Parisian Dreams Pt. 02

This is the second and concluding part of a story concerning the kidnapping and training of Sharon Adams, a beautiful, twenty-something secretary whose attempt to travel to Paris has been interrupted.

*****

According to the Mistress, as she prepared Sharon for the evening's gala was to remember that she was first and foremost a slave whose sole reason for being was to bring pleasure to her master. Tonight her master would be one of the organization's employees who was being rewarded for excellent service. She was to obey him or anybody he might designate. With that, Sharon descended the staircase.

She could not have looked more demure. With her bowed head, self-conscious gait and white trousseau she looked every bit the virgin bride. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she was met by a young, good liking man dressed in a tuxedo. "Good evening, slave-wife," he said with a familiar French accent.

Sharon recognized both the accent and the voice. It was Jean, if that was his real name. It didn't matter. "Good evening, Master husband," she replied without looking up.

"Slave, are you ready for your instructions?"

"Yes, Master, I am."

"Tonight is the Employees' Ball. This evening you are here for my use and my use only unless I say otherwise. Turn, and let me see you. Sharon slowly rotated, eyes lowered until she had completed a 360 degree circle and stopped. "Put this on, slave," said the guard as he handed her a white leather collar and attached a leash to the metal "D-ring." "Let's take a walk around. You may lift your head up. I want all of the men in this room to envy me before we adjourn to the honeymoon suite."

Jean, who was tall and good-looking in his tuxedo, led his "bride" through the room. There were over a dozen of his partners in crime, each with a young girl and all in one costume or another. Robin Hood had Maid Marian tethered by the hands. There was a cowboy with an Indian squaw roped as if she had been lassoed like a wild horse and a sultan with a harem girl being led by a leash connected to rings in her nipples. In the corner a man dressed as an English schoolmaster was caning a petite blonde "schoolgirl" who had apparently broken some school rule. She was very young, no more than twenty and her tiny stature and make-up made her look all of sixteen. Her plaid skirt had been raised to her waist and she was counting out the strokes. "Eight, nine, ten" she recited and then the caning stopped. Both of her buttocks displayed the red record of her punishment- ten hard lashes. She neither whimpered nor complained, but remained motionless, awaiting further instructions from her disciplinarian.

Sharon's "husband" enjoyed a second glass of champagne as he looked at his young bride. He had allowed her to have her own glass of champagne. She was also permitted to raise her gaze. One look at her escort and her suspicions were instantly confirmed. It was Jean, the man she had met at her phony job interview, the man who had stolen her life and her dreams and substituted this awful alternative in its place. Dressed formally, his outfit completed the illusion and this night would be all about illusion, if only for half the people in the room. For the other half it was all about reality, their horrific, new reality as slaves.

Sharon set down her champagne flute as she felt a gentle tug on her leash. "Yes, Master-husband," she said.

"I think it's time we consummated our marriage, slave. Come upstairs to the honeymoon suite," he said as he chuckled to himself.

"Yes, Master," said Sharon as she lowered her eyes and followed the vector of the leash obediently. She hiked her satin robe just enough to avoid tripping in her high heels and began to ascend the stairway. Just before they reached the top the leash went slack, a signal to stop. Below her, the gala had moved into higher gear and her "husband" wanted to watch the party for a while before retiring for the night.

The Indian maiden had been expertly roped and tied. Her buckskin top had been unbuttoned to the waist and the lariat was now wrapped above and below her naked breasts forcing them to extend with her dark, pointy nipples sticking straight out. Her arms were trapped at her side. The cowboy was busy kneading both breasts and pinching her nipples with eager hands.

The recalcitrant school girl was sitting, albeit gingerly, in the schoolmaster's lap with the cane held firmly between her gritted teeth. Had Sharon not been over half way up the staircase, closer examination would have revealed that the schoolmaster's hand was well up her skirt massaging her vagina. Sharon could tell from the look on the girl's face that her ordeal was not entirely unpleasant for her, but then again, Sharon knew that part of their training was to "please the Master" in all things. If the schoolmaster wanted her to enjoy it, then she would, or face severe discipline.

Maid Marian was kneeling, arms still bound, directly in front of Robin. Her full red lips were wrapped around Robin's shaft, which, based on size alone, should have belonged to Little John instead. Robin of Sherwood's cock was both long and thick. Maid Marian was having difficulty taking it in and she knew that nothing less than the entire length would be acceptable to the leader of the "Merry Men" or any of the men in the room for that matter. He moved his hands behind the kneeling beauty's braided long brown tresses to assist her as she bobbed back and forth on Robin's cock. On one of the return strokes he pulled his hands towards his body forcing his huge cock fully into her throat. Marian bucked and gagged, but remained impaled on the shaft of the archer. After a short while she was allowed to remove his cock entirely and to rest for a few seconds.

"Thank you Master Robin," she said before once again loading his cock into her open mouth. This time she managed to push her lips all the way to his scrotum. The "Prince of Thieves" resumed where he'd left off.

Feeling the tug of the leash, Sharon resumed the climb and followed her tuxedoed Master-husband into one of the rooms along the long corridor. He closed the door behind them and drew Sharon close in the sort of embrace that would befit a newlywed who was about to bed his bride. It was almost tender and Sharon felt herself responding to his gentle kindness. She pressed her hips into his as a willing bride might do to her husband. The guard spoke. "Slave, I was given first choice among you and your fellow slaves. I also chose this scenario. I am now going to give you a new set of instructions. Pay attention."

Yes, Master-husband," she replied, head now bowed to show respect.

"Part of your training is to anticipate the needs of your master, to be observant always so that you may anticipate those needs. I'm going to make it easy because I'm going to tell you what I want. I chose this wedding theme and from this moment on you will behave as if we are truly newlyweds. You may talk freely without fear of punishment, provided that you do it in character. Be attentive. If I begin to change direction then you must do your best to follow me, but always in character. I will call you by your real name, but only inside these four walls. You may call me Jean or simply 'husband' or some other appropriate term of endearment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, husband," said Sharon looking him directly in the eyes.

"No," replied the smiling man in the tuxedo. "That's 'Yes, Darling'."

"Yes, Darling," said the bride as she raised her lips to bestow a lover's kiss on her 'husband.' Her kiss was returned in kind. Jean went over to a low chest of drawers and took a bottle of champagne and two long stemmed chilled glasses from the champagne bucket.

"More champagne, Dear?" he asked.

"Why thank you," Sharon replied. Her "husband" filled two glasses and then moved to the bed where he sat and patted the firm mattress indicating that she should sit by his side. She did and took her glass and raised it while saying "To us, husband, and to our magical night of love." Their glasses clinked.

"Sharon, I have been waiting for this night since the first time I laid eyes on you," said Jean, who in a way was actually telling the truth. Sharon had caught his eye the day she first arrived in Manhattan for her bogus job interview. Her long auburn hair, now curled and piled high on her head, had been the first thing he noticed about her. At the facility he had been assigned to another of the girls, the petite blonde with the sore bottom who was downstairs on the schoolmaster's lap. He had taken her every way imaginable during the training. There was a certain attraction to her small frame and smallish chest. It was what made her the perfect school girl fantasy, but the woman who sat next to him on the king-sized bed was another thing altogether.

Her time in captivity and training had taken a young, naïve girl and transformed her into an obedient statuesque beauty. Both her face and her figure had become leaner, almost chiseled as if a sculptor had taken a hand in their design. Sharon's soft white robe hugged her figure, advertising her curves and other delights hidden beneath its delicate satin folds. She had been trained to use her femininity solely for the pleasure of a master and that training had now become second nature. The delicate way she crossed he legs, the way she held her shoulders back to press her erect nipples against the inside of her robe, and the way she turned her head just so- all of these enticements now came naturally to her, as if she had been designed from scratch and destined to develop into a thing whose purpose in life was to provide pleasure and obedience. Tonight she would do both. It was a certainty.

"Stand up and turn around for me," Jean said. Wordlessly she complied, turning a bit then stopping. The satin robe followed and then neatly wrapped itself around her hips before once again hanging straight. Another stop and start and Sharon's back was to him. Sharon's "husband" stood behind her, removing his tie and breast coat. When he finished he placed his arms firmly around her waist. She tilted her neck ever so slightly in invitation and he accepted, bending to nuzzle the pure, white nape. Meanwhile his hands took hold of the satin cord which was loosely tied, and slowly drew the ends apart until the bow shrank and then disappeared altogether.

His hands rose to her shoulders, where he hooked his forefingers inside the wide lapel and then teased the soft garment towards her shoulders. "Dear, you promised to love honor and obey me this afternoon," he said. "I have very particular desires and as my wife it falls on you to fulfil those desires. Will you obey me?"

"Always," was her short reply. He let the robe drop to the floor and said, "Place your hands behind your back." As Sharon complied, he bent to retrieve the satin cord which lay in a heap on the floor. Folding it in half, he formed an eyelet through which he fed the ends, making a kind of slipknot. Grasping her hands he placed his makeshift tie around them. In a few moments his work was done and his "bride" stood before him, both arms secured behind her back. Now it was time for him to view his bride face-on.

Grasping her upper arms, he completed her 360 degree journey. Sharon stood facing him, but not with her head bowed; that would have been out of character and she had been instructed to remain in character no matter what he did. She looked directly into his eyes and said, "I have been waiting for this night for what seems like forever. Is this how you want me, my love? Do you really want to deny me the joy of touching you on our wedding night?"

"For the time being, yes," was his reply. "I want you to feel helpless before me." He surveyed his prize. Innocent and beautiful from the neck up, Sharon was a pretty package which he had just begun to unwrap. From the neck down, she was just as beautiful, but much less innocent looking. Her nipples protruded out over the corset which had been specifically designed to both support and show a chest as magnificent as hers. Her nipples were as big as silver dollars, red and fully engorged pointing slightly above the horizontal. They would have done so whether she had been wearing the white corset or not.

"Husband, you frighten me; the look in your eyes is unlike I have ever seen on you. Untie me and make sweet love to your wife." Sharon lowered her eyes slightly as if she were afraid of his response. He grasped the sides of her head and turned it upwards to meet his lips, which pressed passionately against hers. Then without a moment's hesitation he pushed her and she fell backwards onto the bed, legs bent at the knees and dangling over the side. Her full, soft breasts bounced when she hit the mattress and further freed themselves from their corset bindings to hang slightly towards her sides.

Her "husband" knelt and positioned himself between her legs using his strong hands to spread them far apart. While she tried to find a comfortable position by shifting her weight and adjusting her hips his hands moved up and down, fondling her calves and thighs, lingering for a few seconds at the boundary where sheer nylon turned to soft white inner thigh in order to savor both textures at once. Just above he could see the place where her thighs met. A set of delicate crotchless panties lay over her garter belt strings. His hands moved higher, using those same strings as a guide until his hands surrounded her sex. Sharon quivered in response. Her luscious hips moved ever so slowly in a circle, an unspoken invitation for him to continue.

The guard extended his thumbs to find the seam where the white lace was covering her pubis. He could feel moisture as he probed, looking for the thin division which separated the two sides of the garment. At last one flap gave way and he quickly drew the other aside. His thumbs advanced along the slippery road to his "bride's" labia. There was no pubic hair to impede him from reaching his goal because Sharon had been completely shaven except for a thin, auburn strip directly above her clitoris in preparation for this night. She was wide open to him.

Again his thumbs moved towards the center of her sex, catching her outer labia between thumb and forefinger on each side. They were difficult to hold and to spread due to her natural juices which had lubricated the entire area in sweet anticipation. Suddenly his hands were off her sex as he grabbed her legs behind the knees and pulled her towards him. In a moment his face was buried in her pussy, tongue extended and probing.

Startled by the suddenness of his assault, she gasped as she felt his tongue on her sex. As Sharon pushed forward to meet his dancing, wriggling probe his tongue continued its flicking assault on her vagina. The sensation was overwhelming as her hips moved side to side in automatic response. His tongue flitted back and forth until he stopped, half inside her. After a moment's hesitation it began to rise ever so slowly towards her clit. That he'd reached the nub was apparent to him when Sharon suddenly lifted her hips in reaction to his finding her sensitive spot. He held her fast while he put his entire mouth over her clit and began to suck it, gently at first but with increasing pressure. Sharon moaned out loud and once again shifted her hips in response, but he had her pinned. Her moans became more insistent as she moved towards climax.

It was all she could do to hold herself back, fighting the urge to release. Her training had ingrained in her the need to resist absolutely her own feelings and always to ask for permission to give in to orgasm. Nevertheless, her Master-husband had clearly instructed her to remain in character. As she tried to decide, he used his tongue alternately to batter and then to caress her clit. In addition to the sucking, which had become stronger and more persistent, Sharon's Master-husband had extended his hands to grab her buttocks. Using his new leverage, he jerked her hips forward. Sharon erupted in response. "Oh! oh! ... aargh!" she screamed as her orgasm struck her like a thunderbolt and she lifted her hips as far off the bed as she could, in a vain attempt to guard against additional stimulation of her now-hypersensitive clit.

The beautiful auburn-haired "bride" fell back on the bed and shook as one aftershock after another swept over her. It had been a colossal orgasm, unexpected for the most part, and it seized her body totally. As she lay shuddering on the bed she half expected to be slapped or otherwise punished for coming without expressed permission. Instead Jean brought himself up onto the bed close enough for another intimate kiss. "Oh, husband," she whispered, "That was divine. I never knew that kind of joy was possible. Please undo my hands so that I may please you in return."

"But you are pleasing me, my love," he whispered in return as he propped himself up on one elbow and dropped his mouth down to kiss her breast. Using his free hand he squeezed the exquisite white mound, drawing it closer until his lips could reach the nipple. He nibbled playfully on the rosy nub alternating gentle sucking with little "love bites." Sharon was still bathing in the afterglow of her orgasm and could merely purr as her "husband" toyed with her fleshy tit.

"Please, please untie me," she begged. "Allow me to undress you as you have undressed me. I want to stiffen your manhood. My body is screaming for you."

"Silly girl," he laughed, "my manhood needs no help. I am rock hard, but if you wish I will free your hands and submit to your desires. We have all night to please each other."

Jean stood up to face her as she lay on the bed. Sharon rolled over on her stomach while he freed her hands. After a quick bit of rubbing, the circulation in her hands returned to normal and she sat up and reached out to undo the buttons on her "Master-husband's" ruffled shirt. No sooner had she loosened the final button, than she began removing his sleek cumber bun and black tuxedo trousers as well. For his part, Jean looked down to admire once again her beautiful chest, this time from above. The satin striped tuxedo pants fell to the floor; only his boxer shorts remained. His cock was almost entirely visible poking through the opening in front.

Sharon reached to take it with both hands as she placed her lips over the protruding tip, but, continuing in character, did not allow him to enter her mouth any more deeply. She sucked and savored the taste of his slippery pre-cum but did not advance down the shaft until she felt him shudder, then all at once she took him deep to the base of his balls. Startled, he instinctively tried to back off, but the tables had turned and Sharon held him fast, allowing him to retreat only when she was ready to do so. She settled into a slow up and down motion and he ceased all resistance. Drool dripped from Sharon's mouth onto the floor.

As he felt himself ready to enter the final phase of arousal he suddenly withdrew and took a step back. "Oh, not quite yet my beautiful bride," he said. I want to cum inside you as a present on our wedding night. Let's take a break and share another glass of champagne while we rest and prepare."

"Certainly, my husband," Sharon responded as she rose to her feet. "May I pour?"

"Thank you, darling," was the reply.

They sat together on the side of the bed sharing another glass of the bubbly wine until Jean took her hand and said "Wife, you know that I find you to be the most remarkable beauty I have ever encountered in my life. As beautiful as you are, now that we're married I must confess that I look forward to restraining you regularly and, at times, severely. You see I believe that a woman is at her highest level of beauty when she is in peril, helpless and afraid. There is no intoxicant, no aphrodisiac stronger than the apprehension in the eyes of a beautiful woman about to be taken against her will. Tonight's session with your hands secured behind you was incredibly sexy, but tiny example of the pleasures to be had from total control, of its absence. I know that you felt the powerful grip of restraint. I have the proof of my own eyes to back me up. Your reaction to just a simple slipknot on a satin tether was undeniable."