Tue. Aug 9th, 2022

Dear readers, this is the bare arsed plot. To save you wading through pages of tedious exposition till you get to the smut, you get a brief set up below then it’s straight into the BDSM…

The Set Up

Conan Steel is the cruel but brilliant twenty something millionaire CEO of a soft furnishings company in Rochdale. He acquires a young intern, the beautiful and headstrong Alexandra Rasputin, the daughter of Russian émigrés. Steel is intrigued by her ethereal nature and confession that she is a virgin. In turn, Rasputin is both attracted and frightened by the handsome big swinging dick with a capricious and sadistic temperament, and fascinated by the small clues he gives to his tormented upbringing, such as his father forcing him to attend Stockport County home matches in the late 1990s. Upon learning she is auctioning her hymen on E-bay, and fuelled by longing and jealousy, Steel psychologically and financially coerces her into signing a non-disclosure deal guaranteeing him first crack at her cherry and then exclusive sexual access until she runs to fat. She must also be his submissive willing to explore her most extreme desires and enter the twilight world of BDSM (Christmas and bank holidays excepted). Rasputin is at first appalled by his perversions, which include an insatiable appetite for bondage, sado-masochism, water sports and Top Gear re-runs, but as she becomes more sexually confident she begins to be addicted emotionally and physically to the marathon BDSM sessions conducted in ‘The Rumpo Room’. As the sessions progress, Steel gradually reveals more of his tortured psyche, allowing Rasputin to see the vulnerable little boy within his corporate warrior carapace and understand his dark desires. It is at the end of one of these sessions, as Rasputin tenderly removes a strap on from his anus, that their eyes lock like laser beams and they realise that this is more than an erotic business arrangement this is now a love affair…Driving home to his luxury duplex apartment in Oldham, and taking extra care to avoid the speed bumps, Steel texts Rasputin saying they must never see each other again for he can never dare to love…now dear reader enjoy some fragments from the love affair of this century…

The Steel Cock Is Her Destiny

Steel is in his office taking an important call from his transatlantic trading partner Torn Rip, whose thriving business empire is located over a hardware shop in Wisconsin. Alexandra enters holding a silver tea tray with his elevenses, a pot of tea and a packet of chocolate digestives. She is trembling, having in her short time as an intern come to feel a curious mixture of love, hate and desire towards Steel. He is rich, cultivated and handsome, with exquisitely chiseled features and a lion like mane of blonde hair. Conan feels a stirring in his nether, his cock a titanium springed sex cobra. He can smell her wet pussy from ten feet. The Rasputin girl is a particularly enticing morsel, with her lustrous long black hair, her fulsome luscious red lips, deliciously pert hard nippled tits and seemingly endless slender long legs. She is wearing a low cut white blouse, a black pencil skirt and killer heels. Torn’s voice echoes through the intercom.

“Goddamn sack of country shit!”

The line falls dead. Conan fixes Alexandra with his cobalt blue eyes and she feels her knees weaken under the ferocity of his glare. His gaze is magnetic and burning, fused with erotic desire and hinting at the demons that wrestle inside his tortured soul. She feels like one of the ants her brother used to scorch by refracting the sun through a magnifying glass on the scurrying insects during the summer holidays. Looking deep into Alexandra’s brown doe eyes that convey vulnerability like a kitten left out in the rain and an unlocked, ferocious sexuality, Steel is torn apart inside by conflicting desires; should he love and nurture this beautiful child woman or just find a flimsy pretext to slip her some Rohypnol and get her attached to the Titty Twister machine in The Rumpo Room? Conan is so lost in rapture Alexandra suspects he is stricken by Bell’s palsy. Suddenly he leaps from behind his desk and rips off his shirt and trousers. He stands, tall and commanding, in his boxer shorts and black socks. Alexandra gasps at his finely toned body, not an ounce of fat and muscular with an abdominal rack you could grate cheese on.

“You are so freakin’ hot!” shrieks Alexandra. Steel is puzzled by her American accent as she has spent her formative years in Widnes.

“Alexandra.” purrs Steel like a mongoose toying with a boa constrictor, “This is your destiny!”

He drops his boxer shorts and his magnificent unfettered manhood, a member of awesome length and girth, fires upwards like a clown sprung from a circus canon.

Alexandra shrieks. The uncoiled tool has dislodged the silver tea tray from her gasp, the pot of tea scorching her breasts as it begins its journey to the floor. Steel’s eyes turn round in their sockets like rolling marbles as he surveys the wet blouse clinging to her erect nipples. He emits a low animalistic growl through pursed lips, places his left hand on his right bicep and raises a defiant fist. Maybe, Alexandra thinks, this is a mating ritual sign gleaned from his gap year spent in the Congo. Steel presses her tight against him and squeezes her buttocks, “Tonight Alexandra I shall take your most cherished possession, your virginity, and I shall introduce to a world of carnal delights both tender and cruel.”

The Morning After

Alexandra is lying in the king-size bed in a dreamlike state. Did she imagine last night? His tender caresses, the way he smothered her with kisses and held her tight in his strong unyielding grip before administering his monstrous length with the utmost delicacy. How it hurt so much when he deflowered her and how over the next half dozen times they made love through the night the pain lessened and the pleasure became increasingly dizzying as she writhed on his body and pounded his flesh sword of love with her sex plunger. She had detonated with multiple orgasms on his cock, quivering and squealing to the extent at one point he enquired if she was on medication for epilepsy. They made love in almost every position advertised in the battered copy of the Karma Sutra he possessed. He had tongued and fingered her pussy so she gently she sprayed his face with cunt juice and later she took his sex in her mouth and tasted his ejaculate, becoming totally overwhelmed by the sensory overload. It had been a memorable night for Steel also; he had gathered together the bloody bed sheets that evidenced the taking of her virginity. She had seen what lay beneath the sardonic and dismissive demeanor he normally displayed, a caring and loving but slightly damaged man. Steel enters the bedroom bearing a tray carrying orange juice, fresh croissants and a vase with a red rose in it. He is wearing a black t-shirt emblazoned with the words ‘Pound the Mound’ in white lettering and a depiction of a clenched fist underneath the banner. Steel places the tray on the bedside table and steps back to admire her. Out of his pocket he takes a morning after pill and an address card for the nearest STD clinic. Alexandra is naked and supine on top of the satin bed sheets, her left leg flat against the mattress and fully extended while her right leg is raised in the air and bent at the knee. The pose neatly parts her pussy lips, and he salivates at the sight of her musky sex swamp.

“You cock tease,” hisses Conan.

Alexandra explains she is working out cramp. Soon they are merged together in sexual congress, entering a world of corporeal ecstasy. She ignites on his cock, delirious with orgasmic pleasure. Steel violently discharges soon after with anguished intensity. In a rare display of contrition he apologises and opens a window.

To be continued…

By Tommy

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