Vanessa's Vocation Ch. 03

Still, we managed to get along OK, and I got across the essence of the show to the others. I needed to make sure that the two girls were well-prepared for anal sex, as I knew from experience that Nikolai was well-endowed, so I had both of them show me their arseholes there and then.

I was immediately struck by the difference. Leila was clearly well used to being fucked in the anus. When she spread her buttocks, she did so with a practised air, looking back at me over her shoulder coquettishly. Her arsehole was a black, inviting cave, which would swallow up any cock, suck it into its warm, mysterious depths like a vacuum cleaner. Yasmina, on the other hand, showed me a little, puckered hole which could almost have been virgin. I told her not to move, and fetched lubricant and a medium butt-plug. I smeared the lube around her hole, then, gently at first, worked the black rubber plug in past her sphincter, causing her to wriggle and groan ass it forced its way into her tender back passage. When a couple of centimetres remained, I rammed it in hard, and she cried out sharply. I spanked her hard across her rounded buttocks, reddening them prettily, and told her she had to keep the plug in place for twenty-four hours, and then have it replaced by a larger one. When she protested, her friend spoke sharply to her in Arabic. I asked her what she had said, and she told me that she had reminded Yasmina that she might well have been stoned to death by now were it not for my intervention. I gave her a kiss, and said, 'Thanks, but let's not be too dramatic.'

Nikolai gave me to understand he wanted to know if the girls were used to being punished, as he was going to have to whip them in public, so I told them to strip so that he could see the stripes inflicted by their most recent whipping.

Both had their backs criss-crossed with red wheals.

'Who did that?' I asked.

'Alicia,' said Yasmina, 'with the riding crop.'

'Did she tie you up,' I asked.

'I do not need to be tied up,' retorted Yasmina, proudly.

'You will be chained up for the show,' I said, 'for the benefit of the public.'

We agreed on a costume rehearsal for the next day, then a day's rest before we were due to fly to England.

I spent that afternoon enjoying my new car. I drove out into the countryside with the hood down – it was good to be alive.

Next morning, as arranged, we assembled in the theatre, with Rafael taking the place of the new guy, who hadn't yet arrived.

I wore a black corset, which Nikolai had to tighten for me, so that my waist was suitably constricted, with long garter straps, black fishnet stockings and stilettos. My breasts, pushed up by the corset were bare, and I wore silver nipple-clamps, joined by a thin silver chain. I carried a cruel-looking bull-whip. Nikolai and Rafael wore the standard garb of pseudo-monastic robes, which parted at the front, so that their cocks would project once they had worked up erections. Each of them led one of the girls on stage. They wore completely transparent red long gowns, with long sleeves and high necks, through which every detail of their slim young bodies could be seen. Both were shackled and handcuffed, and were led by leashes clipped into leather collars around their necks. Their hair was done up in elaborate styles.

On the stage were two St. Andrew's Crosses, with snap-links at the extremities, and Rafael and Nikolai quickly fastened a girl to each. We had a brief discussion, and Rafael accepted my suggestion that it would be a good idea if, as a novelty, one was facing the cross, the other facing the audience. Only then was the flimsy dress ripped away from the body off each girl. Rafael told them they had to look more scared than they did, and squirm a bit, as if they were both scared and waiting for the whip. Then I had to bring both of the men to an erection.

'You want me to do that now?' I asked.

'Why not?' said Rafael.

I sidled up to Nikolai first. I hadn't seen him for some time, and I guess the sight of me with my nipple-clamps had some sort of an effect, coupled with the naked girl chained to the cross he was shortly going to see cruelly whipped. Whatever, he was already almost completely erect, his massive rod thrusting out through the parting in his robe. I took just the tip of it in my lips, running my studded tongue over his crown. He groaned and his cock grew to its impressive full length, as Rafael tapped me on the shoulder. But what tapped me on the shoulder was his familiar weapon, the prick I loved so much. I took him deep into my throat, knowing his control was superb, and he closed his eyes as He gave a few strokes in my mouth, bringing himself to full readiness.

I stood up, and picked up the whip fro where I had let it fall. I was, by now, expert in the wielding of this implement, and knew that I shouldn't do too much damage to the girls if they were to be presentable in England in two days' time. I said ass much to Rafael, and he nodded.

I gave Yasmina three strokes across her lower back, raising red stripes which would soon go away, and turning to Leila, lashed her twice across her stomach and once across her tits. She yelled in agony at that, but when Nikolai felt her crack, he said she was soaking. The two girls were unclipped, and laid face-down across padded benches, in full view of the theoretical audience. I made sure their positions were correct, with legs apart, and then Nikolai took Leila and Rafael took Yasmina. The latter screamed when Rafael entered her arsehole, despite my work with the butt-plugs, and Rafael said he had serious doubts whether she could take the new guy's cock in her arsehole, unless he was quite small.

'We shall find out tomorrow,' he said.

Conrado duly showed up after lunch the next day. We were booked on a flight the morning after, so there was little time to work with him, but Rafael had told me that he had worked in a similar capacity in Brazil, so he wasn't worried about him.

Half an hour after he arrived, however, Rafael summoned me to his office. He was looking grim.

'Bad news, Vanessa!'

'Oh?'

'Conrado is fucking huge! He would split Yasmina in two.'

'Then he can fuck her pussy.'

'No,' he said, 'that's not what the contract says. You'll have to do a swap.'

'But she'll never be able to use the bull-whip.'

'No problem. She can use a riding crop.Thatdoesn't matter.'

'OK,' I agreed.

'You mean you'll do it? You're a real gem, Vanessa.'

When I saw Conrado, I thought I hadn't made a bad decision. He was a hunk and a half! Olive-skinned, with black curly hair and a strong chin, he had an athlete's body and stood well over six feet tall.

We duly boarded a British Airways flight for Heathrow at Madrid Barajas next morning, and I'm sure we must have looked an ill-assorted bunch – the blond Nikolai, Latin Conrado, the two Arab beauties and myself. Try as I might, I was always typecast as the original 'English Rose.'

We were met at Heathrow, and whisked off deep into what I supposed were the Chilterns, in a people-carrier with heavily tinted windows. The verdant countryside flashed by and our silent chauffeur refused to be drawn into conversation, so we responded by speaking to each other in Spanish.

An hour and a half's journey saw us pulling up by a gateway. The driver got out and rang a bell-push concealed behind a flap, then spoke into a grille. The tall, spiked gates swung open as he got into the driving seat, and we were inside, faced with a tree-lined driveway. Half a mile of this, and we came to a parking area in front of an imposing Tudor-style mansion.

Two uniformed maids awaited us on the steps of an ample porch, and took our hand luggage, whilst a porter helped the driver with our heavier items from the back of the vehicle.

Before being shown the dressing room, I was led to a study, where I was introduced to the owner of the Mansion, a distinguished titled gentleman in his fifties, who received me with great charm.

It was almost seven, and the show was due to start at eight thirty, so we had no time to lose, and had to start getting ready right away.

My first concern was Yasmina, and after telling her to strip, I fitted her into a black leather corset, which I then laced as tight as I possibly could, causing her to gasp aloud as her waist was pulled in until I could span around it with my fingers. Her breasts were pushed upwards above the platform of the bra, and her long dark nipples were just asking to be sucked. I briefly obliged, causing them to harden instantly, and preparing her for the sudden pain I inflicted when I screwed on the cruel silver clamps. I tightened them down hard, and she cried out in agony. Then I connected them with the length of delicate chain. When I had her roll on her fishnet stockings and clip them to her garter straps, I stroked her naked mound, and said to her, 'When you go on to face the audience, play with your pussy a little – they will like that'

'OK,' she said, and suggested she might push the handle of the crop into her cunt. I thought that was a great idea.

It was time to slip into our gowns, Leila and myself. That was no problem – we were totally naked apart from them, and barefoot. We helped each other with our collars, ankle restraints, chains and handcuffs, then the two men came along in their monks' robes and attached our leashes, ready to lead us out on to the prepared stage, which they had already inspected.

We had a few minutes to wait, and checked our hair-does in the mirrors. Yasmina's was left loose, flowing in a long, jet-black mane down her back, as she wasn't going to be whipped, whilst we two had ours' tied up in French knots.

We heard our musical cue, and were led out on to the low stage by Yasmina, to much applause from the relatively few people in the audience. My first view of the auditorium revealed fewer than forty people, mostly, but by no means all, men – and all in evening dress. They were sat in elegant Regency chairs, at tables, all drinking. It looked like a scene from another century. Yasmina hammed it up with her riding crop, parting her puffy cunt-lips, and shoving the handle deep into her capacious hole, an expression of rapture on her face.

Meanwhile, Leila and I were chained to our respective crosses, our cuffs and shackles taken away. Although I had my back to the audience, I looked around, and saw Yasmina now busy, snaking her curvaceous body down the front of Nikolai's robe, then feeling inside its opening, to pull out his erect cock. The audience applauded when she took it deep into her mouth and Nikolai rolled his eyes upwards. He pumped it once or twice, for effect, then Conrado, who was taller and more muscular, made a show of pushing him aside, and swept his robe open to reveal an absolutely enormous weapon – it was fully ten inches long, and thick as my wrist. I looked away, now horrified that he was going to invade my arsehole with such a mighty tool – I really doubted whether I could take it.

Yasmina had to stretch her mouth wide to take his prodigious prick into her lips, andd the audience were silenced in awe, as she looked up adoringly, her mouth full of his engorged flesh. Then he pushed her away, and she picked up her long riding crop, and strode over to Leila. In one rapid movement she tore the flimsy gown from neck to hem, and the audience applauded as Leila's naked body was revealed, her arms and legs spread-eagled in a position of maximum vulnerability. To exhibit this, Yasmina put her free hand into Leila's shaven crack, making sure the audience could see her fingers disappearing into the other girl's cunt. When she withdrew them, she transferred them to her mouth, and, facing the audience, drank of Leila's sweet juices. Then, without warning, she turned, and whipped Leila across her flat stomach, causing her to cry out sharply, and a thin red stripe to be raised on her tender flesh.

Again and again she drew back her arm, and lashed the other girl, this time just above the waist, first to one side, then to the other. She had Leila squirming against her bonds, moaning and crying out at each stroke, and when she whipped the sides of her firm young breasts, Leila cried out, 'No, no, oh, oh, please!' and started to moan constantly, wriggling and pulling at her cuffs.

Nikolai stepped up, and theatrically pushed Yasmina away, unfastening Leila's bonds, and whisking her up in his powerful arms. He put her down on the padded couch, her knees on the stage nearest the audience, then kicked her legs apart, and knelt down behind her. Although I couldn't see much from my position, I heard her simulated scream as he entered her rectum, and the audience's collective gasp. As was usual with our shows, I was sure there were more than a few of the audience openly masturbating and engaged in their own sexual activities.

But the audience's attention was being turned to my plight, and Conrado stood by and watched as Yasmina now tore the gown from my back. I felt the usual delicious anticipation of the crop, knowing that its pain was, for me, a prelude to true pleasure. Yasmina gave me a first stroke across my upper back. The sting that it gave me rippled through my body, giving me a warm sensation which set my juices flowing instantly. A second blow followed, and I whispered, 'Harder!' as she drew back her arm and lashed me across my lower back, raising, I was sure, a nice red welt, that the audience could enjoy. I was by now very close to an orgasm, and when the crop rained down on my tender buttocks, and I moaned and bucked, it was in the throes of an ecstatic climax, transporting me to another world.

When I 'came down,' Conrado was unclipping me from my bonds, and I shuddered as he carried me bodily over to my couch and placed me across it, pushing my knees apart.

I lewdly parted my buttocks, reaching behind with both hands, showing the audience my arsehole, as Conrado whipped back his robe, displaying his enormous shaft. I looked over my shoulder in real apprehension.

He knelt behind me, and I was grateful that he took his time. First I felt the urgent thrust of his crown, probing at my anus. It would not be denied, and his rock-hard shaft worked its inexorable way into my tender passage. Had I not so recently been opened up so frequently by the cruel sodomising of the old sheikh, I don't think he could have forced his way in, and, as it was, I was in absolute agony by the time his enormous weapon broached my sphincter.

'Oh no!' I cried, then, 'Oooh, oh, ooargh, yes, you bastard!' And then he was inside me, filling my whole body with his huge, urgent, maleness – and I wanted him to hurt me, to hurt me more, to tear my flesh. 'Fuck me, you bastard!' I yelled, and the audience joined in, 'Yes, fuck the bitch, fuck her arsehole!'

He drove into me so fiercely that he was pushing the couch across the stage, and he wasn't able to keep it going for long. 'I'm cumming!' he shouted, and stiffening, he drove into me one long last time, and shot his load of hot spunk deep into my bowels, as I had an almighty orgasm. The sheer force of which caused me to lose consciousness for a brief moment.

After the curtain came down, and we had taken a curtain call, clutching our robes about us, to wild applause from the audience, the owner of the Mansion came backstage and invited us to dinner. We were a little concerned that we had brought nothing special to wear for such an occasion, so we had to make do with our travelling clothes – in my case a simple button-through summer dress and high heels.

It didn't seem to matter, however, and my last act before being driven off to the airport for our flight to Madrid was to give our host a quick hand-job under the tablecloth. He assured us that we should be invited back.