1. T h e S t o r y o f O


    Date: 9/9/2015, Categories: BDSM, Fetish, Taboo, Author: -Rolf1971-, Rating: , Source: xHamster

    upon her, and regretted his restraint. And yet she avoided his gaze, her eyes fixed upon René, terrified lest he should see what was in her eyes and perhaps deem it as a betrayal. And yet it was not betrayal, for if she were to weigh her desire to belong to Sir Stephen against her belonging to René, she would not have had a second's hesitation: the only reason she was yielding to this desire was that René had allowed her to and, to a certain extent, given her to understand that he was ordering her to. And yet there was still a lingering doubt in her mind as to whether René might not be annoyed to see her acquiesce too quickly or too well. The slightest sign from him would obliterate it immediately. But he made no sign, confining himself to ask her for the third time for an answer. She mumbled: &#034I consent to whatever you both desire,&#034 and lowered her eyes toward her hands, which were waiting unclasped in the hollows of her knees, then added in a murmur: &#034I should like to know whether I shall be whipped....&#034 There was a long pause, during which she regretted twenty times over having asked the question. Then Sir Stephen's voice said slowly: &#034From time to time.&#034 Then O heard a match being struck and the sound of glasses: both men were probably helping themselves to another round of whisky. René was leaving O to her own devices. René was saying nothing. &#034Even if I agree to it now,&#034 she said, &#034even if I promise now, I couldn't bear it.&#034 ...
    &#034All we ask you to do is submit to it, and if you scream or moan, to agree ahead of time that it will be in vain,&#034 Sir Stephen went on. &#034Oh, please, for pity's sake, not yet!&#034 said O, for Sir Stephen was getting to his feet, René was following suit, he leaned down and took her by the shoulders. &#034So give us your answer,&#034 he said. &#034Do you consent?&#034 Finally she said that she did. Gently he helped her up and, having sat down on the big sofa, made her kneel down alongside him facing the sofa, on which reclined her outstretched arms, her bust, and her head. Her eyes were closed, and an image she had seen several years before flashed across her mind: a strange print portraying a woman kneeling, as she was, before an armchair. The floor was of tile, and in one corner a dog and c***d were playing. The woman's skirts were raised, and standing close beside her was a man brandishing a handful of switches, ready to whip her. They were all dressed in sixteenth-century clothes, and the print bore a title which she found disgusting: f****y Punishment. With one hand, René took her wrists in a viselike grip, and with the other lifted her skirts so high that she could feel the muslin lining brush her cheek. He caressed her flanks and drew Sir Stephen's attention to the two dimples that graced them, and the softness of the furrow between her thighs. Then with that same hand he pressed her waist, to accentuate further her buttocks, and ordered her to pen her knees ...
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