Politics is a Dirty Business

The nervous sweat broke out again as I climbed behind the wheel of the Beemer. I could feel the wetness growing at my crotch, cleavage and under my arms. The cologne may hide the scent but already my forehead was drenched and my hair was coming undone. My idea as I dressed was to look professional and assertive. I picked-out a sharp, teal-blue blouse that matched the blue in my eyes. I always believed it set off the gold streaks in my hair. I debated wearing my hair down, he always commented that he liked it like that, maybe this would soften him up. But, defiantly I pinned it tightly to my neck. My skirt was ivory and fell to my mid-calf. And my pink toe nails showed through the open-toed, standard black pumps.

If I wasn't so terrified and nervous, it would be a sexy, bold look. But as it was, I looked a hot mess. When I caught my reflection in the rear view, the only "professional" I could see was a whore. It was not a comforting feeling, especially considering the situation.

I had only been to his place a couple times, but I found it easily. He owned a stand-alone condo at the end of a quiet, shaded cul-de-sac. My heels clicked noisily on dark pavement as I walked to the lighted front entrance. The image of every slasher movie from childhood, rushed to my head. I felt like a lamb being led to slaughter as I worked the heavy, brass door-knocker. The solid thud it made startled me. There I stood rooted and shaking, until finally I heard soft footsteps on the other side.

If my heart could have fallen any lower, it happened when the Viking opened the door. Like a sordid picture in a sleazy magazine, he appeared there with a cocktail glass in hand, wearing a long, black and red trimmed, Kimono. He was bare-footed, the reddish blonde hairs showed at his lower arms and legs. The sash was loose, revealing his smooth, muscular chest. And his long, pale blonde locks hung shoulder-length and sexy. I was still plenty steamed but also crazily aroused. "Well Susan, you look very sexy tonight. Please come in, would you care for a Martini?"

He was gorgeous, no doubt about it. I had had many erotic daydreams about his seductive body. And I have often fantasized about what exactly was hidden beneath the silk. I had tickled my feverish clitoris on many lonely nights, dreaming of his strong arms around me. My own body was betraying my resolve. At the sight of him, my nipples perked-up and I felt a moist heat in my pussy. A slow trickle was oozing down my inner thigh. I crossed my legs and bit down on my lips. It occurred to me, that in the shower, I had taken the time to trim my wiry snatch. Was this little rendezvous actually turning me on?

At almost any other time in my life, considering my personal situation, I may have succumbed to the sensual fantasy playing out before me. But the little trace of condescension I heard in his tone, caught me, I momentarily recovered my anger. Pushing past him, I strode into the plush, great room. "What the fuck Sven, you creep. This isn't a social call?"

He chuckled defiantly and poured chilled vodka from the pitcher on the bar. "You may want to lose that attitude, if you want to enjoy the evening." He motioned me over to an over-stuffed, velvet chair and sat opposite me, the slinky robe opening to just beneath his crotch. I was still terribly mad but I kept sneaking peeks between his legs, straining to see if he had on dark underwear, or if the shadow was hiding his cock. He was chattering seductively about something but my mind and emotions were off on another fantasy trip. I felt so conflicted...and nasty.

My trance broke for a second, and I mustered the false bravado I had left. "Cut the bullshit you bastard, how could you do this to me? I treated you well. I took care of you. You're just a dirty, blackmailer, I trusted you...

He was on me like a cat. His hand gripped the small bun of light brown hair at my nape, stopping my protests and buckling my knees. Twisting his wrist, he leveraged me to the deep pile carpet.

"Susan, blackmail is such an ugly word. I much prefer extortion." He laughed again and I blanched at his obvious glee. My bold demeanor cracked like thin glass. I whimpered at his feet as he pulled the pins from my hair. "You know I prefer your hair down, don't you?" I meekly nodded. "From now on, that's how you'll wear it, right?" Another shaky nod, shaking free some big, wet tears. He reached a large, strong hand inside my shirt and into my bra. I gasped and my cheeks grew flush. I froze in place and allowed him every liberty with my chest, and my pussy reacted in kind. It hit me just like that. I knew I was beaten, why dig any more? After playing the tough boss and the hard-ass bitch, it felt like a relief to give-in to a truly dominant master. And the Viking knew how to play me.

In the next minute my cornflower-blue, designer blouse was draped around my waist. Only the tucked in tail was holding it on. He was staring down at me, his imposing presence casting a shadow on my frame. His blonde hair in silhouette. I was on my knees at his feet, my heart trembling yet my pulse pounded in my ears. My breasts were exposed to him, and I loved that he admired them. Then I saw it. His enormous cock. Poking out from the sheer robe, it's fantastic, purplish head pointing directly at my nose. "Go ahead Susan, You know what to do. Hell, you've wanted it all along, haven't you?"

I could make no reply but to sheepishly bob my head , and involuntarily lick my dry lips. And with dreamlike motions, I grabbed his swollen member in both hands. With my head still shaking and the loose, sweaty strands of hair tumbling over my face, I automatically kissed the giant, mushroom head of his cock. I glanced upward with his bulbous tip in my cheek, and saw him smile at me. Then as if it had a mind of it's own, my hesitant tongue, proceeded to paint the thick contours of his amazing pole. I warmed to the effort. The stormy convulsions beginning to surge in my cunt.

I was hooked. I rubbed my soaked snatch with one hand and cradled his large, hairy ball-sac with the other. With my last ounce of self-respect, I pleaded, " Will you be kind to me, no one can ever see those tapes. I'll be yours, I swear." I kissed his firm, enticing cock once more and for the first time in my life, I felt a thunderous orgasm while sucking cock. What a slut, I'll be the perfect slave.

"Show me how good you can be and I'll take good care of you. You belong to me now. Now suck my cock. I want you to swallow my load and then I'm going to fuck that political pussy of yours." He held my head still and thrust his fat cock deep in my mouth. My hand continued to pump his impressively firm shaft and feed more of it into my eager mouth. He shuddered, I didn't know what to make of it , and then I tasted it. I felt the warm, rich, salty fluid flooding my tongue and his grip tightened around my head. I swallowed hard to keep from choking and gasped for air at the suddenness.

Finally he released his hold and I pulled his still spurting rod from my lips. His creamy cum continued to shoot strings of syrupy, sperm on my face and chest. Surprisingly, it felt hot and wonderful. I was his cum-drenched slut and I wallowed in it. With long, stringy vines of sticky, white goop dripping from my chin and hanging obscenely from my pointy, pink nipples. I felt alive. And overly aroused.

For the first time in years, I was free. After months of living a scared, lonely existence, I could be me. And I thrilled to a strong man dominating my worshipful body. At work I acted tough. I put on a brave front, bossing people around and pretending to be incharge. But that's all it was, an act, and Sven knew it. This is what I truly wanted and needed. I was completely under his spell. His slave. His to fuck. And his to humiliate, and I wanted it all. I could already feel another powerful orgasm mounting. I wanted this man to use my slutty body and make me his own. My snatch was on fire. I tugged my lovely skirt off of my legs and clambered to my hands and rug-burned knees. My panties had been hanging on by an ankle, I now kicked them aside. My sticky fingers stroked my aching clit and I peered over my bare shoulder in an inviting pose, "Fuck me Sven. I'm your whore now and I need fucked!"

He was rough and forceful as he jammed his rock-hard erection into my gaping cunt and I shrieked my absolute surrender. "Give it to me, please. I'm yours. I belong to you, master." His big hands yanked and pulled my bouncing tits, and his ginormous tool plowed deep inside my hungry cunt. I loved it. I wanted it. The pounding and rocking were electric. I felt the sweaty weight of him on my back and his powerful fingers digging into my pliant ass when he drove deep. I came twice more and wasn't done.

His animal grunts and filthy swearing brought me to the edge. I knew I was his and I reveled in it. His beautiful body had always excited me and now there would be no holding me back. Every lewd, taboo detail I had ever imagined is here for me, I can be the slut of my dreams. I screamed, "Fuck me Viking, fuck me. I'm your slut and I'll be your slave forever."

When he filled me a final time, I felt a hard, wet slap on my reddened ass. He pulled me to my bare feet by yanking my wet, tussled hair. Without a word, he led me by the hand to another room, where I was amazed and frightened to see all manner of racks, straps, whips, dildos, and more.

I trotted along infront of him, his firm hand shoving my ass and a continual verbal assessment of my anatomy. "I love the wiggle of your ass when you walk and how nicely those big tits bounce. And that tight, little bung-hole is so inviting, I plan to enjoy every inch of you." He led me to a stout, heavy wooden bench, with chains and cuffs attached. "On your knees, whore. I'm going to rape your juicy ass next." He buckled me securely to the rack, bent me over a padded block with my ass in the air and spread some flavored gel into my reluctant rear end. I didn't have time to think before his mammoth tool was plunging determinedly into my virgin butt. On a large screen TV infront of me, I saw a confusing image of a dusty-blonde woman sucking deep and long on his tremendous cock.

I thought for a moment he had taped our recent encounter and was projecting it to enforce his ownership of me, or to act as further encouragement for the successful deflowering of my asshole. But then I realized that it was a different girl. I forgot for a moment, the intense pressure on my backside, and noticed that I knew the woman in the video. I saw that she was a waitress from the cafeteria in our building. I shouted, "I know that girl, she works down stairs. Are you fucking her too?" I felt intensely jealous for a second. And then I fell under the spell of her technique on his cock.

"Very good Susan. That's Katy. She knows you too. She'll probably be surprised when I bring you two together. Next time I fuck your ass, I want to see you licking her bald snatch." This whole thing was whirling away at lightening speed. Next time? Another woman? Eating pussy with a cock in my ass? Gawd it was so exciting, I didn't think I could last. The novel idea of a threesome inflamed me. With two wanton slave girls performing for their master. I was in sexual heaven and eager for more.

The low grunts and high-pitched squeals filled the room as we both came at the same time. His strong hips pounded that pile driver prick into my tight ass. After five solid minutes of thrusting, I experienced the ultimate rush. The salty juice poured out of me and ran down my thighs. He rolled off of me and I was a cum-covered mess. The straps were released and I eased onto my sore back. My hands reflexively rubbed the milky fluid onto my heaving tits and I absently played with my hot, dripping gash. My thoughts were well off, imaging our next tryst. I was thoroughly used and completely under his control. I loved it.

"Sven, when will all this happen?" I innocently asked.

"Friday night. Pack a bag, wear something slutty, no underwear! And be here by ten."

When I left, I was humming.

The End

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