Regime

This time Aruna's poker face did crack. She looked at Katherine in disbelief and then at me. Something in my own shocked expression must have betrayed me because she quickly recovered her composure and asked.

"He would do that?"

"He will do whatever I tell him to do"

Aruna looked at me again with lust slightly colouring her features but there was also a measure of disdain that I would allow myself to be used in this way. What made things worse was that I did not immediately raise an objection which gave a frightening insight into how conditioned I had become in so short a time.

I rose from the table to assert myself but Katherine ignored me completely.

"You can use the bedroom, or I'll leave you in here, in any event you only get to use his mouth."

I was being treated as commodity, and by any measure it was totally demeaning, so why was I suffering the ache of a frustrated erection? I kidded myself that it was the prospect of intimacy with Aruna but I knew it was a lie. All of my desire and arousal was focused on Katherine and it only seemed to increase the further she ground me down.

I could see that Aruna was weighing up the bizarreness of the situation. Looking for a hidden agenda, but, at the finish, she gave in to her own carnal appetite.

"In here will do. You can watch if you want."

I do not know if she was trying to shock Katherine in turn or to simply express that she had no use for anything other than my mouth and was happy for Katherine to bear witness. I leaned towards the latter when she spoke again.

"Do you mind? I don't want to crease my clothes."

Without waiting for an answer she began to undress and carefully folded her clothes across the back of the chair. I stared in disbelief but I got the sense that my attention was taken for granted and it was Katherine's approval that was being sought.

As Katherine appraised her she had that same transported look that she evinced when we visited galleries together and a painting particularly appealed to her. I felt a pang of jealousy but, for some reason, I sensed that the connection was purely aesthetic.

At around five nine Aruna was quite tall with a honeyed complexion and an hour glass figure common to Indian women but there was no spare weight on her frame. My eyes were drawn to her plump breasts with nipples so dark as to seem almost black. They were perfect circles with teats that stood rigidly to attention.

Her long legs were well toned, as I could testify from seeing her in the gym from time to time, but I was surprised to see that she was not depilated. The neatly maintained growth was as black as the silky curtain of hair that hung almost to the small of her back.

My general impression of Indian woman was one of quiet timidity which made Aruna's display of forthright self-confidence all the more unnerving.

She walked to the sofa and selected a cushion which she dropped in the middle of the floor.

"I hope you don't mind. I want to look right into his eyes whilst he's doing it."

Katherine nodded both her approval and her amusement and I wondered if women possessed of this dominant streak engaged in some form of secret telepathy. I tried to be coldly analytical but I found that my fighting instinct was crushed beneath the weight of their self assurance.

I told myself that it would be a couple of days more at most but I was being enfolded in a mental shroud that imprisoned me just as surely as my manhood was held captive. As I waivered I looked towards Katherine but she simply flicked her eyes towards the floor and her unspoken instruction was perfectly clear.

It felt like an out of body experience as I lay down on the floor and Aruna moved around me. The sway of her of her hips assumed a natural arrogance as she straddled my prone body and allowed me a few seconds to stare up at the obsidian delta to which I was required to attend.

She began a perfectly controlled descent her knees bending to slip over my shoulders but then paused just inches above my face. Looking down at me she rasped a finger through the covering of her mound to reveal her distinct labia.

They were heavy dark folds hinting at an inner tinge of pink which in turn drew out the deep red undertone of her hair colouring and they seemed imbued with the same exoticism that made her such a desirable prize for television producers.

She relaxed altogether, closing me in, but as she did so she writhed very gently so that her lips spread wetly over my mouth and nose. I do not know exactly what I was expecting but her rich scent and a first fleeting taste was all too familiar.

From where I lay her breasts looked even more weighty but my eyes were drawn to hers as, true to her word, she witnessed the full extent of my submission.

To begin with she was content to allow me to lick as best I could but as minutes past she began to rock on my face demanding a deeper penetration.

Once I had slid my tongue inside her she closed her thighs, sealing me in altogether, and the darker tone of her skin seemed to steal the light away. I quickly became uncomfortably hot and her weight made breathing normally a trial but she had no other thought than her own ascent. She began to bear down less gently as she sought the friction that she needed.

There was an exchange between them that I could not make out but then Aruna gave an approving groan that reverberated through her body. She threw back her head and her hair lay heavy upon my chest as she began to flood.

I could feel runnels of moisture tracing their paths across my cheeks but these were smeared to a lubricating film as she worked her hips and began to ride my face in earnest.

She did not pause as she reached a climax. Instead, she worked herself into a frenzy like a possessed belly dancer until, totally drained, she came to a juddering halt.

She sat full weight, breathing hard, as she tried to recover herself whilst I lay crushed in a wet, suffocating, fug.

As she reluctantly bestirred herself I gasped some fresh air. She stood astride me and raised her arms as she stretched languidly but then she deftly turned herself about and, before I could react, she lowered herself once more.

She splayed her curvaceous backside over my face almost cutting off my breathing altogether and, impossible as it was, she seemed even heavier now she had adopted this position.

It took an age for her to ride out a second, more leisurely, climax. Each time I thought she was close she would make small talk with Katherine, as if this was perfectly natural, and, having recovered a little, she would begin again.

I tried to help things along with my tongue but I was growing weary and I was desperate for a drink. Every time I swallowed I filled my mouth with the rich taste of her and her sex seemed like a boundless reservoir.

She was so drained at the finish that Katherine gave her a hand to help her to her feet. She did not even look back at me as she took up the offer of a shower but as I started to rise myself Katherine spoke tersely.

"Stay exactly where you are. You're not finished yet."

Chapter Nine

The next few days passed by in a blur. Katherine was no less demanding of me but I found myself in denial. I convinced myself that my life would begin again once the bill passed and I looked forward to my American trip in order to affirm the fresh start.

The trouble was that I spent almost the whole time in a frustrated state of arousal. Logically, this should have eased when I was made to serve but the more demeaning Katherine was the more aroused I became.

I found myself torn between a need to set myself free of her and an ever growing dependency which was seemed to be frighteningly beyond my control.

Fortunately my time and attention was being taken up by a whirlwind round of media appearances designed to promote the bill in the interests of the wider economy whilst convincing the public that the country remained militarily secure.

I was grateful when, at long last, the bill came before the house. It was debated at length and, as expected, there was some vehement opposition from all sides but when Aruna stood up to speak in favour I knew that we would be guaranteed a sufficient margin of victory to give us the vitally important moral high ground.

Following the inevitable outcome I was subject to much back slapping and general congratulations and the Prime Minister himself sought me out to thank me for all my efforts. I was still riding the wave of euphoria when Jennifer caught up with me in the members lobby and asked if I would come along to her office.

For the first time in my parliamentary life she asked me to join her on the visitor sofas and she poured two generous measures of single malt into crystal glasses.

"I'll come straight to the point. The PM is impressed and your name is being mentioned in terms of a summer reshuffle. He has gone so far as to ask my personal opinion of you."

My heart leapt at the revelation but the mention of a 'personal opinion' was troubling. Jennifer was at university with the PM and was part of the inner cadre that had done so much to reshape the party of late. The press had even gone so far as to mischievously suggest that there had been a dalliance at some stage. I was in no doubt that if she was in any way disparaging it would not go well for me.

"As you already know, apart from a select few, I have a fairly low opinion of men, you included. You do, however, have one distinct advantage. You have Katherine behind you and with the help of her perceptiveness and motivation you might be a force to be reckoned with."

If she was trying to flatter me it came out sounding more like a veiled insult. I was tempted to say something but elected to keep shtum allowing her to continue.

"I was impressed with the way that you handled the situation with Banerjee but then Katherine tells me that you have some unique powers of persuasion. "

Her eyes held mine and all else was unsaid. I could see that she knew everything and I, in turn, now knew the price I would have to pay for her support. Even now some instinct, some last vestige of pride, was compelling me to turn on my heel but my mind was fogged.

I was looking at Jennifer as I had never looked at her before and it said everything that I was imagining her as she would appear from my knees.

She smiled as she recognized my acquiescence and she slowly rose to her feet. She was unhurried as she carefully removed her clothes and set them to one side. Facially, she was undoubtedly attractive but she had the body of a woman who enjoyed a sedentary lifestyle.

Once upon a time she would have turned heads but now extra pounds made her curves more rounded. She had an earth mother chest and the weight of her breasts appeared to have distended her nipples so that they were oval shaped.

She obviously tried hard with her diet but her belly had a definite swell and her thighs were less well proportioned than her shapely calves.

For all that she had near perfect skin and she held herself with the assurance of someone who believed that she was the embodiment of how a woman should truly look. That self-confidence radiated from her in much the same way as it did in her professional role and it was equally intimidating.

With no hint of embarrassment she retook her seat on the sofa and parted her legs.

"You might want to take off your tie...this may take a while."

I felt disembodied as I did as she suggested but then she was taken by a fresh whim.

"Does it hurt?"

There was no doubt about what she was referring to as she nodded towards my groin but I was not sure if she was asking in a general sense or simply trying to see what effect her nakedness had upon me.

"Take you clothes off. I want to see."

I was prepared to go to my knees, to humble myself between her thighs. Why then did I find it so difficult to bring myself to undress in front of her? I felt a tremor in my hands as I did as she asked fully aware of her lascivious gaze.

As soon as I was naked she dropped her hand to her groin and ran her fingertips through the perfectly trimmed arrowhead of hair that pointed the way down to her sex.

I have a sense of my own standing in terms of sex appeal, and I have always chosen partners to match, but there was something about this woman that spoke to some primal instinct. My eyes followed the implicit promise of her moving hand and the immediate distress made me gasp.

She smiled, happy with the results of her teasing, and opened her legs just a little wider.

"Persuade me..."

I stared at her sex which lay exposed like a wild orchid. Her arrogant labia bloomed, suggestive of an inviting sweetness, and there was the faintest hint of arousal in the air.

I knelt at the altar with due reverence, to be enclosed by her thighs, absently noting the delicate tracery of stretch marks and a matched pair of tiny beauty spots. Closer still and her dark delta could be seen to be shot through with the odd fleck of silver evoking the feeling that she was a woman of long experience.

It could only have been an associated trick of the mind that leant her natural scent a more mature quality filling my nose like the bouquet of a finest wine.

I breathed deeply as I applied my tongue to find that the taste was that familiar sour sweet blend of a woman in heat regardless of her age.

She relaxed deeply into the sofa, closed her eyes, and gave me free rein. I recalled another world where my sole aim would have been to bring things to a close as soon as possible but this was a new reality in which I was to endeavour to coax her to the highest peak and hold her there for as long as she could bear.

I spent an age ministering to her succulent lips, my success measured and rewarded by a slow steady leakage, before I allowed myself a deeper exploration, Here I found the creamy source of her arousal and I sealed my mouth to her as I accepted her libation.

We remained enjoined and I was like a young lover discovering the joys of that first never-ending kiss as my tongue worked as eagerly as any fascinated teenager.

The aches of my knees, my neck and my tortured groin merged into a dulled background as her body began to stretch inviting me on to her clitoris. It felt tenderly engorged but as the minutes passed it began to throb beneath my tongue.

She writhed and groaned and I knew that the end was in sight. She touched my head for the first time, drawing me down a little, and I embedded my tongue as deeply as possible. Then, as she started to come, the well spring erupted flooding my mouth. It was a struggle not to disengage but I held fast as she wetly found release.

When the crisis was past I sucked gently until she had recovered and then she had me lick the excess from her skin. I felt completely drained, and dared hope that she felt likewise, but she was a fully charged sexual woman and so her next words held little surpirise.

"Lie down. I want to ride your face..."

Chapter Ten

I was accompanied by two aides on my trip to New York. Neither of them had visited the city before and so when I suggested that I could handle the UN conference speech by myself they were more than happy to absent themselves.

The conference was dull but it opened my eyes to the fact that my name was becoming known in the wider international community. Fortunately, I was able to give my brief address in the morning and I skipped out mid way through the first afternoon session.

Back at my hotel I began to ring round some of the better known tattoo studios in the hope that I might get a lead on someone who could help with my predicament. After just three calls I was convinced that I was going about things the wrong way. The first two laughed out loud and the third at least had the good grace to cover the mouthpiece before being overcome by a fit of the giggles.

Changing tack, I put in a call to a more dubious establishment which majored on body piercings rather than ink. The advert highlighted genital piercings in particular which gave me hope.

The proprietor sounded elderly but he, at least, was sympathetic. He told me that he could not help but he thought he knew someone who might. He called me back within ten minutes and gave me, of all things, the name of a furniture restorer on the Lower East Side.

As I took a taxi from the hotel I was still feeling dubious and the more so when I saw the shop itself which looked like something lifted from a Dickens novel. Randomly stacked pieces of furniture made an already tight space almost claustrophobic.

I was trying to find something resembling a counter when a voice pulled me up short.

"You must be the guy with the problem."

It had not occurred to me that Sam Oosthaven would turn out to be a female but it was too late for embarrassment as she had clearly already been briefed.

"I'll get the door and give us some privacy."

She was a large woman in every sense and she had to twist and turn through the aisles to lock the front door. I guess that she was in her forties but she had a round, sunny, face that was framed by a halo of thick blonde hair which had a mind of its own.

She was only an inch or two shorter than me but she was wide hipped with an eye catching bosom that moved freely beneath a misshapen sweater.

She led me to the back of the shop to a surprisingly spacious workroom. Pieces of furniture in various states of repair stood around, including two ancient looking safes, but, to one side, was a bench covered with locks, keys and associate paraphernalia.

"I'm a carpenter by trade but I love old locks. All the antiques traders around about come to me if they need something opened or repaired without doing any damage.

I looked at her uneasily.

"You think that you can help me."

Her smile was just the right side of mocking.

"I specialize in combination locks but yours sounds "challenging". Why don't you take off your trousers and put this on."

A moment later I felt more absurd than I had in my whole life. I stood draped in a heavy green cotton coverall with my manhood set out on a wooden block atop the work bench. She tried hard but in the end she had to smirk.

"That is the darndest thing I have ever seen."

I was on the verge of leaving when she held me by the shoulder.

"Keep still. I'd like to give this a try."

She adjusted a bench mounted magnifying glass and spotlight and began to probe the device with a bradawl.

"First off, we're going to need a key."

She sprayed the device with a fine powder and then filled one of the key openings with a drop of melted wax. Seconds later she carefully eased it out and set to work on a key setting lathe.

For so large a woman she was remarkably dextrous and within ten minutes she was finishing off with a fine emery cloth. The next step was to bind the device securely to the block with a webbing belt and then, to my alarm, she attached two tiny electrodes.

"Don't worry honey. There's no current, they're just for listenin' "

She switched on something that looked like an oscilloscope and then she began trying her key. To her credit she looked totally concentrated on the challenge and seemed unmindful of the intimate nature of the job in hand. She watched the screen and, over the next twenty minutes, she pencilled a series of numbers onto a sheet of paper.

Finally she gave a deep sigh and I was terrified that she was going to tell me that she had failed and, worse still, I began to wonder if she might have inadvertently messed up the original settings.

"Does the number 1511 have any significance?"

I thought hard and something lurked at the back of my mind. It took a moment but then I had it.

"The day and month of my wedding anniversary."

This was a particularly evil twist on Katherine's part. She had always told me that she would have my balls ever I forgot our anniversary.