rules

Julie was naive for an eighteen year old. Her close school friend Fran told Julie about her uncle. He seemed to be very wealthy and lived in Canford Cliffs where the big houses have very high walls and large gardens. Fran told Julie that her uncle’s basement was basically a dungeon and that he had taken her down there a couple of times.



Fran spoke of games which her uncle played and she showed red marks on her wrists where he had handcuffed her. But she said that the real buzz came from the psychological bondage of being subject to someone else’s will and letting him use you as he pleased. Such was Julie’s fascination with these matters that she allowed Fran to play some games with her.



Fran tied Julie up a couple of times and took her knickers down while she was helpless which was scary and felt quite surreal. Being touched by another girl in that way was quite freaky and Julie let Fran spank her with her hand and then with a white leather belt from her wardrobe. Poor Julie actually had red marks across her lovely bum but they faded quite quickly. One Saturday the two of them went shopping and Fran adopted her severe voice and told Julie to go into a narrow alleyway between two shops and take her knickers off. Julie looked at her in horror. They were surrounded by crowds of shoppers and at first Julie thought that Fran was joking but she just stared at Julie with a dead straight face and told her that the faster she moved the less chance there was of discovery.



Julie darted into the alleyway and stopped about half way down. It was completely straight so anyone looking in at either end would have a clear view of everything in the lane. She took a deep breath and shoved her hands up her short skirt.



She nervously pulled her most intimate little garment down as fast as she could then smoothed her skirt and, feeling uncomfortably hot, went back to Fran.



Fran asked Julie where her knickers were.



“In my pocket.”



“I think you should carry them in your hand.”



Julie’s mouth opened to refuse but then she thought better of it and silently withdrew the little wisp of pink cotton. With luck anyone who did happen to see would think it was a handkerchief. Fran was really enjoying herself and she kept leading her sartorially disadvantage victim in and out of shops and then she decided she would like a coffee. They sat at a table outside a coffee shop with Julie feeling very exposed and still holding the little scrunched up pink bundle in her hand.



When the male waiter appeared Fran ordered a coffee and a Danish Pastry.



“My friend won’t have anything.”



Julie really fancied a nice sticky cake but Fran was in charge and Julie experienced an unexpected tingle at the realisation that she was under her friend’s control. By the time she had watched Fran enjoy her snack, which she did very slowly, Julie was really tingling and knew that she would obey whatever humiliating order Fran chose to issue. The bus ride home seemed to last an age; the bus was very crowded and Fran found a seat but told Julie to stand. They went to Julie’s house because they knew that they would have it to themselves. Fran, the mistress, seated herself on the sofa and brusquely ordered Julie to lie across her lap.



Of course Julie obeyed and her skirt rode up exposing bare white cheeks. Fran dragged the skirt right up over Julie’s back and the spanking began. Julie had never been so horny. It was incredible and she was actually grateful to Fran when she ordered her to frig herself on the carpet in front of her mistress.



But Julie knew that they were only playing silly little girl games. What would it be like with a man? Many nights she lay in bed with her slim fingers attending to her urgent need as she imagined Fran’s uncle, whom she had never met, leading her down into his dungeon to an unknown and painful fate.



Part of her mind was telling her that this was nonsense. Playing games with Fran whom she had known for years and could trust was one thing, but to hand herself over to a total stranger in his home and away from any witnesses would be terrifying and stupid. A girl might as well wear a placard saying “Please rape me.”



But that was the whole point. What was at the heart of the delicious sexual thrill was the complete loss of control and the not knowing what he would do. When she played her games with Fran there was a thrill at first but it soon palled. What would it feel like to actually stand at the door to the uncle’s dungeon with his hand on her back pushing her forward? Of course one reads stories about these things but most people never get a chance to actually experience it. And Julie had that chance. It would only take one word to Fran and it would happen.



The debate in her mind raged back and forth but it was only going to end one way. There was only one outcome which would satisfy her terrible all consuming curiosity and she knew that it had to be all or nothing. Fran made it clear that Julie could not go into this with a list of conditions and limits. Uncle would never accept that.



And so there she was that morning standing on a street corner with her little overnight bag over her shoulder. Her parents thought that she was spending a few nights in London with Fran, taking in the sights and the shopping before starting at university. Julie had no idea what Fran’s uncle looked like or even what car he drove but the arrangement was that a car would pull up and she would be shown an Ace of Spades playing card. When she saw that card she would completely obey the bearer. She stood and waited and was really surprised that she felt calm as she scanned every car which approached.



X



For Julie it seemed that things were moving so fast. She had been awed when the long, shiny Daimler had pulled up beside her with the chauffeur holding open the front door and showing her the Ace of Spades. It had never occurred to her that Uncle would not collect her himself.



As soon as she was inside the car, behind the smoked glass windows, the man produced the collar and Julie almost refused to let him put it on her but she could not let herself fail this early on. Fran’s words were running through her head and she knew that she had said she would accept the rule.



“When you see the Ace of Spades you will completely obey the bearer.”



It felt so unnatural to just sit there while he buckled the brown leather dog collar around her neck and she was excruciatingly aware that she was wearing a very brief, strappy red top which showed the flesh of her belly and left very little of her neat breasts to the imagination. That had been Fran’s idea and Julie felt that she had been gift-wrapped for the chauffeur.



When she was collared the car had purred away from the kerb and the driver had told her to sit with her hands by her sides and her knees parted. Traffic was heavy so the car did not go very fast and it spent a lot of time stationery in queues or at traffic lights. The driver used these times to extend his arm and grope her breasts or put his hand up her brief white skirt and stroke or squeeze where she was marshmallow soft and very damp. And Julie could not believe that she sat motionless and just let him do it.



Arriving at the house was quite an experience. They turned into the gateway and the solid wooden gates swung open of their own accord then closed behind them. Julie looked through the rear window very aware that she was now in the lair of the man whom she had never met. Only Fran knew that she was here and she would not be missed for perhaps as long as a week. How much could happen to her in that time? The newscaster’s voice ran through her mind.



“Julie was supposed to be heading for London but there is no evidence that she ever arrived. It seems that she has simply vanished and police have set up a hotline for anyone who thinks they may have seen her.”



Her reverie stopped when the car pulled up on the gravel drive and the driver took a leash from the glove box then came round to her side of the car, opened the door and stooped to clip it to her collar. He did not say a word but his tug on the lead made his command very clear.



Her first glimpse of the man she now had to call “Master” had been unnerving. He was tall and distinguished, probably over sixty years of age with neat grey hair and a grey beard which was immaculately trimmed. His clothing was casual but expensive and well cut and his voice was quiet and obviously well educated. This made his often foul turn of phrase all the more startling.



As she stood in his lounge he walked around her silently appraising her as if she were a second hand car then he began to speak in a voice which seemed to seep into her very soul as if it were hypnotic. He questioned her about her fantasies and her reactions to various stimuli. How often did she masturbate? What did she think about while she was doing it? What had caused her to want to come to him? He wrung from her many more secrets than she would want any human being to know and her replies were becoming ever softer as he regressed her to a frightened little girl who was in a world where she knew nothing of the rules.



After the questions came the rules. He spoke about the practice of submission and the demand for total and instant obedience. There was no mention of a “safe word”; if she needed a get out clause she should not have come. He made it clear that she was his to use; in coming here she had chosen to be in that position. When he picked up a dishcloth he did not consider whether the cloth would prefer to be used in hot or cold water and if he chose to use the cloth to clean the lavatory or the sole of his shoe the cloth did not have a right to object. She must think of herself as just such an implement and if she succeeded in that she would experience the thrill which she had craved since Fran first spoke to her about submission.



When she had been standing to attention for what seemed an age he said that she had now reached the point of choosing. If she so wished he would call his chauffeur to remove her collar and take her home or she could choose to remain and accept all the terms which had been set out for her. If she chose to walk out he would never have her back and the world of submission to him would be forever closed to her.



Julie could not bear the thought of coming this far and then having the door closed on her. She could not accept the sense of failure which that would bring so she said that she would stay. His command came immediately after her reply.



“Strip”.



Somehow she had expected more preamble or ritual. Just a one word order seemed brutal but she had said that she would obey. Removing her top, shoes and skirt was not too difficult even aware as she was of his gimlet eye examining every movement. When she was in just bra and briefs he ordered her to remove the briefs first which felt very unnatural and frightening. She placed the warm scrap of cotton on top of her skirt on the chair beside her and felt extremely vulnerable. Somehow it would have been easier in a bedroom but in this well lit lounge with its picture window over the garden and this man who was older that her father the experience was surreal.



Next her bra had to come off and she was standing with hands by her sides and her eyes staring straight ahead. He had made it clear that her legs had to be apart at all times and she must never cover her breasts. Standing with her legs wide open displaying her most secret part to him was very unnerving. She now wished that she had kept her pubic hair; at least that might have given some cover but she knew that his eyes were taking in every intimate fold of her flesh.



The man had that mysterious gift which people call “presence” and made it unthinkable that she would disobey him or risk his anger. Julie had a feeling that the anger of this man would be truly terrifying.



He pressed a discreet little button on the wall which caused the driver to appear; the man had donned a pair of black combat trousers and a black vest. He was holding two loops of narrow white plastic. Master spoke gently and with a smile.



“The kitchen door is five paces behind you. If you can get in there I won’t let Jones touch you.”



Julie looked over her shoulder then she made a dash for the door. In a split second Jones was beside her and his foot scythed her legs from under her pitching her down on hands and knees. He grabbed her forearms dragging them behind her and causing her to go down onto her belly with her tender nipples pressing into the carpet. She felt the plasti-cuffs slipped around her wrists and he pulled them shut with a rapid zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz sound then he grabbed a hank of her hair pulling her head back so that she felt she was being scalped and she emitted a loud scream of pain.



“On your feet!”



She pulled herself up knowing that if she did not get into a standing position the man would hold her up by her hair. As she stood naked, bound and helpless with tears in her eyes the two men walked around her.



“What do you think of it Jones?”



“On the small side Sir. Tits like a kid.”



Master took a handful of her left breast.



“Probably a nice tight cunt. Is it a virgin cunt Slut?”



“N no Sir.”



The men chuckled and Jones’s hand began to maul between her legs while Master went behind her.



“The bum’s a bit on the fat side. Could probably take a bit of punishment.”



Julie knew that pain was now a certainty. The only questions were how much would they inflict and what was her limit. She suspected that they would not hesitate to take her beyond her limit and yet, for some reason which was beyond her comprehension, it never occurred to her to ask to be allowed to leave. That would be to admit failure.



Jones’s hand was in her hair again tightly against her skull and he dragged her towards the door with Master following and enjoying her whimper of pain. They went through the wide hallway and through a door onto some stone steps which were cold to her bare feet. The basement had a stone floor and was lit by small yellow lights set into the walls. With his hand still gripping her hair Jones dragged her head back so that she was looking at the ceiling and she felt Master’s hand between her legs.



He groped her puffy little lips and began to massage her clitty so that she could not keep from responding. One finger and then two slipped between her moistening lips and began to frig in and out while keeping the pressure on her clit. She could not suppress her loud moans and she knew that her copious juice was betraying her to her abuser. Jones dragged her back against a wall and then released her so that only the pressure from Master kept her upright with her back against the wall and her buttocks jerking up and down involuntarily.



Now Master’s other hand found her left nipple and was mauling the flesh and tweaking the nipple adding cries of pain to her building moans of masochistic pleasure. Her legs were weak and her vision blurred. Julie was totally out of control and her breath came in desperate gasps. She had not even been aware of Master unzipping himself until she felt his erection pressing between her legs and then invading her small opening. He filled her completely in fact his member felt huge and far larger than it could possibly be in reality. His body was pressed against her and forcing her into the wall as he rammed into her again and again while his hands gripped her shoulders with his fingers digging in painfully and his mouth was all over her face.



Master was shouting in triumph as he raped his helpless young victim and she felt that her heart must burst if he did not stop but he kept on and on. It seemed he would never subside. Julie’s experience of masculine performance was not extensive but up until now she had taken it for granted that sex involved varying amounts of buildup then a moment of energetic activity followed by a shout and a flaccid penis on a male body which lay back basking in its own satiation. Burning hot fluid filled her and yet he did not desist and Julie had a sense of time extending infinitely. How could the man possibly keep it up for such a time?



Eventually it did end and he pulled away from her leaving her to slump to the floor in a red, panting little heap covered in semen and sweat.



But Julie was to be allowed no rest. Strong hands reached and caught her under the arms to drag her to her hands and knees and her vision, through the sweat soaked hair straggling over her eyes, was filled by Jones’s black combats. His erect member was on display and pointing towards the ceiling as he advanced upon her.



He gripped her ears forcing her onto himself and she had no choice but to take him in her mouth. Still holding her ears he moved her head back and forth while he shouted orders at her.



“Suck it Bitch. If you keep me hard maybe I won’t thrash you so hard. Keep your mind on your work.”



At the same time she felt the Master’s hands gripping her thighs and keeping her backside raised and then she was struck by terror as she felt hard, hot flesh between her buttocks. She almost fainted as she realised what he was going to do to her. He had found a virgin hole after all. The thought of anal sex revolted her and she was terrified that he would tear her flesh open.



Still her mouth was full of Jones’s meat and she could not avoid her tongue feeling its hardness and its bulk making her gag. She wanted to cry out as, with one thrust, Master rammed into her tight little hole which she had foolishly clamped shut in defence. As he moved in and out of her rear he was making her body bounce up and down and still Jones was in her mouth with his precum mixing with her saliva. And then he came shooting his hot semen right down her throat so that she felt she was choking.



Still the ass fucking continued until Master was satisfied and he threw her to the floor so that Jones’s now subsiding tumescence came from her mouth soaking her face in its oozing.



Julie was curled up on the flagstones with her hands still tightly secured behind her back. Her whole body was convulsing as she whimpered quietly and the cellar stank of semen and sweat, both hers and theirs. She could feel the sticky semen drying on her behind and her face. Some had got into her hair and she felt she would never be clean.



She was vaguely aware of the two men making lewd remarks and jokes at some volume.



“The little whore…..young bitch….filthy cunt can’t get enough..not much of a fuck but she’ll learn.”



Julie was only dimly aware of one of them picking her up and dragging her across the floor then she was thrown like a piece of refuse into a small, cramped space and she heard an iron door clang shut.



Then she was alone in the dim light. She was in a narrow space about five feet long and her feet were against the iron grille. Her mind was floating and she drifted in and out of consciousness as her whole body ached especially her pussy and her anus. And she knew this was not the end. Her tormentors were only resting and probably sharing a drink and more crude jokes about what they were going to do to her.

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