by Ruby Madden
Noting the intensely masculine, shiny, steel collar around his neck, I was mesmerized momentarily. After a brief interlude in my own mind about whether I should be cock-sucking these men ungloved, something within me reassured me that I was able to trust what I’d been told.
I may be new to what I was experiencing, but these were people who played a far more sophisticated game of sexuality than I had even known was possible.
I resumed my cock-worship on the new offering, wondering what the view I now provided was doing for my dominator. I heard him move behind me first and then felt him as he caressed and squeezed my ass, my hips, my waist a bit before he forcefully pushed his way into me. He tweaked and spanked my flesh, while yielding a firm penetrative technique.
“Gaaawwwwd you’re tight… Squeeze that pussy tight for me sweetie…” He grunted, gripping my hips, his fingers digging into my plumpness.
And I did, slowly, squeezing and pulling him in and up. He had pulled my right arm back and behind me, holding me at my elbow and angling his penetration with a sublime leverage I hadn’t experienced before.
I loved it, absolutely loved it…
As we gained a rhythm, I maintained what little control I had left to keep my cock worship semi-worthy of my oral devotion, very much thankful for at least one free hand to use on the muscular man and his thick tool, kneeling in front of me. I enjoyed feeling the fullness of my own flesh being gyrated against, the way his grip and pace become more demanding, more urgent. He was forcefully inside me and it felt amazing.
“Arch those hips northward…” He grunted near my neck and ear, the feel of his breath on my skin ruptured all self-control.
He was deep inside me and hitting the perfect spot in my pussy. It was then that I couldn’t control my sounds or moaning any longer, breaking his request for me to keep my sex noises to myself. My breathing turned to sexy, gargled whimpers and I loved how full I felt, with both of them inside me.
Just as I felt him start to come, I could feel my swollen pussy begin its release of the rich, silky elixir that began to pour out of me. Stimulated just right, I was usually the last to know when I would squirt.
A mere few seconds later my orgasm rippled vigorously through me, my sweet loud cries allowed to sound out as my oral recipient suddenly pulled his very erect cock out of my mouth. I heard my sex cries bouncing off the walls of the elaborately decorated room. Twitching and gyrating, my body with a mind of its own, I deeply felt that exquisite place of extreme pleasure and intense surrender…
He was pleasantly surprised, reaching under me to feel the sexy pearlized liquid now drenching him, the ottoman, and the floor. Half laughing to himself, “Oh my… I wasn’t expecting that...”
Saying the first words that had come out of my mouth and unable to contain myself, I half-whispered, “I’m sorry, so sorry…”
He leaned in, “Never say sorry again…”
His fingers were in me now. He pulled his hand from my pussy and slipped one finger in my mouth, making me taste myself.
“Suck.” He ordered.
I sucked, while he probed me again, gathering more of our shared juices. He was semi-laying on me, partly on the ottoman and seemed entranced. My eyes closed, I alternated sucking from his fingers to the still erect cock of the other penetrator, who remained absolutely silent and willing to whatever whim his Master asked.
“You still need more cock, don’t you?”
I knew it wasn’t a question, not really. Again, I acquiesced my ability to choose and simply remained as I was. Completely sprawled, wet, quivering. Waiting.
And then I was being taken again from behind, the second penetrator using the same forceful pounding. This time, the host settled in front of me, watching my face as I was fucked yet again until another sweet cry and more of my elixir-like juices had been pulled out of me…
Chapter 10
{ An Invitation to an Audition }
The black limo pulled up in front of my modest suburbia home. It was Noon’ish. Morning had come and gone. I was in a sleep deprived and pleasure fulfilled daze.
When the encounter had ended, in a blissful state of mind from being fucked so thoroughly by two men, losing count of how many times I’d climaxed.
I had been blindfolded yet again and led out of the host’s room in the late hours of the morning to another room on the third level of the mansion where I was tenderly and attentively bathed by a female servant in a tub that could easily fit two people.
The servant was very modestly dressed, robed almost entirely in ivory white, her face veiled by a very sheer gauzy cloak. She too had the same lovely caramel coloring of the male servant that had provided my beverages earlier. She seemed especially attentive to my over-pleasured state of mind, guiding my body gently and softly with warm, soft hands that tended to me caressingly. It was as if she was bathing a coo’ing dove…
I languorously gazed out the large floor to ceiling, domed window, watching the sun rise over L.A. as the warm sudsy water was soaped over my body.
I wondered what delights Autumn and Josh would have to share with her later. I was made and fed a wonderful breakfast of my choosing and then offered a ride home via a chauffeured limo by the effeminate impresario who had invited me to the party.
I signed a non-disclosure agreement, which bound me to confidentiality of the events of that day and evening for ten years.
I still didn’t know where I had been. Who had taken and used me, shared me with another and had provided all this pleasure.
The gay impresario seduced me into signing the contract with promises of more sensual, sexual delights and invites.
He sealed the deal by uttering, “My Master has expressed an interest in you, my DEAR. He says he wants you to become one of his willing, submissive and subservient PETS. Does that delight your ears, dear? Because if it doesn’t, it SHOULD…”
I honed in on the lyrical syllables of every word the effeminate gay man sing-songed to me. The way his voice clung languorously to certain words was hypnotizing. He wasn’t lying, he was enticing and inviting me to play. To play with the likes of those I’d never even knew were possible.
This conversation was replaying itself out in my head when I stumbled deliriously into my home. My roommate was watching TV and barely acknowledged me coming into the house.
“There’s a message on the machine for you.” She said flatly, her attention riveted to whatever program she was watching.
I half-registered that she was talking to me, I was in such a pleasure-induced and sleep-deprived daze. I walked over to the machine, my body on auto-pilot and hit ‘play’ to hear the message.
“You have one message,” the machine droned annoyingly in its fake human voice.
“This is a message for Clara Owen. I’m the assistant to the main casting director for Mr. XXXXX. He would like to invite you to audition for a role in his upcoming film next Wed at 2 pm. He said to tell you, ‘the rules are still the same’, whatever that means. Please call me back to confirm you will audition, thanks. 818-244-xxxx.”
I smiled to myself. How had he gotten my name and phone number?
PART TWO
Male fantasies, male fantasies, is everything run by male fantasies? Up on a pedestal or down on your knees, it’s all a male fantasy: that you’re strong enough to take what they dish out, or else too weak to do anything about it. Even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.
~ Margaret Atwood (The Robber Bride)
* * *
Chapter 11
{ Traipsing thru Sir V’s mind… }
Sir V was sitting at his desk in his home office perusing a m
yriad pile of legal contracts for his next production project. He was distracted. His thoughts were elsewhere.
It had been a while since this had happened. This being the ongoing disturbance of his workflow - a curvy, plump, twenty-something woman named Clara who kept lustily coming to mind, one erotic moment after the other.
As she traipsed through his mind, commanding attention of his cock in her own titillating way, he had to laugh silently to himself about the merry-go-round of naughty thoughts percolating through his mind, stimulating him in more ways than one.
This one was in trouble, he was going to have to exercise patience and self-restraint…
Three members from his executive production team were sitting nearby, chatting with one another casually about business, while hyperaware of their employer.
At the moment, they were waiting to follow his lead, but knew him well enough to know that he was in review mode. He’d call them forward when he needed them or wanted to discuss any specific details.
Writing up a contract that financed a hundred million dollar studio project was nothing new for the Hollywood mogul. Over his career, he’d financed billions in movie and production projects. Nearly everything he touched, turned to gold.
He had the magic touch. A true powerhouse and heavyweight in the world of entertainment.
Deep in thought, his mind danced back and forth between the pressing demands of his work and a young plus-sized woman who’d recently enthralled him.
He grumbled beneath his breath, noting a flaw and calling it out. “Jack, section 2.b is referencing the wrong information still. Didn’t we already request that be amended? I asked specifically for a sixty / forty split. Not fifty-five / forty-five.”
Jack stopped his conversation with the other members of Sir V’s team and stepped over to his desk, leaning over to peer at the information on his laptop. “That you did note. I’m sorry sir, I’ll see to it that it’s corrected ASAP.”
“Good, I won’t electronically sign until it is. Get right on it. The bank wants the finance agreement by EOB tomorrow.” Sir V commented, knowing that what he requested wouldn’t get overlooked again.
Unlike some of the high-rollers and risk-takers in Hollywood, he could actually afford to veto a hundred million dollar project. He was simply being gracious in providing the majority percentage so that others on the project could lay claim to a percentage of the potential profits.
The group of men waited on paused breath, watching for that signal that they could proceed with their conversation. Sir V nodded and continued to review the contract. They resumed discussing their latest golfing triumphs on the green.
A distinguished man, Sir V had long ago earned the respect, and on rare occasion, the fear of his peers. A seemingly effortless leader, he was accustomed to most waiting for his next move, his next request, his next decision. It was so commonplace and normal now that he barely noticed how attuned others were to his dynamic, commanding persona.
He’d always been an over-achiever, eager to make his mark in the world. Equally hungry to make his mark in other ways – on his many lovers’ bodies and minds. The challenge he craved from the intense interactions and experiences around him had been waning for some time. Very schooled, well-read and versed on human behaviorism dynamics, he’d long ago accepted and embraced his effortless Alpha male nature.
Sir V had just as voracious an appetite for ‘know thyself’ ideology, self-improvement, and education. He knew many of his faults – his tendencies to obsess, his attention to detail, his mind that ran constantly – even at three A.M. in the morning when he wanted nothing more desperately than some sleep.
Because of his high-octane personality, he’d taken on several mind-body practices to help keep him semi-sane.
His mind gobbled up inspiration from just about every source he could find. Much of his own efforts at having the best human experience he could were kept to himself. He employed a small army of staff with clear guidelines, arrangements and agreements in place to keep everyone moving along – as peacefully and as productively as possible.
He’d learned early on that the dynamics of human sexuality and relating were ridiculously complex but could be simplified to a handful of bare-naked truths to suit his carnal needs, wants, whims and desires.
With age, experience, wisdom – he’d come to understand about himself that a cultivated approach and appreciation was what pleased him most – providing a form of excitement, engagement and stimulation that he needed for his high standards.
His interest in a being a sexual dominator had been a given, right from the get-go. He’d fondly think back on those initial sexual encounters as a teen boy. The first time he’d taken control, the first time he’d made a submissive kneel to worship his cock, the first time he’d simply ‘taken’ what he sexually lusted and hungered for.
He quickly realized that if a woman didn’t overtly express her desire to be submissive to him, on the sexual level – his cock wasn’t interested – at all.
However, too many years of over-eager, all too willing, money-and-status hungry, conniving submissive lovers who were inherently weak like wet noodles, had left his sexual appetite – wanting.
Wanting for what specifically, he wasn’t entirely sure yet… It was a contradiction he sought. A strong woman who would sexually submit to him, not a weak one. A sexual being of her own right, holding her own innate power. He had discovered how rare such a feminine creature was.
He’d yet to meet her…
Until his recent Halloween party, that is.
In his mid-forties, with twenty-five powerhouse years packed behind him as a major player in the world of Hollywood entertainment, he dared not admit to himself that he was frequently bored. Bored with key business alliances and partners, staff, employees and submissive sex-play lovers. Thankfully, he wasn’t yet bored with his studio projects.
He reminisced on watching Clara’s entry at the private Halloween orgy he’d hosted recently. Along with her provocatively simple and enticing Halloween costume, her natural, plus-size, sexy beauty had enraptured him right from the get-go.
Her revealing decision to sit at the one spot in the room that provided the best view of all the orgiastic goings-on’s. Her willingness to go it solo, not immediately scattering to mingle or be absorbed by the crowd. How she had handled the arrival of the two blonde pets he had sent her way, unbeknownst to her.
The manner in which she’d taken charge and control of the dynamic in such a subvert manner, barely revealing her own lust and desire but still achieving a stirring and arousing encounter and pleasurable outcome for the two she’d played with.
He had known that the likeliness of finding a curvaceous woman not easily intimidated by the vexing, stunning, slender beauty of the two blondes was a very rare thing. He’d been more than pleasantly surprised to see that she’d set about to enjoying them – on her own terms, regardless of her own confidence level or the usual self-esteem issues that plagued women with her body-type.
As it turned out, she had a great deal of confidence in herself and a comfort level with her body that was rare and uncommon. Somehow, by some miracle, in a world and society that shamed the beauty and sex appeal of being plus-sized – she accepted herself and didn’t once ever indicate that she felt the need to apologize for her soft padding, curves and extra doughy skin. He loathed how true Goddess-types were made to feel less than what they were.
Instead, it seemed she embraced it. Accepted her sexy femininity and all its hidden power.
He’d been inpatient to summon her to meet and interact with him. It had been a breath of fresh air to observe her first and then experience her carnally, afterwards, for himself. He equally loved the innocent feedback that Bruce had provided, how she had been flummoxed and surprised that he wanted to enjoy her company when initially asked to join him. It was this semi-obliviousness of herself that he was so aroused by. A form of innocence that can’t be faked.
>
A year spent under Sir V’s guidance, Clara would never be oblivious to her effect on others, especially men, again. For now, he wanted the privilege of her devoted company, time, attention and focus.
But he didn’t want to scare her away either.
Most of his sexual play-mates were people who were very much already involved in the kink sex scene and knew what they were getting into. This young woman was barely introduced. He needed to proceed carefully, or he’d be a wolf on her very fast rabbit heels. He already knew she was talented and smart, but he needed to test her willingness to play first. Gauge her maturity level.
This had been why he’d provided Clara an opportunity to take on an unusual task. It hadn’t been that hard to reach out and find out more about her once having made her acquaintance at the orgy. Her agent had simply been about two calls removed from Sir V’s influential circles.
When he was advised that she’d been performing since a young age, worked part-time as an actress outside of her not quite full-time day job, and was very acquainted with and comfortable on studio sets – for audition or otherwise, he’d moved fast. It just so happened that one of his projects had auditions coming up and so, Sir V did what he does best.
He masterminded an opportunity.
His thoughts were going back to the audition – which he’d made himself present for. The casting team had been flummoxed by his out of the ordinary, non-routine and unusual decision to join the casting plans for the day. He’d done his best to stay out of their way and remain hidden away.
He’d had the audition recorded as there was very much an important, final decision being made. They were casting the main female lead and there had been some trepidation in coming to a unanimous agreement.
After the audition with Clara, however – all unanimously agreed that Amy was the right fit for the role. Clara had delivered her first task like a pro. He’d been impressed, yet again. His standards were high.
