The Real Story of O and Sir Stephen

I rented a nondescript black Renault Dauphine for the occasion and the evening proceeded as planned. It was clear from the outset, that I had been correct. O was aroused and excited by the "new" assertive Rene. As soon as she took off her gloves, I knew we had her. Rene acted out his role impeccably. By the time we had arrived at Roissy, the smell of O's arousal permeated the entire car. After O exited the vehicle, I drove to the alley in back and parked the car. Before leaving, I pointed out to Rene the white stain on back seat under where O had been sitting, further evidence of her arousal and submissiveness. We hugged and shook hands. "Now let's go watch the show."

O.

[Just thinking about that night makes me incredibly excited. I gaze up at Master and, as usual, he understands me without the need for words. He removes the bungee cords and motions for me to come sit on his lap. He raises my cuffed wrists over his head so that I am locked in an embrace. This is a rare treat for me. We kiss and His tongue probes my mouth. I groan and wriggle trying to find some friction for my nubbin. Our embrace lingers on deliciously. I am worried my effusions with stain Master's trousers but He must be aware of what he is doing to me. Finally his hand reaches down and I have one of the most delicious, sensuous morts of my live. Not a violent shaking, consciousness losing, spasm but a long languid release of tension. Merci Maitre! He then motions me back to my workstation (grinning)]

After what seemed like hours, but was probably less than five minutes, the door to this house opened and I was ushered into an entrance hall by two chambermaids dressed in a the classical style. They curtseyed and then held out their hands wordlessy. It was clear to me that they wanted me to disrobe and hand them my clothes, and that I did. My clothes were folded neatly and stowed in one of the many closets lining the hallway. They told me they were ordered to prepare me for the evening; showing me into an enormous bathroom where they proceeded to bathe me. I tried to ask them questions, but they simply silenced me by placing an index finger across their lips. They washed, dried and styled my hair as if I were in a regular salon, with the exception that I was stark naked. When I tried to cross my legs or bring them together, they firmly returned them to an open state. In the enormous mirror I could see my engorged sex and swollen nether lips and, once again, I was amazed. I wondered whether Rene was watching me from a peephole or from behind one of the mirrors. I could feel a presence, and that made me happy.

After my coiffure, make-up and perfume applied, I was escorted to an anteroom. There was only one piece of furniture, an ottoman with black faux fur. Surrounding the ottoman was a three sided mirror. The rug was black, the walls were covered with red velvet wallpaper. The chambermaids motioned me to sit and gave me a pair of bright red high heeled mules with an 8 cm heel. I sat there for what seemed an eternity remembering to keep my legs apart and gazing at the phenomenally erotic vision in the mirror. Wherever I looked, I could see my image. My cheeks were flushed with desire, my nipples standing engorged and erect and my nether parts equally at attention. At that moment, I felt that I was the most attractive woman in the world.

Because of a childhood trauma when I saw my cousin masturbating, I have always been disgusted by the act of self stimulation. For the first time in my life, I actually considered it, but resisted the urge. Somehow I sensed I was being watched and that masturbation was not allowed. And didn't know how to accomplish it, either.

I noticed that the sound of the rain had ceased. Perhaps that was a sign?

Sir Stephen

[As O was typing I could smell her arousal. The small tugs on her nether lips from the attached cords contributed to her agitation, but I knew the true cause were her recollections of that evening. I motioned her over, removed the bungees and sat her on my lap. I allowed her to place her arms around me and we necked for awhile. Kind of like 2 teenagers on their parent's couch...except for the fact she was naked and I was fully clothed and the clamps on her nipples and lower lips (chuckling). Finally I reached down and brought her to a luxurious 'mort. I could feel her tremble as the tensions exited her body and felt her warm embrace as she thanked me.]

Rene and I had entered through the kitchen and made our may up to small room without windows that contained 2 upholstered benches, each situated directly in front of a wall shielded by a black velvet curtain. We entered and I motioned Rene to sit on the bench and I found the draw string and opened the curtain revealing a direct view into the bathroom where O was being bathed and prepared through a half silvered mirror. As she sat in the salon chair with her legs open and sex gleaming she seemed to look directly at us, but in reality looking she was looking at herself. Or did she know Rene would be watching her? Even after being toweled dry, her nether fur and the insides of her thighs glistened with arousal. I whispered this into Rene's ear. He only nodded, transfixed by the image in front of him.

After O was taken to her antechamber, we moved to the second bench, and I closed the curtain to the bathroom and opened the curtain to reveal O perched naked on the bristly ottoman. The look on her face was one of excitement and arousal, perhaps mixed with a little fear.

O.

[It has been a day since I last wrote. Yesterday, my writing has disturbed by the need to remove the clamps from my nipples and lips. Master always keep track of my clamping times so as. Not to cause any permanent damage. After the pain and pleasure of the clamping removal I was carried to bed; in no condition to continue my writing. This morning I awoke refreshed and ready to get back to work. I am a bit surprised to find myself sitting on His desk without restraints, clamps or intruders. Of course I am naked and my wrist cuffs and collar is on, but the cuffs have not been joined or attached to any chains or other paraphernalia. I am suspicious (hopeful) that Master has something planned to spice up my morning, however (winking). I don't have long to wait...

Master politely asks me to bring him some coffee and a muffin. He specifies that I use my tray. I sigh (so that's it!). I hop off the desk and open a drawer in a sideboard and remove my tray. This is a custom-made device that is a standard breakfast tray in which a semicircle has been cut and four holes drilled at the four corners. The 2 holes closest to the cut out are connected to a chain that goes through the ring attached to the front of my collar. The semicircular cut out allows the tray to nestle around my midsection at the level of my navel. It is the other 2 holes that make me shiver. There is a large, sturdy, adjustable nipple clamp attached to each of the front chains. And the fact that the clamps are adjustable highlights the diabolical nature of this device. Since my hands will eventually be locked behind my back, once attached, the clamps will be the only support of the tray to prevent it from flopping down and spilling the contents. Since the clamps are adjustable it is up to me to attach them and adjust the tension. Too loose will result in broken china and punishment. Too tight and OUCH....but I guess there is no such thing as too tight [sighing]. In this way Master forces me to participate in my own torture. So I take a deep breath and prepare to inflict pain upon myself. And exactly how much pain is up to me in a perverse way. Master is a genius.

From experience, I place the clamps as far back from the nubbin as possible. The tip of the nipple is the most sensitive, so I avoid placing the clamp there unless instructed otherwise. However, the clamp must still be on the aureola and not on the less sensitive white flesh of my breasts. I tighten them to their highest setting, preferring the pain to a catastrophic accident. I return to the desk for Master's inspection. He assures himself that the clamps are biting the pink and nods his head in approval. He attaches my wrist cuffs together behind my back and gives me a swat on my derriere sending me off to the kitchen. Nora heats one of her famous blueberry muffins loved by Master and brews some fresh coffee while I stand naked in the kitchen. My nipples are already throbbing. Finally she places the ¾ filled coffee mug, a china plate with the muffin, and a fork on my tray. No napkin is necessary as Master will undoubtedly have me clean his fingers in my mouth. The additional weight places even more strain on my agonized tissue. I walk extremely slowly and carefully back towards Master's study and I am dismayed to find that the door is closed. Another hoop for me to jump through. [sighing]

This situation requires some intense concentration as I must turn around, to put my back towards the door in order to grasp the door knob, twist it open, and push the door open with by derriere. Finally I back into the room without spilling any coffee. It goes without saying that every movement causes more agony to my poor nipples. Meticulously I perform my ballet, and finally have entered the study without a drop spilt. I stand, panting with exertion inside the doorway, sweat beginning to bead up under my arms, trying to catch my breath.

"Don't dawdle, please." I quicken my pace slightly, and finally arrive behind the desk with my precious cargo intact. Master barely looks up and reaches for his mug and sips it while reading some papers. I remain at attention at his side waiting for him to relieve me of my other burden. Finally, he removes the plate and the muffin and breaks it into two unequal pieces. He eats the larger piece slowly, alternating bites with sips of coffee. I wait patiently. Finally he looks up and smiles at me. "Turn around, please."

After releasing my wrists from their bondage He commands, "You may take your tray off, put it away, and come back and sit on my lap." Once again Master is forcing me to participate in my own torture. Although the clamps on the highest tension are exquisitely painful, that pain will pale in comparison to when the clamps are removed. And Master is requiring that I remove them myself!

White hot searing, almost unbearable pain when the first clamp is removed. And I am not allowed to touch myself to ease that pain. When the pain from the left subsides a bit, the right nipple joins the symphony of pain. I cannot completely stifle a grunt of agony, but at least I prevented myself from screaming. Discipline.

With tears on my eyes, and a fire in my loins, I nearly run over to Master and sit on his lap as directed. He begins to suckle on my nipple bringing on a different, duller pain. My natural instinct is to pull away, but Master uses his strength to prevent that. Tears are streaming down my eyes. But then.... His hand slides into my gushing orifice. All my attention is immediately diverted to my loins. Almost, immediately, I ask permission to 'mort. Permission is granted immediately. I have a generous Master! I fall off the mountain into an abyss of pleasure and pain. He continues to suckle at my breasts , alternating between them. The sharp intense pain is gradually being replaced by a duller, more bearable aching. Then, almost inperceptively at first, my nipples begin to respond to his ministration. The pain begins continues to diminish as the pleasure increases. His hands are still busy downstairs and I lose count of how many times I die until nearly exhausted, I climax one final time and collapse into His arms. How many times did I fall over the cliff? Certainly more than 4. Perhaps 6? Master tells me how proud he is of me and I beam. I forget my training and throw my arms around His neck and kiss him deeply. He kisses me in return and when I pull away he is smiling. I wonder if I will be punished for touching him without permission. I dismiss the thought. Even if it results in punishment, it was worth it. I love Master!

Master then breaks off a piece of muffin and places it on his palm. I suck up the morsel from his hand, like a pet being fed by her Master. Delicious! He then takes a gulp of coffee and places his lips over mine and transfers the brew to my mouth. Master feeds me this way until all is gone. I begin to be concerned that he will require me to use my tray to return the dishes to the kitchen, but he rings for Nora. Then he removes his finger from it's hiding place and there is an audible squish. We both laugh, and He says with a wink, "Coffee break is over. Back to work."

"Yes sir!" I have one more task to accomplish. Master places his fingers into my mouth and I suck on them greedily, cleaning my own love juices from his powerful fingers. The taste is sour, but I am used to it.

I am aglow. It is part love, part desire, part rapture. But most important it is a feeling that I am exactly where I belong, doing exactly what I am doing, with exactly who I should be doing it with. Perhaps that is the definition of contentment]

At last, the 2 chambermaids returned with a man dressed in a long purple robe and tights. As he walked the robe would open and I could see that his flaccid manhood was uncovered and he also carried a whip tucked into his belt. The last thing I noticed that he was wearing a mask [winking]. The man was more muscular than Rene so I was sure it wasn't my lover. Thusfar, only Rene and the 2 chambermaids had seen my nakedness. Now, here I was, sitting completely exposed in front of a masked male who was a complete stranger to me.

Perhaps I should have bolted. Demand to be allowed to leave. Instead I meekly submitted to whatever they had in store for me. I told myself that the reason I didn't leave Roissy at that moment was because of my love for Rene...to prove my love to him. However, if I look deep into myself, I remained submissively sitting on that chair because I had never been so sexually aroused in my life and couldn't wait to experience what would happen next.

Rather quickly, I was measured and fitted with a leather collar, wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs. One of the chambermaids remarked on how small my wrists and ankles were. Inwardly I was proud. I was told I would dine alone and then someone would come to finish my preparation and present me.

I do not recall if I ate anything. I doubt that I did. Eventually the chambermaids returned and fastened my wrists together behind my back and covered me with a robe. I was escorted into a room that resembled a library, I saw the outline of 4 men, standing in robes but could not make out their features or even if Rene was one of them because immediately, a bright light was shone directly into my eyes. Subsequently I was blindfolded so I had no idea of the identity or appearance of the men who I was reasonably sure, would soon be taking me. Rather than being terrified of this possibility, I was excited by the prospect. As if I knew all my life that this would be my fate.

Sir Stephen

[I would like to clear something up. In her book, Pauline makes a comment about my sexual proclivities. She states that I was only interested in the passage that O had in common with a man. I reject that innuendo. The truth about my "preference" is more prosaic. Roissy had a rule that if Members or guests were using the usual orifice, condoms must be worn. This was solely for the prevention of pregnancy. Remember this was in the early 1950's and there were only two sexually transmitted diseases we worried about, and both were treatable by a in injection of Penicillin. This was pre-HIV, pre-Herpes, pre-chlamydia. Since the condom rule was solely for the prevention of pregnancy and not for the prevention of disease, condoms were not required for the use of the other 2 orifices.

I am a surgeon, and over the years, I had developed a severe latex allergy from wearing latex surgical gloves for long periods of time. Operating rooms were required to stock nitrile gloves for me to wear because of the severe skin reaction I would have if exposed to latex. In those days, all condoms were made of latex, so I could never use one. So that is why I used O's posterior channel exclusively. I would have preferred to use the lubricated channel designed for that purpose, but that option was not open to me.

To be honest, I had begun to tire of my evenings at Roissy. Most of the members did not care about the feelings of the women they were using. They simply took their pleasure and went back to their smoking, drinking and gambling. Selfish and venal. Here were women giving the greatest gift and being treated like so much chattel. I did not let my feelings be known. I needed Roissy to implement my plan to capture the woman of my destiny. I also preferred to have an emotional connection to the women I interacted with. The anonymity of Roissy was a real turn-off for me. I longed to have emotional connection with a soumise.]

Rene and I removed our clothes and donned the luxurious black robes provided for us by the club. The "Valets" wore purple, the members wore black. I was awestruck by the sight of O being led into the library. The combined look of submission, expectation, and lust filled me with such desire, I could barely contain myself. What a woman! I had to make her mine!

0.

[Master pointed down at his crotch and responded instantly by crawling under the desk, opening his robe and giving him the pleasure he deserves. After I thanked him for depositing his seed into my throat, He handed my lap top down to me. Words were not required. I was to continue my memoir.]

I was led further into the room, stumbling slightly and could feel the warmth of the fire against my posterior. I could hear the men approaching. An anonymous voice, "Have you whipped her or tied her up?" "No." I recognized Rene's voice. He was there, as promised! It seemed like they were preparing to whip me when one of the men decided "I want to take her now." I was blindfolded and forced onto my knees, leaned over an ottoman crushing my breasts against the stiff fabric.

The first man entered me from behind. He slid in easily. Actually that was the first time a man had entered me so easily without me placing artificial lubricant. I remember thinking "so this is how it is supposed to be." Unfortunately both men who took me initially climaxed early with no opportunity for me to climax. The next man in line, however, was a horse of a different color. I did not describe him or this episode in detail to Madame Reage. Quite frankly, I was embarrassed to tell her about what happened next, about my sexual awakening. So the world never really knew about how I was transformed that night.

The third man was different. Firstly, rather than using my love canal, he entered my back passage. He must have used some lubricant to ease the entry since I had never been used that way before. Even so, the pain was excruciating and I must have screamed. What happened next, however, was astonishing to me. After he had penetrated me to the hilt, rather than continue callously until his ejaculation as the others had done, he stopped with his member deep inside me. He leaned over and whispered in my, ear. "Just relax and let your mind wander. Surrender to me and I will take you to heaven." He remained motionless and soon my sphincter relaxed and my bowels became accustomed to the intruder. "Good girl, he cooed. Now for the pleasure." He reached his hand under me and plunged a finger into my sopping tunnel. He then curled the finger and began to massage the inner lining of my innermost organ. Incredible sensations began to wash over me. It was like I was standing under a waterfall. With another finger he began manipulation my nubbin. I began breathing deeply concentrating on the delicious feelings in my loins. "That's it, O, surrender to the sensation" He began moving his member slightly, but not painfully. The combination of sensations was too much for me, I screamed, I moaned, I thrashed, as I experienced my first moment of complete ecstasy. My first 'mort. A revelation. That moment was the inflection point of my entire life. I was forever changed.