Total Woman Gems Ch. 07

Ned lounged in the comfy over-stuffed chair, sipping his drink, watching the waitress, topless in her custom banquet service uniform, making her rounds. Her presence was appreciated by the other members of the select group of gentlemen in the entrance parlor of this secluded elite venue in London.

Her uniform was a classic rendition of black heels and panties, her brunette curls done up in a clasped bunch, leaving her shoulders, arms and boobs bare, on full display to the fascinated men. Her tanned body was highlighted by expensive jewelry, sparkling in the mood-setting low lighting. The twinkling shimmers were complemented by strategically applied rosy rouge, highlighting her attractive face and feminine zones. She was the first display of the elegance that these elite males expected in exchange for the expensive fees they had paid to attend tonight's performances.

Tonight she was the perfect welcoming hostess, greeting and assuring their comfort and well-being. But the men knew that on other evenings, she might well be one of the sexual artistes, the purpose of their excited attendance. They hadn't even begun tonight's personal participation events and they already looked forward to a next visit. They just hoped that tonight's hostess didn't rotate out to another elite venue before they could return and savor her more intimate charms.

The hostess took one last look around, satisfying herself that the men were ready for the show to begin. She signaled her matron that all was ready. A purple gowned woman entered the room and launched the night's festivities.

"Welcome to you all. Thank you for coming. I do see a few familiar faces, thank you for your continued patronage. For our new younger member, a special welcome. We hope you enjoy your first visit and come again real soon. Now... please direct your attention to our first young lady who has prepared herself to delight one of tonight's group with his requested fetish fantasy."

A pretty brunette lass entered the room. She sported a violet silk nightie, a two piece set consisting of tap pants and a low cut top. The lights skittered off her sequined mule sandals. Her step was light but practiced, subtly flaunting her loosely veiled round boobs. The top covered her tits but her pokies danced alluringly underneath. She smiled shyly, fingering her tresses, looking briefly at each seated man, wondering which one had requested the college coed sugar daddy scenario.

Taking his cue, the man who had booked this scene rose from his chair and approached. It was her first indication of her evening's mate. He was fit and trim, middle aged with dark wiry hair, wearing a tailored business suit. His look and manners exuded wealth and confidence.

She maintained her fixed smile as her face rolled upward, following his austere look as he stepped very close and hovered over her. She actually warmed to his manly presence, accepting her fate to be his fetish selection. The establishment's safety protocols assured her safety.

He didn't smile or greet her, simply took her hand, leading her back towards the exit door. Her step was bouncy glib as he stoically led her off to her staged college dorm room. She hoped this pseudo sugar daddy would be as good as some of her past partners and grant her full body orgasms as she enflamed him to experience the same.

The college date couple's exit signaled the next entrance for the evolving evening's show. This young lady wore a sleeveless body-hugging party dress, her honey blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and back. The lavender dress was low cut, exposing cleavage and skin down past her bellybutton. The matching lilac strappy heels were stiletto style, making her stride careful and slow. She stood solemn, not fearful but quiet, gathering attention to her presence.

Suddenly, she swiveled her hips to loosen her posture. Then she hinged forward fully at the waist, dunking down until her head almost touched the floor. Flipping back up with her long blonde hair whipping behind, her fingers combed back the strands behind her ears. The stance pushed her chest forward, a prominent display of barely contained tit flesh.

She regained her balance with a slow hip cycle and looked about for the man who had requested his favorite fuck-the-pole-dancing-stripper fantasy.

The youngest man, the newbie with a bad boy scruffy beard, stood quickly and seized her hand. He towed her off to their waiting scenario room, a replica of the typical strip club stage and the obligatory couch lounge. The older gentlemen snickered knowingly at his enthusiastic display, remembering the unruly lust of their own youth.

A darkly staged performer followed the young pair's exit. She was Goth attired: heavy eye makeup, purple lipstick, a tall metal studded leather collar with multiple restraint rings, a cup-less clenched-waist corset, shiny black pasties capping her nipples. Sheer purple stockings covered her legs from her stiletto heels to high on her thighs. She was nude from the top of the stockings to the hem of her corset, exposing her pierced shaved pussy. A large amethyst bauble hung from one of her labia rings, skittering the light, drawing attention to her pleasure center. Her strapped wrists were connected with a long silver chain, a handy accessory for deferred tighter binding.

The only other man in the room with Ned drew himself up to his feet. He was tall and athletic and also wore black: wool slacks, a Spandex tee-shirt stretched over rippling muscles. His unsmiling face drew the Goth girl into an eye-locked stare. She knew upon her entry that he was her mate; Ned was too sedate and vanilla to fulfill her looming role as the bound dungeon wench. The man took hold of her cuff connecting chain and led her out of the room.

Ned sat alone for more than a moment. It was quiet enough to hear the small sounds: the ticking pendulum clock, the air flow through the ventilation, his own breathing and faint background sounds from nearby rooms. The long pause ended with the opening of the door and the emergence of his date for the evening. The earlier waitress led the woman into the room.

Despite her costume, Ned recognized Lady Amy. He had not known her always as Lady Amy; in a prior life she had been Mrs. Smith, the Housemother of a TWA Senior facility in the Scottish highlands. Eventually, she had wowed and wed a minor Royal peer. But dark habits die hard in a TWA graduate and the British lord was not trained or experienced enough to fully satisfy her ingrained sexual cravings.

Thus, here she was. It was she who had requested and funded this fantasy. And Ned had been selected as the assigned TWA staff coach tutor to fulfill her fetish cravings.

Lady Amy was outfitted for submission. Her garb was the classic plum colored Story of O costume: tit-baring corset top that severely clenched her waist, her pussy flashing above mid-thigh dark hose when the long skirt, with its full length central slit, fluttered open when she walked. Her bare shoulders were covered by a translucent shawl, coyly shrouding her matron-sized boobs, scuffing against her shadowy areolas. Elbow length satin Opera gloves covered her forearms and hands.

She wore velvet wrist cuffs over the gloves. Her eyes were blindfolded with a deep purple satin sash that also banded her hair, exposing the ring embedded leather collar. Her bright purple lipstick, sturdy hooped earrings and amethyst jewelry gave her the look of noble wealth, stolen from her palace by force and soon to be ravaged by the conqueror.

The topless attendant snapped a long silver leash to Lady Amy's collar ring and handed the other end to seated Ned before bowing and exiting the room. Ned was alone with his captive.

Ned waited, watching Lady Amy breathe deeply, considering his next steps. He slowly pulled on the leash, signaling his prize to step closer. He continued to pull as she stopped when her knees touched his, leaning her face in for a kiss. He pressed her shoulders down and she kneeled between his legs. He put her hands on his groin.

She dutifully unfastened his belt, unzipped the fly and helped him remove his pants and shoes. She found him commando and smirked her liking. She stroked his soft penis with her satin gloved fingers, gaining masculine size for her efforts. She parted her full lips and leaned in but Ned stopped her. Tonight would be an extended session; there was no need to hurry.

Rising, he seized her wrists and spun her body, brusquely clipping her restraints behind her back. He took the leash and pulled her from the room through the same door used by the preceding fetish players. It placed them in the central corridor flanked with the fetish scenario rooms.

He stopped Lady Amy in front of the first one-way window. Ned could see the amorous couple in the room and, when he clicked on the small speaker, he could hear the unfolding action as could his blindfolded captive.

The man and his college coed date were seated on a stool. They were kissing and necking like school kids. His pants were around his ankles and her tap pants lay on the floor. While they playfully tongue wrestled, his hands were underneath her loose top, kneading her boobs. She jogged her hips, caressing his erection with her juicy labia.

His hands came from under her clothes and he gripped her bare ass. Standing, he pressed her back against the wall. Kneeling, he pressed his face to her slick pussy lips. The artiste model arched back with open mouth, writhing in his grasp, her girlish squeaky voice directing the action, begging for more.

"Yes... push your tongue harder... run it up the crevice... inside... more to the left...

He rolled his tongue and pushed past the outer lips, tickling the inner rim.

YES... inside... Inside... YES, INSIDE!"

His fingers gripped her ass, digging into her soft flesh, pulling her groin tighter. Her hands held his head as she gazed at the ceiling tiles. Then she saw nothing; her eyes clenched shut and her back arched severely. She was so close.

He stopped, withdrew and stood. An evil grin, wet with pussy juice, was her recovering sight.

"No... Please, don't stop..." she groaned.

But he had his own plans. He ripped off her teddy top, threw her down on the floor, and dropped himself atop her. He charged ahead, neatly spearing her sopping pussy in one masterful stroke.

During the in-room seated action, Ned had reflectively fondled both of Lady Amy's tits beneath her immodest shroud. Then, when the kneeling cunnilingus was at full steam, he dropped one hand to rub the edges of her pussy with his finger pads. Lady Amy heard the girl's pleas, the increasing foreplay within the room, and savored her guide's touch as a tactile compliment to the perceived action.

Ned watched her reflection in the glass window as he held her by boob and cunt from behind. She licked her lips and breathed huffier through her slack open mouth. He gave her erogenous membranes a furious stirring until the interior paramours dropped to the floor. He calmly switched off the speaker and removed his hands. Lady Amy had moaned her pleasure at the quickened activity and now whimpered her discontent, disappointed by the retreat of his fondling fingers. Ned took up her leash and led his aroused captive to the next scene.

They stopped before the second room's viewing window. The stripper model was dancing before her couch borne man. Her moves were slow and sexy, her outfit loosened but not removed. The stripper's guest had his cock out, self-stroking his tumescence.

Ned took up his nipple fondles beneath Lady Amy's cape shroud. He moved behind her and laid his cock knob into her satin covered hands. She took the cue and her long fingers rubbed his crown, tickled his corona, and leisurely stroked his half hard shaft. Ned liked the gentle handling; it felt good.

He watched as the model inside the room worked her lap dance moves, letting the loose costume slide lower and then off her shapely body. She danced closer and her seated man drew her into his lap. She sensuously gyrated into position, twisting her body, flipping her hair and keeping the jaunty dance beat.

The man grabbed her hips and slowed her movements. Carefully, they effected the coupling, despite her writhing boobs and soft thighs rubbing against his expensive clothes. Her moves matched the continued dance beat and her smile never faded. His hands pressed her hips down against his legs but she was not to be tamed.

She rose up and flaunted her boobs in his face; he devoured her bare bouncy tits and bit her nipples when he could capture the jittering points. Those toothy nips fueled her lust. A wet patch was forming in the man's crotch; the suit dampened by her teeming vaginal flow. He looked the type who could afford the dry cleaning bill; and being so wrought up in the moment, he probably didn't care.

He stopped trying to control her bouncing body and simply grabbed her jittering tits. He looked at her face and she planted a hard kiss on his open panting mouth.

Ned still palmed and kneaded Lady Amy's tits as her velvet opera gloves stroked his exposed cock. She winced unseen when his unwitting nipple pinches were a bit too severe. She refrained from audible complaint, playing her role. He was aware of a small fever blushing his face and scalp and the tingling itch in his balls. 'Too soon', he mentally acknowledged. He closed the viewport and led his companion on to the third window.

He opened the blinds and saw that the action was well underway. The Goth model was trussed to a short half frame which held her arms wide as she knelt on her knees. She was tilted forward, weights tied to her nipple rings. She was not blindfolded and her face tracked her tormentor as he walked circles around her bound body, swishing a thin black whip. He had his zipper open; his stiff cock bobbing. She jumped when he flicked her with the light snap. She jumped again when he found a different place to hit. Light or not, she felt the stings as he placed whip licks everywhere on her kneeling form. Her tits jiggled and the nipple weights danced.

He found pleasure in surprise, laughing as he found unexpected spots to tweak. She twisted as best she could to avoid the unavoidable. Her stoic deportment was reduced to crying and cursing, her makeup smudged from the free flowing tears. Her tortured nipples ached.

The man threw away his pain giving toy. He stood at her hanging head, adjusting the frame higher to place her face in a comfortable, at least comfortable for him, position.

Ned anticipated the next move and quickly put Lady Amy on her knees in front of him. He cupped her cheeks, fingers splayed over her ears. He watched and waited. The man inside spoke to his bound slave. She opened her mouth wide as he placed his cock knob on her extended tongue.

Ned matched the man's timing and just as the punishing male pressed inward, Ned plunged deep inside Lady Amy's gullet. She was surprised by its suddenness, hearing both men grunt at the concurrent cock thrust. But she recovered quickly, as she ought. Ned watched the scene in the room as Lady Amy sucked his pistoning shaft.

Ned let the sensations grow but again knew it was still too soon for him to ejaculate. He pulled back from Lady Amy and helped her to her feet. He tarried for a last look inside.

The inside tormenter was not as composed as Ned and, when he pulled out, he sprayed his cum over his Goth victim's face and shoulders. He leaned on the frame to regain his composure. Standing upright, he retrieved the whip and began circling his captive anew. Their first episode of dungeon torment was finished but there were many more to come.

Ned led Lady Amy to the final room, pushed her through the door and guided her to the place prepared for their ultimate intimacy. She was unresisting as he spread her limbs wide on the waiting roughhewn wooden table. He was gentle as he snuggly fastened her down, the wrist and ankle cuffs conveniently repurposed.

He adjusted her face backward on the lowered headrest, aligning her mouth and throat horizontal. His cock pressed her lips and she resumed an inverted version of her earlier oral caresses along his erection. Unable to move in her bound position, Ned took up the beat, stroking well into her throat, dragging his corona completely from tonsils to glossed lips and back again, and again and again. Her exposed breasts were magnets for his hands where he leaned in and braced his body. His hips cycled steadily. He kneaded handfuls of her chest meat. Ned quickly neared his point of no return. He stopped once again, one last time, before reaching it.

Withdrawing his raging hard-on, he adjusted her head to a more typical prone pose. Her mauled tits were blotched from his abuse but their usefulness was not ended yet.

He walked to her aroused lady parts and stood between her legs. His raging cockhead now teased her nether lips. He needed to brace for his impending strokes; he folded forward and captured her breasts once again. He started slowly with a shallow insertion in her juicy flesh, just the knob. He pinched her nipples tightly and felt the reflexive throb in her pussy.

'Nice' he thought.

But this wasn't where he wanted to be right now. He was overwrought by all the foreplay and needed to finish full intercourse with this responsive woman. One more pinch and throb, then a steady press sent him deep into her femininity.

He had to pause. He was already nearly there but needed to get Lady Amy promptly to her peak. One hand remained on a sensitive nipple; the other pinched her clitoris. She careened and jerked in her restraints, emotions and hormones rushing her to the ecstatic crest. They came together, mingling the mutual cries of passion and lust. Ned cycled furiously as he emptied his swollen balls.

Thereafter, a relative silence filled the room. Ned slid out, his penis less stiff and dripping wet from her flowing pussy juices. He removed Lady Amy's blindfold and received her flushed-face smile of recognition.

"Oh, Ned! How wonderful! I didn't know you were town."

She smiled brightly, feeling nostalgia for past liaisons.

"How long has it been? Ten years since my TWA resignation? You were my best coach tutor; the girls raved about your power and knowledge."

Ned accepted her high praise. He remembered the vivacious younger Amy when she was a curious TWA co-ed. He had performed her final evaluation assessment before senior graduation. She had received his only perfect 100 score... ever. She was the youngest woman ever assigned as a Housemother, a singular honor for a stunning example of achievement.

He lovingly released her restraints. She swung her high heeled legs over the side of the table and bounded up into his arms, embracing her fetish fantasy paramour in a boob-crushing kiss.

"Can you stay with me at my country estate? Sir Stephen is on travel again. The place is private; I'll dismiss the staff and we can explore more fantasies."

Ned mused that it would be good to see how much she had blossomed even beyond the excellence she had shown back in school, as a student and then as a Housemother.

"I think I can manage that" he said to a clearly excited Lady Amy.

He would take some time and call it follow-up research to monitor the outcomes of a privileged Total Woman Academy education. His cock was already starting to swell anew at the contemplations of the week that lay ahead.