I don’t think I would be able to tell you any of this, dear friend, if it weren’t for the happy fact that I am now back safe and sound with the wonderful Taun. He doesn’t know how I got to the Retreat; he hasn’t yet found out who stole me from his house and took me back there, but I have confidence that he will find out or, at the very least, he will keep me safe now that he knows there is danger.
I had just woken up from a deep, but very troubled sleep. I hadn’t yet even had time to put on my bra and panties that Mr. Kozlov had so generously thrown at me the previous night. I was just starting to slowly, painfully stand up, look around, get my bearings, recover from the disappointment that it wasn’t just a nightmare and accept the reality that I was still at the Retreat.
A man’s voice made me spin around so quickly I almost fell over.
“Are you trying to hide from me?”
When I saw who it was I started to tremble and wished so hard that I could indeed hide from him. I stared into the face of the devil, who looked exactly like Mr. Kozlov.
I started to stutter and promise him that I wasn’t hiding; that I was barely even awake and I was just looking around trying to find my clothes but he interrupted me and reminded me to think carefully before speaking. There is no way I would dare lie to him again! I told him so and thankfully he seemed to believe me this time. He looked me up and down very, very, slowly, in a way that made me so extremely uncomfortable; he was somehow not just seeing my naked body but also tasting my skin and devouring my soul.
He reached out and gently caressed my cheek. I don’t know how I managed not to pull away from his touch. His skin burned mine on contact.
“But I still need to punish you for your lies yesterday. Do you remember what punishment you are going to receive?”
I started to beg and plead with him, saying I was still in pain from last night and asking that he please, please, please not hurt me.
“I am a man of my word, Clara.” As he spoke, his hand slide slowly down my body until he reached my breast. I flinched, sure he was going to hurt my still-sore nipples. But he simply closed his hand on my breast and squeezed gently as he continued speaking, “Now tell me what punishment you are about to receive. Unless of course, you would rather let me chose a harsher correction. I’m sure the third floor can provide some better incentives.”
I started babbling, sobbing as I spoke, “You said you would… take me to the lobby and… make me have ten orgasms… in front of everyone and… they would judge if I really came or not…. but… I won’t be able to cum like that! Please! It’s too much! I can’t! But.. please don’t take me to the third floor, please don’t! I don’t know what happens theres but… I’m too scared… please just…”
And I couldn’t go on. I was – and still am – so very terrified of the third floor of the Retreat. I don’t know what goes on up there, exactly, but from the stories and screams I’ve heard, it is not a nice place. What Mr. Kozlov was threatening to do to me sounded awful, but at least I knew sort of what to expect; if he took me to the third floor then I wouldn’t know what horrors could happen to me.
“You will be punished, but since you told the truth in the end, I will consider some leniency. But first, you will compose yourself and then spread your legs and present that sex for me.”
I tried to concentrate on the fact that I wouldn’t be going to the third floor, and not think about the fact that I now stood naked in front of this horrible, cruel, man, with my legs spread wide and my fingers holding my secret, delicate places open for him to see. Because just standing with my legs open wasn’t enough; he instructed me that I also needed to open myself to him so that he could “inspect” me.
I was looking away, trying not to see Mr. Kozlov, tying not to imagine what I must look like standing in that position, when I heard footsteps approaching. I closed my eyes then. It was a awful standing like that, opening myself to one man’s viewing, but knowing that someone else was nearby made it all so much worse. I just hoped that it was one of the kind ones.
I recognized Mr. Cabot’s voice and I kept my eyes shut tight while the two men cheerfully introduced themselves to each other. They discussed their names, the weather, the menu at the bar. How could they make polite conversation like that, when I was standing there so miserable and scared?
Mr. Kozlov then instructed me to turn and look at Mr. Cabot, and to present myself to him too. He reminded me, yet again (he really seems to get great pleasure from doing so) that my body belonged to the men and that it was for their pleasure and to do with as they please.
Dying inside, I started to do as I was told but as I opened my eyes and saw Mr. Cabot’s face, something inside me just broke.
“You were kind to me yesterday! Please help me! Please don’t let this man hurt me! Please help!” I reached out to him, almost trying to grab at his clothes. He hadn’t really been very nice to me but he had certainly treated me a lot better than Mr. Kozlov had and I was desperate for anyone to help me.
But Mr. Cabot just shrugged and said, “I am sorry, honor amongst Gentlemen and all that. Mr Aslan got to you first, and it up to him what he does to you. I mean, what’s the problem, slut? All he is doing is looking at you and asking you to display things. It’s not like he’s beating the crap out of you.”
He may have said sorry, but his smile told me that he wasn’t apologizing at all.
The men kept me standing like that, outside, for what seemed like hours. Mr. Kozlov made me tell Mr. Cabot in great detail why I deserved the punishment I had earned and what that punishment was going to be. Both men seemed to savor each word that I struggled to utter and the horror that must have been evident on my face as I did so.
Once I had finished speaking the men started to discuss possible ways to help me learn my place here. Mr. Cabot had a whip attached to his belt and they began talking about which of them would whip me, how many times, and where. All I could do was stand there, waiting for them to decide on my fate, knowing I could do nothing to change it. Except maybe to make it worse.
Then the conversation moved on to what each man had done to me so far and what they would like me to do to them. They also wanted to know what sexual experience I had had before coming to the Retreat and since being here. As I answered their personal questions about what should have been my private life, I was regularly reminded to stand up straight, back arched, breasts thrust forward, legs spread wide. Thankfully they didn’t require me to “present” my sex the whole time; I had to interlace my hands behind my head. It wasn’t comfortable and I hated standing there so vulnerable and exposed while they chatted and laughed. But at least they weren’t touching me or hurting me.
But I knew it wouldn’t last. Soon enough they would start touching me and it was going to hurt.
Mr. Kozlov explained to me that I would have to ask nicely for my punishment and, if I begged sweetly enough, he would consider being lenient. He told me that if he and Mr. Cabot were satisfied with my earnest request to be punished then I would earn the right to be punished in private, rather than in the lobby of the house in front of everyone watching.
Can you believe that I didn’t even have to pretend to beg? I actually pleaded, in earnest, for them to punish me! It makes me sick to remember it. But, I knew the men would do whatever they had planned to do and it would be so much easier and not as scary or awful if it were in private, with just them, rather than with other people watching and perhaps joining in too. So I begged for them to punish me.
I was then told to walk into the house. They followed behind me, laughing, chatting, talking about me as though I weren’t there or completely ignoring me and discussing pleasantries as though they weren’t about to do horrible things to the poor girl walking naked in front of them.
I was directed upstairs to the bedroom on the left. I have been in this room many times. It looks almost cozy and pleasant with the huge, comfortable four poster bed dominating the room. But don’t let that fool you. Look around and you’ll see that the other pieces of furniture are eager to remind anyone who walks in what the real purpose of this room is.. and that it has nothing to do with getting a restful night’s sleep.
Once inside this so called bedroom, Mr Kozlov locked the door (which makes a very loud click, reminding me that that I am very much locked into my fate) and pointed to where he wanted me to stand. I had no idea which piece of furniture the men would chose to use or how they would deal out my punishment to me and the men seemed to enjoy my uncertainty and apprehension.
Mr. Kozlov started to look around and asked Mr. Cabot if he knew where to find a camera so they could record the events. I was horrified! It was bad enough that I would have to experience all of this once, but the idea that it could be played back to anyone – or even to me – over and over again, made it so much worse. To my relief, the men couldn’t find a camera but they reassured me that it was more than likely everything was being recorded anyway and they could probably get a copy once they were done. I tried to forget that information.
The men asked me again about my sex life and wanted details. After I had told them more about what I had experienced they decided they wanted to get to know my body better so they would know how to make me cum more quickly and easily. (Well, how considerate of them! Can you see the sarcasm there as it drips from the words I write?) Mr. Kozlov instructed me to go and lie down on the bed and to begin touching myself. While I was mortified at the idea of doing such a thing under their gaze, it was certainly better than them touching me, so I obeyed, albeit slowly and shyly. Then Mr. Kozlov told me that if I didn’t cum in five minutes he would let Mr. Cabot “encourage” me with the whip. Five minutes! I didn’t think I could come at all with them standing over me and watching! And I was sure that they would do anything they could to prevent me from having an orgasm just so they could punish me. Even if I did come in five minutes, they would no doubt decide that something wasn’t right about the way I did it and I would be punished anyway. But at least they weren’t hurting me… yet.
Mr. Cabot suggested that he “help” me by touching my breasts and other parts of my body but thankfully Mr. Kozlov seemed more interested in watching to see what I would do by myself. I saw him studying me, watching my fingers move, looking at my body and my face. It was as though he were conducting a scientific experiment and was only interested in gathering data. As he watched me he spoke to Mr. Cabot, “An excellent idea but let’s see how far she gets by herself first. After all we shouldn’t coddle her too much. Perhaps we can start at the 3 or 4 minute mark.”
Before I had time to protest that they weren’t being fair, Mr. Kozlov turned to me and said, “What are you fantasizing about as you touch yourself, Clara?”
The question threw me off. I hadn’t really been thinking about anything. There was too much going on in front of me in this very room to allow me to drift off into any fantasy world. But I knew he would require an answer and I also realized that if I somehow, miraculously, managed to block these monsters out of my mind I would actually have a chance at having an orgasm.
So I thought for a short while, and with my eyes closed I conjured up a beautiful image in my mind. “I’m thinking that… I’m fantasizing that… it’s not my hand touching me… it’s the hand of… a man who loves me and… who cares for me and… a man who is kind to me and sweet and gentle and who will never hurt me or hit me or do anything cruel or rough or frightening.” I liked the man I was now in bed with, in my imagination. He was wonderful.
I was just starting to relax and feel good when Mr. Kozlov’s voice broke the spell. I knew they wouldn’t let me have a fair chance! “Two minutes. No pressure, Clara.
I made the man in my head punch Mr. Kozlov and Mr. Cabot and knock them out before coming back to touching me lovingly. I imagined him staring into my eyes, his face beautiful and full of love and adoration for me. Oh, it was so good! I sighed and quickened the pace, letting my fingers slip inside just briefly, and when they came out they were coated with my juices and slid along my sensitive labia. I moaned softly.
“What is the vision in your head now, girl? Who do you see yourself with? More energy girl, faster, use both hands, one on the clit, one stuffing more fingers inside your pussy as it moistens!” Mr. Cabot said.
Mr. Kozlov spoke next, “I don’t think she will make the timeline like this. Perhaps a little encouragement is in order, after all.”
I suddenly opened my eyes, slamming my hands down on the bed in frustration. My handsome prince faded away. “Stop talking! Stop distracting me!” I screamed at the two men. “You told me to touch myself and to make myself cum and to think of something nice so I could have an orgasm but you won’t let me!”
“Why don’t you imagine one of us is that nice, kind, handsome gentleman, which I can certainly be with the right girl?” Mr. Cabot said.
Mr. Kozlov was angry. “Such unlady like behavior. One more outburst like that and I will show you the true meaning of pain. You are ungrateful for everything that we have done for you.”
Ungrateful! Was he joking? But then he suddenly pulled out a crop and gave me a sharp reminder that I shouldn’t complain. I cried out, more in surprise and fear than pain, as the crop stung my inner thigh. He hadn’t hit me very hard, but I knew that next time he could make it hurt a lot more.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout! I didn’t mean to be rude! I promise I will try hard to cum. Will you… if I close my eyes again and touch myself… you won’t hit me or touch me, either of you, will you?”
“If you just get on with it, and do what we’ve ordered you to do, I won’t hurt you.” Mr. Cabot’s voice was almost soft and gentle.
I looked at Mr. Kozlov, waiting for him to speak. But he just stared at me, watching me, studying me. It was unnerving. I could tell he had no intention of reassuring me that I was safe. I realized that even if he had told me I wouldn’t be harmed, there was no guarantee that the men would keep their word. So I closed my eyes and conjured up my Prince Charming again. He smiled kindly at me and whispered in my ear that he would protect me from these awful men; that he loves me and I would be safe there with him. He would make me feel so good. I could relax with him.
I vaguely heard the two men counting down. I knew I was very unlikely to have an orgasm before they got to zero but I didn’t care. My Prince was with me; he was smiling at me and his beautiful face glowed with happiness and his eyes shone with love. “I will protect you from these awful monsters. I will get to you first. They cannot hurt you. I will be inside you so they cannot be. I will be gentle. I will be kind. You will enjoy it. If you don’t, just ask me to stop and I will.” My head rolled to one side and my hand moved a little faster. I was so close…
“Time’s up. Fingers away from that cunt. Did you cum?”
I didn’t hear Mr. Kozlov at first but the Prince Charming in my mind heard him and leaned over to kiss me gently on the forehead. “Sorry sweetheart, I have to go. I will be back. I love you.”
I opened my eyes, almost expecting to see my Prince walking towards the door. I was dismayed that my dream had been broken and I had been robbed of the orgasm I was so close to feeling. I begged the two men, “No! Please…. I was close… please let me have more time…. I was so very close….”
But the men weren’t interested. Of course they didn’t want me to experience any pleasure.
I was dragged off the bed and over to a small bench. Before I could even try and struggle or protest the two men had tied me to the bench so that I was lying on my tummy with my hands and feet immobilized and my head facing forwards. I listened as they discussed who was going to try out my mouth first. It was decided that Mr. Cabot would go first because he would be leaving soon.
Mr. Kozlov tested the ropes to make sure I couldn’t move and then he knelt down in front of my face. He reached out and stocked my cheek softly. I hate it when he does that. He always says something cruel or mean or frightening when he touches me gently. It’s scary and confusing. “No teeth. If Jethro feels even the slightest touch, you will regret it.” The look in his eyes told me that I would definitely regret it.
Mr. Cabot added, “If you bite, it will be ten lashes of my whip for the pain and I tell Mr Negulesco about it and the way you kicked my balls before.” He was lying again. I had never kicked him anywhere. Although I would love to kick both men in the balls, so hard, that they wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again. I wouldn’t dare, of course, but the image of the men writhing on the floor in pain made me feel a little happier, just for a moment.
I nodded that I would behave and opened my mouth. Mr. Cabot lost no time in pulling out his dick and slipping it into my mouth. The men started to laugh about how girls loved to suck on lollipops and they told me to show them how well I had been trained in pleasing men. They warned that I had better be good because they wouldn’t leave until they were both completely satisfied. I tried desperately to remember the advice and lessons I had received from Mr. Negulesco. As I did so, I was surprised to realize that I was actually imagining that it was Mr. Negulesco’s body I had my lips around and it was his cock that I was tasting. I was even more surprised when I found that this image was actually pleasing to me and I started to feel good. Was it my almost-orgasm from earlier? Was it because right then I didn’t care who I was with, as long as it wasn’t the two men who were really here and who terrified me so much?
As I moved my head back and forth and my tongue slid along his shaft, I could feel him; I could taste him. His scent was so masculine. I liked it. Masculine meant strong, protecting, caring. I felt the warmth of his skin and the firmness of his cock in my mouth and it somehow didn’t frighten me. I let my lips and tongue play up and down, tasting, touching, licking, dancing. I heard a man moan and so I sucked a little harder as I drew my head back slightly. I wanted to use my hands but they were tied.
I didn’t have too long to wonder at why I was suddenly happy to fantasize about giving Mr. Negulesco a blowjob. I was told to open my eyes and look up at Mr. Cabot. I should have guessed that the men wouldn’t allow me to zone out. They wanted to make sure it wasn’t just my body they were using; they wanted to rape my mind as well. I obeyed, and stared up at Mr. Cabot, wondering what my face must look like with my lips open wide and sucking on his cock.
I continued to look up at him as the two men discussed where Mr. Cabot should come. They discussed the pros and cons of coming all over my face versus coming in my mouth. I tried to keep looking up, as instructed, but it was so hard to listen to them to about me like that. I had no say whatsoever in what they were going to do to me. Every now and then they looked at me and smiled, but it was a cruel smile. I think they were looking to see which I would hate the most. I am pretty sure that’s what Mr. Kozlov was doing, anyway. He seems to be able to read me, to study me, and then to adapt what he does to make it the worst and scariest thing possible.
It was decided that Mr. Cabot would come in my mouth and I would, not surprisingly, be punished if I didn’t swallow every drop. I didn’t mind too much. At least I wouldn’t be covered with the sticky stuff.
Mr. Cabot came with a loud grunt and my mouth was filled with salty warmth. I quickly swallowed and licked my lips and his skin, making sure I got everything. I knew it wouldn’t take much for them to decide that I had failed and would need to be punished.
“Very good, Clara, that was extremely pleasing, I do hope you enjoyed it too?”
What a stupid question! But I smiled as genuine a fake smile as I could and replied sweetly, “Yes, it was good. Thank you.” I just hoped that what I had said would count as a lie in Mr. Kozlov’s eyes.
Mr. Cabot said goodbye to Mr. Kozlov and they exchanged a few more pleasantries before Mr. Cabot left. He didn’t think to say goodbye to me.
Mr. Kozlov then turned to me. He made no move to untie me. Would he want me to give him a blowjob too? What would he do to me now? I looked up at him, waiting.
“Some Gentlemen require you to hold their cum in your mouth and only swallow when they give you permission. You may want to find out what each Gentleman’s preference is in the future.”
My blood ran cold. Had I messed up? Would he punish me for doing exactly what I had been told to do? Probably.
“I just thought he said, or you said, to swallow it all… I’m sorry, please don’t say I didn’t make a mistake… I thought I was doing what I was told to do…” I knew nothing I could say would change his mind, but I couldn’t help trying to defend myself. But thankfully, this time, I didn’t need to.
“No, that was just another tip. Typically, if a Gentlemen expects you to hold his gift in your mouth, he will tell you ahead of time.”
Mr. Kozlov stroked my face and hair as he spoke. I knew he would say something bad next.
“But where were we…? Ah, yes, punishment! Ten orgasms. And, how many have you accomplished?
I looked up at him, fear in my eyes. After all this he was still going to punish me? None of what had just happened counted towards that?
“But… please… I tried to cum and you wouldn’t let me! I was so close but you stopped me! I pleased Mr. Cabot, I did as you told me to do! Won’t you please let me go now?” Tears filled my eyes as I spoke. How long would he keep me here? I knew from last night that he could toy with me for hours.
“Are you asking me to delay your punishment once again?” Mr. Kozlov stared at me with ice in his eyes. “And are you saying that it is my fault that you didn’t cum?”
I panicked. “No! I mean… I just thought… please… no… I don’t want you to delay it… if asking you that makes you angry… that’s not what I’m saying….”
I had no idea what to say to make things better. I could never seem to say or do the right thing no matter how hard I tried. And I think he enjoyed that very much.
“I’m not angry. I am only here to help you. Don’t you realize that? Your actions just seem very ungrateful. Do you want me to delay your punishment? If you do, ask me nicely, and I will consider it.”
That must surely be a trick question. How was I supposed to respond?
“If I ask you to delay it, will you do something worse to me?”
Mr. Kozlov chuckled. “So untrusting. It is clear that we need more work on your training. You have to get more sexual experience and learn how obtain orgasms before we can implement that punishment. So I shall delay the punishment.”
I couldn’t believe it! He was really not going to punish me? I thanked him over and over and then waited but he didn’t untie me. He just stood there, looking at me. He appeared to be thinking. After a short while I asked in a very soft voice if he would please untie me because the ropes were digging into my skin and it was very uncomfortable.
“Untie you? No. I will just reposition you. It’s time for me to explore that body and teach you some lessons.”
He then started to move me around with such skill that at first I wasn’t sure what was where. My voice trembled as I spoke. “What will you do?” I was now lying on my back with my legs spread wide open. I couldn’t move.
“Why I’m going to teach you more skills.” He began to touch my legs, working his way up and up as he spoke. “A useful skill is to learn how to eat pussy. Have you ever had this done to you? Or have you had to do it to another girl?”
“There are lots of girls here and I’ve chatted to some and made some friends but we’ve never… done that… no…”
“Well, sometimes when I am training a girl, I will have her bound, spread, maybe even similar to how you are positioned. And then I will take out my crop and use it on the girl’s body. But in the meantime, I’ll have another girl between her legs and instruct her to use her tongue. The rules are simple, if the girl can get the bound girl to cum, she is released. If the bound girl doesn’t cum, then the other girl gets punished. So learning how to give good cunnilingus is an important and pleasurable skill. Why don’t you ask me nicely to lick and suck that tight little slut hole. Tell me how much you want it; how much you need it.”
I shivered at his words and tried desperately not to imagine the scenario he was describing. Had he really done this? It’s so cruel! Maybe I was lucky that Mr. Kozlov was simply a visitor at the Retreat and that I wasn’t going to be regularly trained by him.
I tried my best to ask him for what I absolutely did not want. “Please…lick me.. between my legs… I really want you to… do that… I need… you to do that… please… lick me….” I had to close my eyes. I was trying to erase the words as I spoke them.
“Clara, you really need to use proper language when making a request. ‘Please suck my cunt’, ‘please lick my clit’, ‘please make me cum by sucking my fuckhole’ are all appropriate. Why don’t you try again?”
I hated those words! I stared at him, my eyes pleading. “But I don’t use words like that… I’m not used to talking like that…”
“Don’t refuse the Gentlemen. Especially over such an easy request. You are here to serve. Remember that.” As he spoke he suddenly raised his hand and slapped me, right between the legs. I cried out. It hurt a lot.
“I’m sorry, I will try… please… lick my… clit and… please… make me cum by… licking and sucking my… um… hole…”
“We will have to work on that.” His hand had reached between my legs and he started to touch me. He didn’t hurt me, but I hated that he was touching me there. I tried so hard to push his hand away with sheer will power. “Many men enjoy ‘dirty talk’, especially coming from the mouth of such pretty, innocent looking girls such as yourself. Always provide details, and adjectives about yourself. ‘I’m a dirty little slut who can’t stop thinking about you sucking on my little pink fuckhole.’ And then describe what you want to do to them and have done to you, how it makes you feel, and how much you want it. And you need to use the proper vocabulary too. Slut, fuck, cunt, pussy. None of those dainty terms you keep using.”
I promised him I would try and use the words he wanted. He smiled and leaned down, crouching in front of me. He put his face very close to my labia and blew gently. (He may force me to use words like pussy when I talk to him but that doesn’t mean I have to use them in my diary! I won’t talk like that; it’s not me and he can’t change who I am. He can’t. No man here at the Retreat will change me. I refuse to let that happen.) His breath on my skin felt nice. I didn’t want it to feel nice. He instructed me again to tell him what I wanted him to do.
I tried to concentrate on my words but his fingers were touching me more now. He was playing with my body, rubbing and stroking me between the legs, caressing my skin. I had been trying hard to relax and feel good earlier, when I had been told to touch myself, but now something this horrible man was doing almost absentmindedly was starting to arouse me without my even wanting it to happen. He was too skilled and I hated that about him, along with the very long list of other things I hated about him.
“I want… I want you to… I want you to touch my… my… clit and to lick me… my…. and to suck my… until I cum… oh.. I can’t say all those words I’m sorry I don’t know what to say… please… touch my… cunt.” I had to force the words out of my mouth with all my strength but I managed it.
Mr. Kozlov smiled and seemed satisfied for now. “We’ll also have to work on that.. But I see this pretty pussy is responding so nicely. The first thing in cunnilingus is making making sure the girl is relaxed. You can’t get any where without that. So, Clara, are you relaxed?”
“I am… not very relaxed… yet… I will try and relax more… but… your fingers… it’s difficult to relax but… I will try…. ”
“Well I thought so. But don’t worry, I have just the thing to help you relax. I too am full of tension.”
I watched him, afraid to even breath, terrified that he would do something to hurt me. I was almost relieved when he undid his pants and I realized that he was simply going to take me. I hated the thought of him being inside me, using me, feeling me, being with me. I didn’t want that with him. But at least it wouldn’t hurt. He had made sure his ride would be a very smooth one.
“This will help.” He announced as he slid into me in one thrust. “Nothing like a good fucking to release all that stress.”
I very much doubted that anything he could do – except maybe leave me alone – would help relieve my stress. But I was dismayed to discover that it actually felt quite good. I hated that. At that moment I almost wished he had decided to hurt me instead of having me. But my eyes closed and I sighed. I was exhausted and if my body wanted to enjoy this, then I was going to let it. With my eyes closed, and my body beginning to relax, images of my Prince started to float back into my head. He was making love to me, and if felt so good.
But of course Mr. Kozlov didn’t want me to enjoy it.
“Clara, Clara, Clara! You have to be a better fuck. Don’t lie there like a ‘dead’ fish! Squeeze those cunt muscles, thrust those hips, make some noises. You need to at least pretend that you are enjoying it. Also, many men like to have some feedback, so tell them how they are ‘so big’, how you can’t stand it, how they are ripping you apart. I suppose this is the one time where some white lies can be forgiven. But don’t just lie there imagining that your prince is making sweet love to you, because that will never happen here in the Retreat.” As he spoke he began to slam into me hard, ramming me with his length, enjoying his words and the horrified look on my face.
I couldn’t help myself. I was angry now. He had made my Prince disappear yet again.
I started shouting at him. “I’m tied up! How do you expect me to move? And if you want me to enjoy it you have to be nice to me! You are raping me. How am I supposed to enjoy it? You want me to give you compliments about how big you are when I don’t even want you inside me! Get out! Get out of me! Leave me alone! I don’t want you anywhere near me! I hate you!”
I began sobbing, the emotion pouring out of me with the words. I wasn’t even scared that he would get angry or punish me for my outburst. I furious and I glared at him through my tears.
He just laughed. “Well not quite the good fuck I meant. But some men do like raping pretty girls.” And then, as he continued to thrust into me over and over again, he leaned down and grabbed my breasts with his hands. He squeezed hard and then took each nipple between his fingers and pinched until I started screaming. Then he continued, timing his thrusts into me with the pinching and twisting of my nipples until I thought I would pass out from the pain.
I screamed and screamed and begged for him to stop. At that moment I would have done anything, said anything, promised anything, to make him stop torturing me.
As quickly as his cruel movements had started, they changed. His hand was now soft and gentle on my breasts and his body slid in and out of me slowly, rhythmically. His voice was almost cooing. “This isn’t about you; this is about me. When will you learn that you need to please the Gentlemen? The faster they cum the quicker it is over. But I see you want to make it last. I like that.”
I whimpered and looked up at him through my tears. My breasts felt as though there were on fire. I was scared. He had stopped hurting me but now he was being nice to me. It seems that with Mr. Kozlov, he is either doing something terrifyingly painful or he is going to do that next.
Without warning, he slammed into me as hard as before and slapped my breasts with his hand. I cried out and my reaction seemed to please him because he continued pounding and slapping me. It hurt so badly.
In-between the slaps he spoke to me, and I had to try and listen to his words but all I could think of was when and where the next strike would be. “Now.. let’s go back to those lessons. Squeeze my cock with that cunt.”
Somehow I managed to comply.
“Good girl. Men like it when you squeeze their cock, it provides extra friction, extra sensation. The trick is to time your squeezes, so you can milk them, send them over the top. After you master getting wet, that is the next needed skill if you want to have a chance of keeping this pretty body.”
I wasn’t allowed to ponder for long on what he meant by that. He slid out of me and then continued talking, smiling at me, enjoying my pain.
“Okay, now we are all relaxed – well at least I am – we can move on. So, the first thing about cunnilingus is to take your time, and don’t make a beeline for the clit. You have to work your way up there. So why don’t you ask me nicely to suck your pussy and request how you want me to lick that wet slit, how you want my tongue to slide into to you, tease you, lick you, bite you and that after you are all nice and wet, then and only then, you would you like me to play with that clit.”
I hated this man with everything that I had, every part of me, every breath.
Tears poured down my cheeks as I spoke. “Please… suck my… pussy… and… lick me… lick my… slit and my hole and… until I am… wet and… please play with my clit when I am very wet… please….” I could’t go on.
“My, my, what a dirty little whore! Asking me to lick my own cum from that cum bucket. The things I do for your education.”
I died inside as he stood in front of me, looking at my body, staring at my openness.
Mr. Kozlov then crouched down in front of me and told me that he wasn’t going to stop until I had cum. I didn’t want to cum! I hated the idea that this awful man who I despised would be licking and tasting me and that he had already been inside me. But I knew I wouldn’t cum and I was too exhausted to even worry about what he would do when he realized that it wasn’t going to happen.
But… oh my dear friend, I can’t bear to tell you this! Even after all that I have shared with you already, this part seems someone worse. It was awful! It started to feel good.
Mr. Kozlov licked and teased me, his tongue made little circles around and around and my body started to feel so good. Then he slid a finger – or maybe it was two – inside me and he moved it slowly and gently. Nothing hurt. It all felt too good. He started to flick his tongue faster and faster and I could hear myself moan. I didn’t want him to make me cum! I didn’t want to share that with him; to let him see me like that.
“Cum for me.” He ordered.
“No… please… I don’t want to cum with you… please.. don’t make me cum…. please don’t…. I… oh… No!”
I knew I was going to cum on his tongue. I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if he kept doing what he was doing. And he had every intention of continuing to do exactly what he was doing.
I tried to pull away from his tongue, tried to think of his hands slapping my breasts and pinching my nipples. But my mind and body wouldn’t listen to me; they only wanted what this monster was doing with his fingers and his tongue.
I felt my hips buck and I cried out as the orgasm hit me, unbidden, unwanted, and so incredibly powerful. It felt amazing.
To my dismay I was pushing my body against him now, desperate for his touch, trying to feel his tongue on me as the waves continued to crash over me. But he stood up and said, “You still have a lot to learn.”
I had no idea if he was angry with me or if I had done something wrong. He had told me to orgasm, hadn’t he? I searched his eyes for clues but found none.
“What do you mean?”
“Before we can get to your punishment you have to learn how to orgasm in many more ways.” As he spoke, Mr. Kozlov untied the ropes that had been holding me to the bench. I rolled off it, unable to hold myself there, and slumped to the floor. “But, don’t worry, I’m sure the many Gentlemen of the Retreat will be happy to teach you.”
He grinned at me and then walked out the room, leaving the door open behind him and me in a pile on the floor. I stared after him. So my punishment hadn’t even begun? Everything that had happened today didn’t count? He was still intending on punishing me next time?
I didn’t even care at that moment. I was more upset and shocked by what he’d just done to me. I had cum on his tongue! How could he have made me do that? He forced me to beg him to lick me and then he forced my body to orgasm.
He cannot have such control over me.
He must not.
But he does.
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