Sylvie's Choice

Tim became even more urgent and wide eyed:

"It doesn't need to be Jake."

Sylvie froze:

"You want to watch me fuck somebody else?"

Tim continued eagerly:

"Yes -- yes I do -- just like you did with Jake..."

He sat back and closed his eyes and hysterically blurted out:

"I just need to see you fucked until you scream -- that's all. You asked me and I've told you. For fuck's sake -- what more can I say?"

He wept real tears of remorse:

"Oh Sylvie, I'm so sorry -- I love you so much, but I am what I am.

No -- no - please forget I said that -- I can manage -- it will get better -- I promise -- I really can't ask you for that..."

In his shame, he cast her off, grabbed his coat and rushed out of the flat in a panic.

She would not see him for a day and a night.

******

Sylvie pondered long and hard.

She was frightened that Tim might destroy himself and didn't want that on her conscience but to fuck somebody off the street -- this was asking too much.

Then a plan began to form.

She would trust her secret to Ray.

First, she begged him not to tell Lyn -- the upset would be too dreadful.

Second, she told him what she wanted and why she wanted it. She was aware of the secret lives of Ray's models in the Studio -- the giving of sexual favours in return for money -- and, knowing her need, what did he suggest?

He gave her a contact -- his name was Billy. He was "top notch" and "very careful" -- all Ray's models used him when they had the inclination. Just tell him what she wanted, and he would "sort it".

She took a double double Scotch and made the call.

She met Billy over cocktails at St Pancras. He was very professional and ensured she made clear her limits to avoid any misunderstandings. Yes -- she wanted full sex; yes -- she was prepared to give oral; yes -- she would accept anal penetration; yes -- she would allow the use of dildos; no -- she didn't want BDSM; and yes - she was healthy and could prove it.

She wanted Billy there - when she first did it - to avoid any aggravation. Despite being a little crowded with both him and Tim looking on, it was the safe option, and she was unsure how Tim would react when the fucking started.

Finally, she was surprised there was no fee -- in fact she would earn some money as her partner would be a client of Billy who was apparently turned on by an audience. Sylvie shivered and all was agreed.

******

When Tim returned to the flat still agitated, she sat him down and told him her plan. His first reaction was shock that she was prepared to go all the way for him -- then recrimination at his failure and a token attempt to persuade her to drop it -- and finally acceptance and a tearful promise that this would be the only time.

Sylvie's resolve was strengthened, and an evening date was fixed. Billy's advice on dress and etiquette was invaluable and he suggested they rent a suite at a West End hotel for the night if Sylvie was prepared to waive a portion of her fee. All was agreed and Billy offered to pick them both up at the flat and drive them over. Finally, to Sylvie's surprise, her fee appeared in her account the morning before the big event - Billy's operation was obviously slick and this gave her re-assurance and security. She was extremely nervous, but her anticipation was exhilarating - it felt so good.

******

Tim and Sylvie sat in luxurious decadence in the back of Billy's Mercedes as it sedately made its way west through London's busy streets. Billy had thoughtfully provided a bottle of fizz and they were already on the second glass. Sylvie's tummy was already warming, and she began to glow.

While Billy and Tim were smartly turned out in jackets, chinos and loafers, Sylvie was in a delightful state of undress under her long overcoat which was coyly spread open in the heat of the car.

Following Billy's advice she wore a simple leopard skin pattern, semi-transparent, full length wrap over her naked body. The broad white belt holding the wrap in place was tucked up snugly under her breasts to give uplift and a narrow elasticated tie above her cleavage gripped the top of the wrap and stretched it taut over her tits. The tight restraint above and below served to provocatively project and display her breasts under the transparency. The gap in the wrap ran up to the underside of the belt providing a daring exposure of leg, thigh, bum, hip and waist. Her legs were lengthened by nude strap heels and her hair was in a bun held in place by a mother of pearl slide just as Tim liked it. She was burning hot and unashamed -- it had been a long time since her last fuck, and she could see that Tim was trembling in anticipation.

When Billy pulled up under the canopy of the hotel reception, the door was opened by a top hatted attendant and Sylvie, with her coat belted, stepped out with a flash of bare thigh to wait for Billy and Tim. The attendant enjoyed the view and she saw Billy slip the guy a £20 note before the car was whisked away.

When the three walked through reception the atmosphere seemed to Sylvie to be electric. With every stride her bare thigh with its strap heel was exposed through the gap in her coat and she sensed that every man and woman who stared at her knew why she was there. The feeling grew when Billy walked her to a tall middle-aged man, well built, with greying hair and a twinkly mischievous smile. He was introduced as James, and he immediately lent into her to kiss her on the cheek. All four then walked to the desk to sign in.

At that moment Sylvie felt her first tremulous orgasm. The two male receptionists checking in one woman and three men obviously knew her situation and each pocketed a £50 note from Billy. They made no attempt to hide the lustful curiosity in their eyes. The key was handed over and they all entered the elevator. It was here that James undid Sylvie's belt and slid the coat from her shoulders before handing it to Billy. She was to walk, shamefully exposed in her wrap, from the lift to their room, accompanied by the three men. Tim began to shake violently as he ran his eyes up and down Sylvie's deliciously presented body.

As they exited the lift a couple passed them in the corridor -- they were all stares and whispers. Then two African men appeared from a side corridor, and their eyes locked onto Sylvie's breasts -- they gasped open mouthed in surprise as they passed. Finally, two cleaning ladies emerged from the door of their room and stole a look at her. Billy slipped a £50 note to each woman while they stared admiringly at Sylvie's upstanding tits before giggling and quickly disappearing. All the time Sylvie stared defiantly ahead as her proud dark nipples pushed against the taut wrap and her cunt began to leak cum.

James placed his arm around Sylvie's waist and ushered her into the suite. The others followed.

Billy went to the fridge in the small kitchen and fetched a bottle of Krug with four glasses. They toasted the evening and James with a nod from Billy took Sylvie in his arms and ran his lips over her bare shoulders. Her breathing deepened and she leant into him offering herself - allowing him to take control. In her passion she saw Billy move to the large sofa with his glass and the bottle and Tim, still shaking, walk to a dark corner away from prying eyes -- detached and ready to watch each delectable move as his woman was taken all ways by a total stranger.

******

Sylvie was screaming -- James was up her arse for the umpteenth time. She was wet with perspiration, champagne and cum and they were about two hours in -- their stamina was remarkable. Tim lost count how often Sylvie came, but she was insatiable. She was still wearing the belt under her tits - she had cried out when James buckled it even tighter - and her proffered nipples were swollen and red with over stimulation -- but her wrap and heels had gone, her hair was dishevelled, and her bun had been annihilated by his prick.

Sylvie was in nirvana -- never wanting to stop -- to just go on and on and on and on.

Tim saw Billy go to the door -- there had been a faint coded knock. A young tall guy stood in the doorway and Billy let him enter out of Sylvie's view. Billy went to James and whispered something, and he withdrew leaving a glistening, seemingly exhausted, panting Sylvie on all fours on the bed with a fresh stream of cum flowing from both her open cunt and her distended anus.

Billy went to Sylvie and bent to whisper in her ear -- she reacted with shocked surprise and her startled eyes opened wide. She took a deep breath:

"Oh my... another...?"

She looked up and gasped before replying in a husky, dirty, yearning voice:

"Oh fuck - yes -- oh my... yes -- I want him -- please -- let him fuck me."

The young guy stripped and offered his new untried erection to Sylvie's mouth, and it all began again.

******

Early in the morning Tim awoke to see James and Young Guy tag-teaming Sylvie. Young Guy was a little rougher than James, using Sylvie's hair to pull back her head in "doggy" together with a little light slapping across her bum at the appropriate time, but Sylvie appeared to be loving every minute -- still panting -- still screaming when she came -- perhaps a little weaker -- but still in the game.

The rumpled sheets and pillows were covered with a mess of cum, lubricating cream, massage oil and champagne together with an assorted range of dildos - used once or twice to pleasure her and then discarded on the bed or dropped carelessly on to the carpet.

When one man tired the other took over in a never-ending relentless round of mouth, cunt and ass and the dildos were always there when both men needed to recuperate before going again.

As the early morning light began to peek under the blinds Tim saw Sylvie look to Billy and mouth:

"No more."

Billy came to each man in turn and lay his hand on their shoulder. Understanding the signal, they both withdrew.

It was over.

The men left Sylvie to herself, exhausted, satiated and face down asleep, spreadeagled nude on the great bed amid the detritus of the night of her induction.

******

"Miss -- Miss -- Wake up Miss"

Sylvie stirred her aching naked body and rolled over to focus her sleepy eyes on the two cleaning ladies who were bending over her:

"Miss, we need to clean the room -- please Miss you must go. The gentleman left you a suitcase. He's in reception ready to take you home."

The second woman lay her hand on Sylvie's midriff:

"What have they done to you lovely -- look at the state of this room. You need to shower and go home and rest this gorgeous body of yours."

Both women lifted Sylvie off the bed and, after cutting away the breast belt -- it was too tight to unbuckle -- they got her into the shower.

An exhausted Sylvie was soon speeding home in the Merc with Billy. He had thought of almost everything -- he had packed a frumpy floral smock with some flats but there was still no underwear!

******

For Tim that night would be a turning point but not in the way he had hoped. To see his woman given the fuck of her life and know that he could never ever match that performance drove him into a profound depression. He could not look at Sylvie, let alone speak to her and when she arrived back at the flat, he was already packed and gone.

For Sylvie the night was a revelation. To be exhibited to strangers - to be fucked by strangers - to be debased and debauched -- it all tapped into a deep, long buried, need. She was amazed at the power and the sustainability of her arousal and, with Billy orchestrating the event as her "Svengali", she was free to let go and -- yes -- she had to admit -- be a slut in all its wonderful connotations of sin, exhibitionism and insatiability.

Tim had disappeared -- there was nothing more she could do but she still feared for his safety, and she still loved him. She owed him so much and she would find him and nourish him -- that was her pledge.

She checked her account that morning and was shocked to find that her earnings had trebled -- she was suddenly without money worries. She contacted Billy thinking there was an error but no -- his clients were delighted with Sylvie and would welcome another session when she was ready.

In the weeks that followed, in between searching for Tim, she would take him up on his offer as a welcome distraction from her worries. Billy understood Sylvie and the opportunities he offered her were becoming increasingly pleasurable - exploiting her most secret desires - and growing even more lucrative.

******

With her new earnings she employed a private detective to find Tim. He was a seedy creepy little man called Ron who was highly effective according to Billy. Sylvie hated the way he looked at her as if he could divine her true nature. Whenever they met, she could almost feel his clammy banana fingers squeezing and pinching her tits and his sweaty palms on her thighs. He never made eye contact as he talked but feasted on his favourite morsels as his gaze wandered unashamedly over her body from her breasts to her crotch to her bum to her legs. On returning to the flat following her latest meeting with him in a grubby little office in Somers Town, she was desperate for a shower to wash him off but was surprised to see a crumpled note in the letter box. It was from Tim:

"Sylvie, you must leave London now -- go to the Cottage -- don't ask questions -- don't try to find me -- just go -- please -- I beg you."

It was clearly written in a hurry and in severe distress, and obviously posted within the last two hours but it was too late.

She heard a sharp wrap on the front-door!

She was in for a surprise.

Mrs Chan forcefully took Sylvie's arm and led her up to the sitting room.

She was agitated and whispered conspiratorially in Sylvie's ear:

"My child sit -- sit!

We need to talk but you must stay calm and listen."

Sylvie would not sit and breaking free from her grip paced around the room in dread as Mrs Chan continued:

"Mr Chan has your man captive and will not release him unless the debt is paid in full. It is terrible -- there will be no negotiation and if the money is not received then the end will be quick and final."

Sylvie managed to calm and, thinking clearly, cut to the point:

"What do you want from me. How do I to get him released?"

Mrs Chan smiled:

"Not such a child I see -- yes -- yes -- I knew when I first saw you -- so innocent but so experienced in love and I think so daring -- yes -- Mr Chan was right in his appraisal."

Sylvie was not flattered:

"Please tell me -- now!"

Mrs Chan was not to be rushed:

"Let us make tea and then we will talk."

******

Ray and Sylvie attempted to calm Lyn who was screaming her contempt at mankind in general:

"Please honey -- you can't put yourself through this just for that hopeless piece of shit. Let him rot -- he deserves everything coming to him and that fucker Chan and his crone of a wife -- tell them to go to hell!!

I won't let you go -- grab her Ray and lock her in the cellar."

Sylvie laughed out loud, but Lyn was being deadly serious.

Ray, calm as ever, insisted that Sylvie get Billy involved in the Chan's plans for her -- otherwise she could be lost:

"Are you sure babe -- do you love him that much -- are you prepared to see it through? "

Sylvie nodded.

"Well, you must go ahead, but get Billy to manage it. I'm sure Chan will agree. He knows Billy has the best stable in town and he can be very creative once he understands Chan's proposal."

Sylvie was relieved that Ray had confirmed her own solution to her awful dilemma.

It was inevitable that Lyn would find out about Tim and his problems. Billy had tipped Ray off regarding Sylvie's predicament and Lyn, paranoid and suspicious as ever, had listened in on the phone call.

Ray had called Sylvie back to Norfolk to forestall Lyn's plan to confront the Chans and tell them to leave Sylvie alone and shoot the little fucker if he couldn't pay them off.

Sylvie, still hoping to persuade Lyn to back off, agreed to stay over at the farm before returning to London and Lyn promptly banished Ray to the Studio for the night. She was not normally into restraint, but keen to show Sylvie that she could keep it up longer than any man, she tied her wrists to the bedhead and the night passed in tortured love making, tears and reproaches, sensational orgasms and little sleep.

The following morning, Lyn, accepting the inevitable, reluctantly let Sylvie return to London but she vowed to herself and the coven that she would get her revenge. A sacrifice was made at the Stones in the Old Wood and black magic was released to work its terrible savagery.

******

Sylvie was shown into the Bentley by Chan's uniformed chauffeur and as she settled into pampered luxury that familiar feeling of acute anticipation began to creep through her.

The tall crystal glass of Krug was waiting on the polished walnut table and the open bottle was sitting in the small glass fronted refrigerator behind the chauffeur.

As she sipped the enervating bubbly, she gazed out at the passing London skyline fresh glistening in the winter sunshine after a morning of heavy showers. The sun had come out to lighten her spirit and stimulate her with its heat -- preparing her for the long night ahead.

It was not only her love for Tim that had led her here. Yes, he would be free but this was no longer the sole justification for her anticipated performance and the services she would be expected to provide. She was now addicted -- was it nymphomania -- was it a deep seated need to be watched and lusted after -- was it the ultimate high of being openly debauched and corrupted? She didn't know and didn't care -- she just knew that she couldn't live without it.

Becoming warm and light with the Krug she was determined to enjoy the experience -- to put on a good show. This was a "once in a lifetime" event and she would eternally regret wasting the night if she was inhibited by blame or recrimination.

Town turned to dreary suburbs and then to a green and wooded countryside as the early evening began to darken and the shadows under the trees blackened with latent mystery. The bottle of Krug was close to empty, but the anaesthetic was working and her courage continued to grow. She guessed they would soon arrive at John Chan's house and her time for reflection in the temporary womb of the Bentley would come to an end.

She was caught by surprise when they turned off a narrow country lane and passed through a pair of open gilded iron gates. As the Bentley made its stately way down the winding driveway and cleared a small dense wood of evergreens, the old house could be seen behind a curving new cut lawn, and every room was illuminated with bright cosy orange light to welcome her and John Chan's guests to the evening's entertainments.

The Bentley pulled up in front of the main entrance, and a middle-aged Asian woman in a neat white short sleeved cotton dress and a pair of elegant white high heels, walked confidently and a little disdainfully, down the steps and opened the door for her.

******

In a locked attic room of John Chan's mansion Tim's guilt gnawed away at him like a tumour. He had been informed that afternoon by Chan himself that Sylvie had offered herself to save him, and he knew in his heart that his young loving woman of the gift-giving and the homecoming would never return. This was all his doing, and he would need to live with his sin. He must be strong. He owed that to himself and to her.

Chan had insisted that he attend the party to complete the settlement, and with horror he foresaw the sight of other men servicing Sylvie and giving her satisfaction, a feat he knew he would never perform again.

He loved Sylvie more than any woman he had ever known. He had made over the cottage to her to protect her from Chan's lawyer friends. He had watched with pleasure as she developed into the girl of his dreams and, in another life, they would have settled down, married and had kids. He had been financially secure before he met Chan, and his family could have lived the good life. That was now all gone. He had corrupted her to save his own skin and he could never look her in the eye again without being reminded of this awful truth.