Berlin

The bed moved and I felt her straddle my chest and suddenly her wet pussy pushing into my face. "Lick me," she demanded in a husky voice and for the first time in my life, my tongue tasted the intimate juices of a woman.

I was useless or that was what she told me over and over again as I licked and kissed while attempting to breathe at the same time. Finally, through my clumsy efforts and her use of my chin and nose, I heard her moan as she orgasmed.

The bed moved and she was gone from my face, leaving her juices and her perfume on my mouth. Her fingers touched my hard cock and I moaned. "Not yet," she murmured and I felt her tighten something around the base of my cock. The scarf was removed and I saw a thin strap has been fastened around my cock. Caroline spilled packets of condoms on the bed and rolled one over my straining cock, then another and another until my cock was wrapped in several condom layers. I stared down at the foreign object that used to be my cock and opened my mouth. A sharp slap to my cheek and I shut it again as Caroline climbed on top of me, her large breasts threatening to spill from the white lace of her slip. Smiling down on me, she sat over my now plastic embalmed cock and slowly impaled herself on it. A satisfied smile appeared on her face as she slowly began to move but I felt nothing except for vague movements around my numb cock.

She used me wantonly with no thought of my pleasure, using my hard, numb cock over and over until she screamed with abandoned pleasure. We were both covered in sweat when she rose off me, leaving my swollen condom covered cock wet and denied.

Caroline giggled as she removed layer and layer of condom from my cock and finally removed the thin strap and I felt a sharp sting as the blood circulated again. "We can not keep this on too long," she murmured dangling the cock strap in front of me, no more than half an hour," she added and I realised she was instructing me for future use.

She released me and pulled the dark curtains apart so the weak light filtered into the room from the French Doors. A flurry of snow drifted against the glass as Caroline sat on a chair next to the French Doors, smiling at me as I lay on the bed, my hard cock waving from my belly. "Come here," she said, the white slip seeming to glow in the dim room.

Unsteadily, I moved to her and following her gesture, knelt in front of her, her legs teasing me. Her fingers caressed my hair as she whispered in the dark, "You will learn, little boy. You will get better," and my cock throbbed. "Would you like to touch yourself?"

"Yes Madame," I croaked and tenderly seized my cock when she nodded agreement. Slowly, she parted her legs and slid the white silk up her thighs so I was staring directly at her pussy, her pubic hairs wet and matted. "Kiss me while you do it," she said and I leaned forward to bury my face in her pussy as I frantically jerked my cock. It didn't take long and I was soon spurting against her legs and the chair while she giggled softly above me.

I pulled back, my face burning as she tenderly stroked my cheek. "And now?" she asked, an eyebrow raised and I guessed what was expected.

"Thank you Madame," I murmured and she smiled as the wind and the light snow rattled the French Doors.

Part 6: Complicated Game
'They wanted Tom
They wanted Joe
To dress 'em up and stick 'em out on show
They were arrows in a very bad aim
It's just a complicated game
(Complicated Game – Andy partridge XTC )

The weeks rolled by and Caroline extended her control over me with each passing day until I was a willing and unquestioning slave to all her desires. The games started small, making me sit at the desk with my pants undone and my hard cock jutting out under the desk while the gentle cook bustled in with our coffee.

Or on my knees in her bedroom, licking her for what seemed like hours while she chattered in German on the telephone to her many friends and admirers, than casually denying me any release for a few days while mercilessly teasing me.

One night, I found myself strapped naked to her bed, a leather harness around my head with an obscene dildo jutting from the gag she had inserted in my mouth. Laughing, she had slid up and down that fake cock while my helpless eyes had to take in every second of it sliding in and out of her pussy while, all the time, completely ignoring my hard cock.

Then, there were the times she would tenderly caress my hair while she casually reached into my pants and stroke me to an urgent, spurting orgasm in the back of taxis, in the last row of a movie theatre or in some dark nightclub while plump singers crooned in German. I never knew when or how I would come and I just gave myself up to her.

All the time, the telephone calls came with offers for Caroline to star in the American movie, which was now called 'Money'. She felt the offer was reaching finalisation and her career was about to, at last, take off in America so she insisted she take me to an interesting club in the Motzstrasse for a long lunch.

The restaurant was stark and all the waiters were women, dressed like men in old fashioned dinner suits while accordion music was played by a three piece band, seated behind potted palms. I sat between Caroline and her two female friends who completely ignored me and chattered in fast and unintelligible German while sipping wine.

Suddenly, Caroline turned to me and looked me in the eye. "Undo your pants."

I quivered at the words but had no hesitation. "Yes Madame," I murmured and, reaching under the white tablecloth did as she demanded.

"Slide them down." Again I did so and as she had instructed me sometime ago never to wear underwear, my cock was fully exposed. As Caroline had insisted I remove my pubic hair some weeks prior, my hard cock stood in my denuded crotch, making me feel even more naked.

Caroline said something to her friends who leaned forward, lifted the tablecloth and stared down at my throbbing cock. One said something to the other, all women laughed and I felt myself flush but I didn't cover myself.

The conversation resumed as I sat there exposed for the entire evening. Every now and again, Caroline would slowly stroke me so I was always hard and show her companions who would giggle behind their hands.

It was some sort of game, one I just didn't understand but gave myself willingly, as Caroline required. At the conclusion of the meal, I was allowed to pull my pants up but had to leave the fly open so my cock was exposed if anyone should open my overcoat.

Later that evening after pleasuring her on my knees in her bedroom, she allowed me release as she smoked a cigarette and watched.

It was all a complicated game.

Part 7: How Do You Think It Feels?
'How do you think it feels
When you're speeding and lonely
Come here baby'
(How Do You Think It Feels – Lou Reed)

I was constantly stimulated in all ways and very happy but that soon changed.

Late one afternoon the telephone rang and it was an apologetic, defeated David Reed who spoke. "It's over James and you're going to have to tell her."

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?" I asked but, with a sinking heart, I understood all ready.

"They've chosen someone else, a British lady and she can do a European accent so the producers are happy. Tell Caroline I'm sorry but that's show business." The phone went dead and I looked over at Caroline who was seated on the sofa, cigarette in one hand, coffee in the other. She was looking at me calmly but I intuitively knew she had heard every word.

"Madame," I began nervously and she held up a delicate palm to stop me.

"I believe I can foresee the future," she said in a bitter voice. "And that future does not include America."

"Madame, I am sorry," I rushed but she was all ready standing, stubbing her cigarette out in a furious manner.

"Silence. I will go and visit friends for a while." Without another word she stalked out of the room and up to her room. About an hour later, I caught a glimpse of her in black as she passed by on her way out and, moments later, I heard the front door slam.

Late that night, I tossed and turned in my little bed, straining to hear some noise that would herald her return. I must have fallen asleep because I was woken by the front door slamming shut and then my bedroom door thrust open.

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I saw her in a black cocktail dress, her shoulders bare and a string of pearls wound tightly around her long throat, pearls dropped also from her ears.

Caroline was wide eyed and staring down at me as she dragged me from my bed, her fingers tearing at my pyjama pants until they were around my ankles. As her hand closed over my cock, I opened my mouth to speak but she seized my jaw with her other hand and glared into my eyes. "Silence, slave," she hissed and I shrank from her.

I had never seen such fire, such craziness in her blue eyes, rooted to the spot as she tore my pyjama top into pieces and I was completely naked.

A strange smile played on her face, her eyes wild and open as she led me by my cock up the stairs and to her room. Thrusting me face down onto the bed, I heard her rummaging in the bag and then felt my wrists cuffed together.

I was afraid of her energy and her wildness as I sensed she was either drunk or on pills so I slumped on the bed, all ready surrendering to her completely. A rope was attached to the wrists and I was dragged to stand in front of the curtains, my arms over my head as the rope was lashed to the bulky curtain rod.

A gag was roughly jammed into my mouth and she laughed when she saw the fear in my eyes. Regally, she walked away, my eyes glued to her as she pulled her dress off over her head. My cock stirred at the sight of her in her black corset, stockings, heels and pearls my heart pounded when I saw her pick up a thin cane, muttering to her self in German.
How do you think it feels
When you're speeding and lonely
Come here baby
How do you think it feels
when all you can say is if only
Caroline leapt forward, whipping the cane across my buttocks and I screamed into the gag as she shouted at me in her native tongue. Again, fire erupted across my buttocks and I cried out uselessly.
If only I had a little
If only I had some change
If only, if only, only
How do you think it feels
And when do you think it stops?
Shouting all the time, mostly in German but sometimes in English when she shouted, "How do you think it feels?", she slashed the cane across my shoulders and I screamed in pain.
How do you think it feels
When you've been up for five days
Come down here Mama
Hunting around always oooh
'Cause you're afraid of sleeping
Again and again, the blows rained down as I squirmed from side to side, pulling on the rope, straining to avoid the pain while still she shouted and flailed at me, my entire back a sea of pain.
How do you think it feels
To feel like a wolf and foxy
How do you think it feels
To always make love by proxy?
How do you think it feels
And when do you think it stops?
When do you think it stops?
Urgently, I pulled at the rope and, suddenly, the rope slipped from the curtain rod and I fell onto the floor, sobbing into the gag, my wrists still cuffed together. Caroline stood over me, staring wildly at me, her breasts rising and falling in the black lace with her passion and exertion.

After a moment, she threw the cane into the corner, squatted down to remove the cuffs and moved away, leaving me sobbing on the floor as my trembling fingers removed the gag. Caroline was standing by the French Doors, looking down onto the street and as I crawled to her, I could see a trickle of tears falling down her cheeks.

My lips pressed to the sheer silk covering her groin, my body racked with sobs as she idly stroked my hair. Through all this, my cock had been rock hard and remained so while I frantically kissed the silk, tears flooding down my face.

I knew it was not me she saw as she wielded the cane but those people in Hollywood who had tantalised her with a promise of a future that proved false and then brutally revealed their true selves. I was simply the chosen receiver of her pain.

"Tut mir leid," she murmured as she tenderly took me to bed. Light rain brushed against the French Doors as she held me all night and whispered to me as I lay in her arms until I fell into welcoming sleep, my face pressed against her breasts.

Part 8: All Tomorrow's Parties
'And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties'
(All Tomorrows Parties – Velvet Underground/Lou Reed)

For the next few weeks, Caroline was much gentler with me although she kept a firm control and would brook no disobedience at all. The city was moving towards Christmas, decorations in the stores and the cold winter wind was insistent and biting when I ventured outside.

My hair was shoulder length and Caroline would not even consider allowing me to cut it so I reconciled myself to keeping it. One day I heard her instructing cook on a special meal and she smiled at me oddly, a combination of delight and dread, when she told me we were entertaining a visitor tonight.

In the dining room I looked at the settings for two and looked questioningly at her. "I am dining with our guest, James," she said, a far away look in her eyes. "You will be our waiter. Cook will leave the food keeping warm in the servery and you provide a service. Do you understand?"

"Yes Madame," I replied, eyes lowered and an uneasy feeling came over me.

From my room, I heard cook leave and, sometime later, the doorbell chimed and faint female voices came from the lobby. Minutes later, Caroline appeared in my room, dressed in an elegant pale blue cocktail dress, her heels clicking loudly on the floors. As instructed I had waited for her naked, my groin newly shaved and my hair in a ponytail.

"Good," she smiled, looking me up and down before handing me a jumble of light green nylon. "Put this on," Caroline commanded and I slowly slid the green pantyhose on, my cock absurdly exposed through a hole cut in the crotch.

She clipped a ring around my balls and another around my cock while slowly stroking me to full hardness. A small bow tie on an elastic strap was placed around my neck and she was satisfied. "We will need wine in two minutes," were her last words before she swept out, leaving me to stare at my ridiculous image in the mirror.

Subconsciously, I had all ready figured it out so I wasn't that surprised to see Claire seated at the table, beautiful in black and red, with a broad smile on her face as she watched me walk into the room in my lewd costume with a bottle of fine red.

"Well, James," she smiled, looking at hard cock, "I see you are glad to see me. Come here." Self-consciously I stood before her as her light fingers ran over my straining cock, while her other hand patted the nylon that covered my buttocks. "Remember? I said you wouldn't have to wear green tights straight away?" A small giggle and, face flushing, I poured the wine for Claire and then Caroline.

"As you can see," Caroline said as I returned with the first course. "He is well trained. Of course there is more you can do."

"I'm sure there is. Thank you," Claire replied, raising her glass to Caroline in a small salute.

Caroline called me and I stood beside her, my cock still jutting out. "Yes Madame?" I asked.

"You will spend the night with Mistress Claire. Understand?"

"Yes Madame," I said sadly and continued with the meal. After the coffee, Caroline stood unsteadily and I thought I saw a little sadness as she smiled at us. "Enjoy the night," she murmured. "Träum was Schönes. Guten Abend."

Claire smiled at me and tapped her wineglass with a long finger once Caroline had left. Quickly, I refilled the glass. "I am in the guest room. Do you know where that is?"

"Yes Mistress," I said softly and she smiled over the rim of her wineglass.

"Wait for me there. You'll find some things on the bed, use them to prepare yourself."

I found a gag, cuffs and chains on the bed so I followed orders. A few moments later I had gagged and cuffed myself onto the bed to wait for my Mistress. Sometime passed but she finally arrived, smiling down at me as she lightly touched my straining cock. "If your father could see you now," she giggled.

It was a passionate teasing night with Claire satisfying herself many times and in many ways before she allowed me to climax. As she held me close, the sound of rain against the windows and her warm breath in my ear, she said, "You father has given up looking for you. He thinks you've been murdered or something. You should let him know."

"Yes Mistress, I will write."

"Good." Claire snuggled closer. "I always knew," she said softly after a while. "Knew what you were, although I wasn't completely sure. I certainly suspected anyway, that we were a perfect fit. You just had to find out. When will you come back to London?"

I turned my head away to watch the rain running down the windowpanes. "I don't know."

"I will wait for you, my sweet," she murmured in my ear as she snuggled closer.

Part 9: Oh, Jim
'All your two bit friends, they asked you for your autograph
They put you on the stage, they thought it would be good for a laugh
But I don't care where it's at
'Cause honey I'm just like an alley cat'
(Oh Jim – Lou Reed)

Claire left the next morning and Christmas rushed towards us as we resumed our life, although Caroline was slightly withdrawn. The games continued but there was a half-hearted feeling to them except, occasionally her harsh side surfaced.

One afternoon, the doorbell rang and a short balding man, wrapped in a cashmere overcoat stood at the door.

"Yes?" I inquired politely

"You must be James," he said in an American accent as he pushed past me before I could protest. "I'm David Reed. Where is Caroline?"

"Mr Reed," I protested but he was all ready moving towards the stairs when the door to the office opened and Caroline stood there watching him impassively.

"Caroline," he enthused, turning back down the stair. "Honey, you look great."

"Behämmert," she observed and I smiled quietly. Caroline walked back into the office and was seated at the sofa, fumbling for a cigarette when Reed and I walked in.

"Madame," I said quietly as I lit her cigarette.

"Honey," Reed said. "Have I got the part for you! It's great, it's you!"

"And this wonderful part is?" she asked coolly, blowing smoke into the room while I stood beside her, wondering if Caroline was going to explode and take the cane to this fake American.

"It's a sure thing for an Oscar for Best Supporting, nothing surer."

"Unfortunately, a lot of things you claim are not sure. Who is the Director?"

"An American kid the studios think is brilliant. The studios are ready to invest," Reed added, pulling a script from his bag and dropping it on the coffee table.

"I will have to read it," she said, eyeing the script with complete distaste.

"Hey, I know that but you are in, you have got the part and I have the contracts to prove it." He wildly waved a sheaf of papers. "I have to go to another meeting but read it, it's the character Roslyn, and let me know. I'll see myself out. I won't take no for an answer," Reed added as he sailed away.

The door slammed and Caroline slowly reached out for the script and I left her alone to read it. A while later, I heard her go up to her room to dress and I sat down with the script.

I finished it and threw it down on the sofa when I realised Caroline had been standing in the doorway watching me. "Madame," I exclaimed as I jumped to my feet and she sailed into the room. Leaning against the fireplace, she looked at me keenly, her blue eyes burrowing into me.

"Well?" she asked, eamining her make up in the mirror over the mantlepiece. "Your opinion is?"