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Desires and Fantasies
THE FIRST MEETING


It's a bright summer day, a day she’d normally love to be out in the Cambridgeshire countryside walking her beloved dog, her companion who’d stick by her through thick and thin and here she is in the car park of a hotel the sun beaming down on her face. She’s filled full of anticipation, fear, excitement, the adrenaline pumping through her body. This is it, she reassures herself, what you’ve yearned for all these years, read about, researched fantasised and masturbated over and it's actually about to happen. Her throat is dry, heart racing, knowing with every step towards the hotel is another step to the biggest betrayal of a 20 year marriage, a good marriage to a great man if only he was wired differently and treated her the wondrous way she wished. With a shake of her head she compartmentalised these thoughts, its her life, her needs, her right. She about to give herself to a man she’s never meet before, no man other than her husband since her wedding has seen her naked, fully exposed and she will take every command this stranger will give her, fulfill every sexual activity given by him and relinquish all control to her ‘Sir’ and be expected to use all of her womanly skills to satisfy this man. She can feel the tingling between her legs as the moisture grows at the perception of the sexual excitement she’s starting to experience. As her stockinged thighs rub against each other and the tapping of her sexy high heels tapping on the asphalt echo in her head. A far cry from the one inch heels she’s accustomed too while delivering her lessons at school. Oh yes so so different, in the classroom she has all the power, now she is about to surrender all of this to a stranger she has never meet before, her heart racing, pounding in her rib cage almost ready to burst out at the realisation this she eternally longed for and deepest of desires is coming to fruition, now she will, at long last be the pupil………



Shhhuuuuuwwwisshhhhhh as the automatic doors at the front of the hotel open and here she finds herself facing the receptionist, forget it she can't know she tells herself. She is wearing a smart dress over the lingerie ‘Sir’ has commanded. Her most elegant lace topped stocking fasten to her sexy Basque, she’s had her fire red hair styled that morning especially to please Sir. She tries hard to suppress all her nagging self doubts about her body, after all he knows how she looks and still wants her. She’ll be fine, she's feeling scared and excited anticipation over brimming at the same time, she’s not experienced the like since she was a little teen aged girl. But back then she had the cheap alcohol to self medicate with, but not this time. Her fingers damp with perspiration, her mind racing, instantly she’s snapped back to reality, “Can I help?” asks the young girl behind the reception desk. “Oh yes, its my first visit here, can you kindly direct me to the bar?”. As she points the way, she glances at her watch she’s running 10 mins late, will Sir be there waiting, will Sir notice she’s late. As she opens the door leading to the Bar she spots Sir immediately, their eyes meet, Sirs looking straight into her eyes, those sky blue eyes of his and greets her with a warming smile. Sir looks so handsome when he smiles, she feels a lifting in her heart he’s here. As she walks towards Sir holding his gaze, working her body with every step she takes, heart racing, her stomach in knots full of butterflies she’s warmed by the look of admiration and appreciation on his face as he drops his eyes down and back over her body. His sky blue eyes back fixed on hers he rests his head on his fist. Sirs suit jacket sleeve falling down his arm. Sir looks so handsome in his suit. Still holding her gaze their eyes are locked as his middle finger from his other hand gentle tapes the face of his gold watch, as his eyebrows raise and the realisation that a deserved punishment will ensue…..



As she approaches the table where Sir is sat and he stands for her approach, Sir is a proper, true and genuine gentleman. She fixes her stare upon Sir he is a giant of a man compared to her petite and tiny stature. He’s a well built man with a solid frame and cuts such a handsome figure in a fine suit. He gestures her to sit in the chair opposite her. As she does they both sit simultaneously, she sees before her a bone china tea service, small china jug containing milk, the full array of the tea making paraphernalia. “Earl grey tea my lady” as he gestures before her, “Do help yourself my dear”. she finds herself totally disarmed at such gentlemanly, respectful, well mannered behaviour, she’s feeling like a treasured lady having forgotten momentarily of her tardiness and the atonement thus owed. As she poured the tea into the cup her heart missed a beat as Sir announced quietly but a deep voice of authority, “ 11 minutes late, we will deal with this later in the room later. As for now enjoy your beverage my dear” nothing like the loving song of her husband of which she is so used to. This is a man of authority, here is a man who is used to being utterly obeyed, of authority and unquestionable command. This sent chills through her body and to her embarrassment as she realised her body was betraying her, her delicate silk panties were moistening and her nipples began to get rock hard and press against the fabric restraining them. OMG she thinks can he notice, does this man know, I’m being reduced to a wanton slut before his very eyes, in a public bar in the middle of the afternoon? How could fear be such a turn on for her, She tried to steady her hand as she decanted the tea from the pot to the cup, desperate not to spill and make a fool of herself and betray her heighten sexual state. Her throat was desert dry, desperate for the quenching of the Earl Grey tea she rapidly decants the milk from it little jug and stirs. As she raises the cup to her lips trying to hold a posture and external demeanour of a lady her eyes once again find themselves locked into his. Such blue eyes, beautiful pale blues, giving no clue as to what expectations, what intent lies behind them. As the hot tea quenches her parched throat and still holding his glaze she attempts to collect her thoughts and regain her internal composure. “nice tea?” Sir inquires, with that dreamy warming smile radiating across his face. “oh…er..why yes thank-you” she feels so foolish like a little girl standing before a headmaster having been caught out and about to be punished, pull yourself together woman she thinks, “yes delightful Sir”. He beams another smile across at her, holding himself with such majesty. He extends his hand lightly touching her hand that is not holding the bone china cup. “Relax sweetheart, we are just two adults meeting over a drink in a public place, for here and now you may call me Martyn”, “just take a breath and relax, OK?”. “We are here to chat and for me to show you we have trust and I’m worthy of your trust, then maybe, maybe not we will proceed TO THE ROOM, who knows?” as he shrugs his shoulders with a wily smile on his face. Her heart leaps and misses a beat, not going to the room. How can he even think such a thing, let alone verbalise it!! How dare he, for months Sirs been writing to her messaging her, slowly and surely dismantling all her safe guards and defensive shields and now here weare finally meeting ,for the first time to fulfill her life long held fantasy all ready to go and he’s happy to send me back home!!! how dare he!!! “Oh OK” her crestfallen feeling is obviously plainly expressed upon her face. An inquisitive expression crosses Sirs handsome face and again gently touches her hand this time with reassuring tenderness, “I only said maybe!” his voice calm, controlling and with a reassuring warmth in, “come on silly, how was your morning?” Silly!, silly!! how dare he as she begins to feel the personal hurt of her scorpion need to hurt back build deep in her core. As her eyes raise to glare back at him she is again utterly disarmed by this handsome stranger's smile and soothing words. “so your day beautiful, hows it been?”. She shifts her thoughts back to the last 24hrs, the anticipation and excitement building since confirming their date. The soothing soak in the bubble bath, carefully shaving all her body hair from her neck down on her petite sexy meagre 5 ft frame as per Sir’s instructions. She recalls the light headed giddiness and elation at admiring herself in the full length bedroom mirror while dressing in her new black sexy corset she had purchased especially to meet Sir, her new high denier stocking with such beautiful lace tops her new silk panties. She loved her look topped off with sexy ankle boots, a remnant fashion accessory from her punk rock days of old. She was impressed at the sexy, ladylike but still sluttish look she radiated. Surely Sir will love it the black silky fabric look against her pale complexion of her porcelain skin and how it contrasts to her fiery orange hair, her pussy lips shawn smooth and open for Sir's tongue at his leisure and for his pleasure. She is determined to be the best submissive sir has ever had, owned and pleasured. She remembers lamenting the betrayal of her beloved life partner her best friend, but this is her time, her need her life and for all that life holding that secret yearning and desire to be taken in hand, shown boundaries to beyond control to shed that power and control, her being no more than a sentient toy, someone else's. pleasure meat. She craved the pain of discipline, the true emotional release of her burning red buttocks with the combination of her delicate sweet honey pot being ravished for the sole pleasure of a strong relentless man. She recalls the restless sleepless night tossing and turning in anticipation of the following days sexual roller coaster, being unable to finger her little fairy as per Sir’s instructions. In the morning with hands shaking with nerves, was she really going to go through with this? Is this actually happening at long last? She fumbled putting her face on, 3 attempts to get it right, look at the time she’s running late, would Sir be there, would he leave before he arrived. The rushed journey to make up the time, the journey was a blur to catch up time and here she was at last, the moment of truth, no going back. Here before her, a handsome giant of a man willing to take her up to ‘THE ROOM’ to use, abuse, submit and be beaten by. As she politely replied “it was OK Martyn”. he scoffs and smiles at her simultaneously and casually remarks “here’s me believing that you had a masters degree in English the language of expression, I do hope your bedroom abilities are a marked improvement on your command of the English Language.” How dare he insult my use of my precious English language, and doubt my womanly abilities, she raged inside, she would show him, show him what a real woman does, what a yogi can give…….

They sat for some time chatting, she realised what a truly remarkable man sir is, intelligent, caring, socially aware. She found herself completely relaxed and at ease with this handsome giant of a man. They discussed shared interests, punk music from back in the day to contemporary political punk, social justice, personal history's and their shared struggles with multiple addictions. Which we intermediately peppered with some awful silly jokes, told with timing and skill never letting her know for sure if sir was being serious or not. She found herself finding this combination heightened her attraction to this handsome stranger. Sirs extremely confident, calm and authoritarian manner this was a man whom expected and got his way, her womanly intuition screamed with certainty this man has a dark past, he's looked upon the eyes of deep, dark despair yet not a scar on his handsome face. No external indications at all of what her internal senses are howling at her, yet he’s so charming, well spoken and respectful, the man is an enigma. All of these marinade of emotions bubbling away in her internal cauldron, the excitement, the anticipation, the warm, the respect and the fear she felt for this man, where delivering an emotional roller-coaster in the pity of her stomach and delivering heighten sexual erroneous arousal in the now burning loins. She realised her delicate new panties were more than moist as she discreetly shuffles her lily white globes in her chair, blushing slightly as the self realisation of her body betrayal sinks in, fleeting glancing up willing sir not to have noticed. No such luck as her eyes fixed to greet his stare. “you OK over there?” before she has a moment to collect her thoughts let alone reply he states, “its time”…….

“Time?” her heart skips, a lump instantly locks in her throat as she the realisation of it’s arid dryness hits home. That look of a rabbit caught in the headlights is as plain as day across her face, “Yes my dear do you wish to flight or continue to the room”, “The room …yyyes the room definitely” as she regains her fragile composure, while feeling the burning of her blushing cheeks at sounding so wanton. “Most excellent, in that case this is how things will unfold henceforth, until I tell you otherwise you will address me as Sir, you will only speak when spoken too or if someone else asks a question of you only reply with my direct consent”, gone has the charming man of only moments ago, no change in tone or pitch in his deep voice more of a cold collective matter of fact and utter authoritative command rang in her ears, this is it at last, what she’d wanted, yearned, fantasied and the very thought igniting so so many of her hardest orgasms for all of her days. Sir straightens his spine takes in a breath and looks coldly in her eyes, he seems even larger a man than before if that were possible, the stare into her eyes no longer has the warmth and reassurance of before, she cant visibly perceive any different difference but her internal womanhood knows this is a different Beast before her. This is a real man, this is the highest echelon of alpha males she has perceived in her lifetime. The frozen fear she feels is just exploding in her loins. The realisation she has been deprived of, making do with adequate males, kind loving decent men, where here for the first time is her Bull. She feels like a fragile little girl in a red dress alone in the middle of a random field looking down a one and a half tonne beast with the smoking panting breath snorting from his nostril. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide and no one to rescue her. Her silk panties are soaked as her crouch starts to burn with wanton desire. All nerves are gone, she wants him now, here and now. Bent over the table in the bar and fucked mercilessly. The whole of her womanly essences, her soul suddenly realising this is her, she is a SUB, born and bread, she was made for submission, totally and completely, a lifetime of experience and now she knows it for certain, she has found at last her sexual Rosetta stone……

‘Click’ Sir withdraws his fingers from in front of her face, startled as she feels the rush of the breeze on her face and the deafening click rings in her ears. “if your not going to pay attention i'll send you back to sleepy suburbs, or green belt bull shit from where you came!” “Oh no SSssir , I..I…I.. mean yes Sir I’m paying attention Sir….I AM SIR HONEST!” . suddenly sick to the pit of her stomach, and light headed in the realisation she has finally discovered whom she is, what she wants, what she needs, the missing piece in her existence that she’s been unwittingly seeking from the earliest memory she holds with this enigma of such a handsome man and he’s stating she’ll be sent back to an existence of endless middle class mediocrity, white picket fences semi detached housing with glass conservators….. NNNNNOOOOOoooooooooooooo!!!!!!!! he’s a cruel, self righteous prick how dare he, how dar…. She looks up at his now glaring blue eyes, piercing stabbing stare ripping through her completely, burning away all of her womanly resistance. Sir glances down and her eyes follow his as if caught in an irresistible hypnotic trance of complete submission. Sir has a small leather bound notepad open on the table before him, she can just make out the scribblings. First line written 11, second reads SOFT as he inscribes the third NPA. SOFT that can’t be bad she thinks as she automatically looks up to enquire as per their meanings. Sir is already steps ahead of her as she raises her head and opens her mouth to speak and before a sound she could make she was meet with an angry, devilish glare stabbing deep into her. She froze seeing Sir has his finger to his lips indicating to be silent. How can Sir read her thoughts with such clarity as if he has a direct telepathic ability to know her thoughts before she even has time to think them. Recalling she is forbidden from speech until spoken to and giving permission by Sir, the reality of her invisible gag on her expression begins to perminate into her cognitive reality. These are new double edged emotions to her, the frustration she feels at being held in silence alone with the sexual arousal and stimulation she experiences simultaneously, with the resulting puddle in her now soaked gusset of her panties. The fear Sir will smell her, her musty orgasmic scent of womanhood. She exhales hard,with substantial breath down towards her burning lustful loins, her now soaked panties are beyond a comfort level in a desperate attempt to disperse any possibility of Sir detecting her musty aroma which is emanating from her wanton body betrayal. Looking back up into Sirs eyes, those beautiful blue pools, “You do NOT speak until spoken too, DO you understand?” and with that Sir quickly flicks his wrist so his hand is palm up, fingers pointing towards her in indication that she is expected to reply. “Yes Sir” the instant she hears herself say Sir he has quickly spun in hand over and in a miniature ‘karate chop’ type action through the air, cutting any further verbal response short. The erotic humiliation as she realised she was being trained like a little puppy dog and Sir had taken control over her on a none verbal level, as if she was a pittance, a waste of words. This felt sickeningly belittling and SUCH a huge turn on. She was becoming Sirs puppet without strings…

“Now listen and listen carefully, and mark my words well woman” Sir’s authoritarian voice chilling rang through her head, her eyes opened wide knowing failure to comply would have serious, yet still unknown consequences. Her eyes quickly divert to the still open notebook before them. Sir glancing at his list snorts to himself and draws a line through the middle line that read SOFT and rewrites by it SOOT. What is SOOT? She liked SOFT, SOFT sounded good, SOFT seemed reasonable, even OK. What had she done wrong to get SOFT crossed off, she’d obeyed Sir’s commands, his wishes why cross out SOFT!!! Sir picks up his notebook and silver metal pen and returns them to the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. Their eyes meet again as sir states “you find out in good time woman” with a rye look of impending pleasure lighting his face, she knows this will not be a pain free experience for her as fear and frustration grips once again. “Where were we, Oh yes, a simple nod/shake of your head will suffice as a response to my inquiries, understood?” with the now familiar flick of his wrist leaving his palm out indicating a response is demanded. She nods and with that, there‘s a further flick with the karate chop meaning cease. This arrogant, pompous pig he’s playing with me, I’m a grown woman, a woman who’s respected and treated with dignity and revered and here’s this stranger she has only meet under an hour ago banning her from speech and restricting her communication to a couple of meger head movements like some performing dog!!! A ‘PERFORMING DOG’ she muzed knowing full well this description aptly fits is the role Sir is excepting her to play, his sentiant sexual fuck meat, no rights, no recourse for self pleasure, only to preform to what ever Sirs twisted sexual desires entail. As she takes a deep breath her inner sexual self feels like it's about to explode.

“Have you completed all the tasks I set you and brought all the items I instructed?” he again flicks his wrist to give his permission to reply, she nods observing the sadist power pleasure he enjoys watching her humiliation as her slowly works through each task he had set with opportunity

to allow her to nod and then ordering her to cease…

“Body hair completely shaved smooth from neck down?” she nods,

“Cunt hair shaved immaculately?” she nods trying to hold her blushes as such a crude reference verbalised out loud in a public place about her most intimate of personal places. Her body has yet again betrayed her there is no hiding her now burning blushes, Sir has spotted this and smiles, with his seemingly telepathic ability he smiles smugly while he looks across the hotel bar spotting a young waitress walking into the room. He raises his hand, catching her eye casually beckons her over. “you will verbally repeat that last statement to me immediately I have given permission for you to speak” what!! she thinks I NEVER use the ‘C’ word, then as the young waitress approaches the reality of the situation dawns sickening upon her. Sirs staring menacing in her eyes, she knows he knows her boundaries are beginning to be pushed. The normal pro-parity, the dignity and self respect she holds herself in are to be crushed. The waitress is but a pace away already removing her order pad from her front pocket of her work pinafore. Sir turns his head and looks up to greet her and at that instant Sir flicks his wrist demanding her verbal reply. “my cunt hair is shaven immaculately” a momentary pause ensues that seems like an hour as her words heap shame and humiliation upon her. “a pot of Earl Grey tea for one please Molly and another large Napoleon brandy for myself”. she wants the ground to swallow her up, yearning to be anywhere else but here under the shames stare of disgust of this young girl. She is about the same age as those she had be-lovingly taught her precious English language too and here she is like some potty mouth dirty slut from a council estate announcing the current state of her most personal place, the shame sickening shame and humiliation. Unable to speak, offer any excuse, apology or verbal explanation. All she can do is sit frozen in shame in the full disgusted glare of Molly as she quickly packs away the old tea service. She feels the blaze of hatred burning inside of her yet her body betrayal is intense, her head, her dignity, her conscious reasoning are screaming get up and walk on this wanker. Yet her nipples now erect like rocks in the cups of her corset, the river following in her the gusset of her panties, the burning of her cunt lips and the wanton lust firing from deep in the pit of her stomach cry stay. She is Sir’s string-less pet puppet, his sentient sex slave, she knows she’s going to see this through, her whole life has lead her here, to now, this is that itch for her whole existence she was unable to scratch and now she was going to have it scratched raw. In this knowledge and certainty in her soul she diverts her eyes submissively down to knowing she will compliantly endure any and all further humiliation Sir heaps upon to claim her prize, her time ‘In The ROOM’.

Sharply she raises her head to look at Sir as he speaks “So did you dress as instructed” with the now all too familiar flick of his wrist commanding her none verbal response, she nods. “Did you select a song and practice your best witchy womanly ways to showcase to Sir?”, a thick lump in her throat made it momentarily hard to breath as she remembers back to having gone through her old vinyl collection, her CD’s and all her MP3 tracks to select the perfect tune. She’d researched on line music videos as well as videos of strippers, lap dancers alike looking for inspirational moves to showcase her semi naked body in a truly explosive seductive display of female erotica to capture and own Sirs sexual arousement. She knows this is her one opportunity of independent input to impress Sir before she is to be fully inspected, stripped bare, restrained, buttocks repeatedly beaten and her holes ravished souley for Sir’s sexual gratification. Her opportunity to show she is worthy to be Sir’s Cum Queen. Cheeks a blaze with humiliation Sir has paused momentarily to allow her to reflect on his question his Jedi insight into her is deeply unsettling, emotionally belittling, humiliating as she knows in this place he has complete power over body and mind. He head racing as she recalls the hours of practice gyrating, flaunting and erotically exposing her semi naked body in a display of sexual promiscuity to the full length bedroom mirror, the secret shared with that reflected piece glass, had she been a religious woman she would surely spontaneously combust upon entering the house of the lord. But now she had a new Lord, Sir was her Lord and her body was her offering to her deity. With a flick of Sirs wrist she nods, tears of shame and impending humiliation well in her eyes. She feels Sirs gently brush hers, a touch of tender humanity, reassurance with a silence stare into those blue eyes, a connection made so strong and deep her fear subsides, washed away in the sea of blue that are Sir’s eyes…..

Molly returns decanting the full complement of the tea service from her silver tray before her then carefully placing Sirs large brandy glass before him onto a fresh lilly white frilly doily from the tray. “Thank you Molly” Sir retorts, “do take a £20 gratuity and charge to the room” “Thank you Sir'' replies the girl, “Martyn, please Molly” “Can you arrange to have a bucket of ice, 2 bottles of still water and a large brandy delivered to my room” scribbling this hastily onto her order pad she shots one final look of disgust at her before she retreats to the bar. Yes run bitch run, she muses and that’s Martyn to you he’s ‘MY SIR’ my body is his place of sexual gratification. You’ll be working down here at minimum wage like a judgemental little Bitch while I’m upstairs, with MY Sir gifting MY body to My Lord as his temple to pleasure himself, reaching sexual elations you’ll never know, back off bitch!!

“Have you brought a downloaded copy of your selected track?” upon the flick of Sirs wrist she nods. “Bluetooth Speaker?” she nods, “Your personal sexy toys that I selected?”, she nods.”make up I specified?” she nods “Excellent” her heart races as she receives this praise from Sir, her Sir whom she will shortly open her body, laying out spread eagled and bound to pay full homage to her lord, for whatever fulfilment Sir desires. Sir lifts his giant brandy glass, his hand cupping the bowl slowly swirling the liquid within raising to his nose and inhaling its aroma. Soon Sir will be savouring her female sweet musty aroma she hopes as her cunt tingles as an auto reflex at that thought. “well once you have finished your beverage we will retire to the room”. At last her prize but the time it takes to drink a cup of tea away, her hands are slightly trembling as she pours her Earl Grey tea into her cup, her preferred drink that she’d savour under usual circumstances, these are no usual circumstances. Every sense in her wanton womanhood just wishing to gulp this boiling liquid down her throat without care of the consequences and personal pain that will ensue, after all pain is the penance she is about to pay. Desperately trying to maintain some outward appearance of dignity and self control, knowing Sir is relishing at her current state of emotional flux, her internal torment, the ignition of her deepest darkest and as yet unfulfilled depraved sexual fantasies.

Raising the delicate china cup to her parch lips dry with anticipation she can't help but gaze at Sir this giant of a handsome man and wonder what uses, abuses sir has planned to unleash on her petite 5 ft frame. As she admires her abuser he captures her eye as he glances at his gold wrist watch taps it lightly with 2 fingers then signs with the same hand as if holding an empty cup it's time to drink up. He knows how scolding hot that steaming tea is and without time for addition of cooling milk she gulps the steaming liquid down. The burning of her throat down towards her internal burning loins. “let's retire upstairs and get you properly warmed up” he states as he stands waiting for her to rise and directs her back in the direction of the reception. On leaving the bar they turn to the left and before her are two evaluators, Sir presses the call button as the green arrow ignites pointing up. The butterflies in her stomach feel like they are po-going with mates as if in a mosh pit in front of the pistols. With a chime the doors to one of the elevators opens as 3 men dressed in business suits egress. She grips the handles of her bag now running wet and slippery from the palms of her hands, Sir indicates her to enter first then positions himself directly behind her. Her reaches over presses the number 14 button and the doors close. They are alone, alone at last, encased in this small room, Sir places his hand on her shoulders positioning her to a third in from the back and a third away from the side wall. She glances at their reflection side on in the mirror and fully comprehends the huge size difference between his big set 6’4” build and her petite 5” frame. The man is a monstrous size as he leans down from behind her, she feels the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck as her gently strokes the hair from her left ear and whispers “legs apart, 3 feet now”, his voice so commanding obedience was mandatory. Heart racing, stomach in knots and light headed with a mixture of humiliation and joyous excitement. “Don’t you dare move or make a sound” he whispers as he gently kisses the nap of here neck, sending shock waves through her body. With horror she feels the back of the skirt of her business suit being pull up, she glances down at her now parted Shetlands and sees from her front it can't be noticed. The cold air sends shivers of excitement as it rushes round her exposed flesh of her thighs. Electric shock like sexual stimulus shot across her milky thighs as Sirs fingers slowly trace his way towards her soaking gusset. As sir traces his fingers slowly skill fully up her inner thighs she aches to turn around and passionately kiss her Sir, her man to whom she is to give herself to. But this is one his terms, his control, his demands. She stays frozen as commanded, legs apart as this perfect handsome stranger tickles and teases her already erupting sexuality almost past the point of explosive fireworks. See glances at the buttons on the wall, 3 is lit so so many floors to go to have her prize, her pain and orgasmic pleasure, her bespoke Nirvana. She yearned to be upstairs ‘In the ROOM’, how long is this elevator ride going to run. Startled back to her presence as Sir’s fingers evaded the touch her womanhood yearned for as his fingers traced gently around her porcelain globes evading her now gushing gusset and slowly reached to the elastic of new now soaked silk panties. As she glances to her left, not daring to move she sees Sir slide down behind her while expertly clipping his thumbs under the elastic of her panties and in one swift movement as he raises himself up pulls the panties down to a third down her thighs. Just below her stocking tops the rush of air on her freshly shaved pussy igniting her loins fully as the doors to their private pleasure cage open to the mortal horror she feels rushing through her essence. Desperately she flicks her eyes to the buttons of the elevator the number 8 beaming into her eyes as a well dressed couple enter their lift. Sir holding her both arms pulls her towards him smiling at the couple “Do give them some room my dear” as he beams a smile at them entering the lift. As the couple turn their backs to them and face the doors she realises with mortal horror that Sir is tucking the hem of her skirt into the waistband exposing her porcelain milky buttocks in full view of the mirror behind them. She takes a sharp intake of breath at the shock of Sir cupping each of her buttocks gently in each of his big firm hands as they tease and caress them sensually. His thumbs invade the crack of her buttocks slowly pulling them apart, the pain of fear, humiliation and burning desire in her crotch, the fear that the couple may smell the pungent aroma of female lust from the juices flowing from her wanton womanhood. The thought of them turning their heads and observing her body being invaded by Sir that’s clearly visible in their mirrored cage. As she glances her reflection from the corner of her eyes she drops her gaze down in shame wishing her facial cheeks were not burning red as are her lions. Sir leans forwards and whispers “Head up, eyes forward” as he lightly traces the tips of his fore fingers along the now soaking lips of her pussy resulting in shock-waves of desire ripping through her. Desires for Sir to dig his digits deep into her gushing gash, pull her wide open to satisfy the sexually lust violently pumping through her veins. Swallowing her need to holier as he skillfully traces his middle finger firmly along the inside wall of her velvet dripping wall of her intimate womanhood collecting her juices in the palm of his hand and smearing it deep in the crevice of her arse. With horrifying humiliation Sir held his middle finger firmly against her rosebud, that place she had only ever surrendered to her beloved husband of 20 years, not that it was his preferred hole of hers, routinely ignored during their sexual dalliances. Here’s this strangler and within an hour of meeting has forbidden her from verbal communication and movement , has her in a lift with two utter strangers and unknown to them has her sexually soaked panties around her thighs. Her dress hooked up exposing her buttocks, her pussy pulsing with erotic lust, dripping her juices which he’s semi lubricated her most private of places and forcing his middle digit deep into her and all she can do is long to get to the room and allow him to punish her and preform any twist sexual desire on her that pleases him. What has happened to her why is this the most sexually erotic experience in her life she muses. She is a true natural SUBMISSIVE…. will she be equally embracing of the torment of pain, will she be as natural Sirs PAIN SLUT…….