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From: "Elizabeth M Scanlon" <ELIZABETHS@prodigy.net>
Subject: New Story: Dream Man? (NC, bdsm, group hum)
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This is a fairly rough story which includes non consensual sexual
acts and bondage, discipline and light sadism.  This is not to be read
by those who are not interested in such fantasy reading, and certainly not
meant for anyone under 18 years of age!!!  If you fit either of the
previously mention categories, please read no further! If you enjoy
erotic flights of fancy and can distinguish between this (a fantasy) and
reality, please do read on.  This is my first attempt at a story, and all
input is much appreciated.  I wrote it in the first person, as it is my
fantasy!!! <g> Comments, criticism, praise gratefully accepted! Hope you
like it!  ElizabethS@prodigy.net

DREAM MAN

I met him at a fairly 'stuffy' restaurant on The Plaza in Kansas City.
In fact it was at Harry Starkers.  Very expensive with a fantastic wine
list. I was meeting a girlfriend there and he met my eyes over my
Tanquerray & Tonic as I drank nervously.  I have always hated to sit
in a public place alone. I feel very conspicuous.  Jackie (my girlfriend)
called and said her babysitter cancelled at the last minute and she
couldn't find another.  Here I was stuck 60 miles from home and my
plans down the drain. I went back to the bar where I had been sitting
to finish my drink and then go home. I morosely stirred my drink and
let my mind drift.  I began to look around a little to the other people
in the restaurant.
There were mostly couples or groups of people; very few single people.
Part of me wanted to just get up and leave, but another part could
see no point in just leaving a full drink on the bar.  The starving
children in ... wherever. God bless mom and her ridiculous 'life lessons'.
Never leave the table without cleaning your plate and drinking your
milk.  I was sure this applied somehow, but how was unclear.  After
I had taken my last sip of my drink, I rose to leave the restaurant.
As I began to walk out, a man I had noticed earlier approached me and
introduced himself.  He was everything the romantics call for, tall,
dark and handsome in an unconventional way.  Paul Morrisette was his
name.  We made small talk for a few minutes. I noted the time and
indicated I needed to think about getting home as I lived an hour away,
he asked if he might 'call on me'.  I thought it sounded wonderfully
sweet and old fashioned!  I told him where I lived, and he said that
the distance was no problem at all.  I gave him my number and left the
restaurant, feeling a bit giddy, but assuming he'd forget he met me.
I drove home spinning all sorts of scenarios in my head, cheesy
romantic notions along with thoughts of how exciting it might be
to have sex with him.  As I drove, I began to chastise myself for
even supposing he would really call me.  In all likelihood I would
not hear from him again.
When I reached home, I called Jackie and told her about meeting an
interesting man at Starkers, and we chatted about her children
her husband and other odd topics before rescheduling our aborted
'ladies night' for the next week.  I then went to the bathroom,
showered, brushed my teeth and went to bed.  I couldn't sleep so
I tried for a bit to read the latest John Grisham novel; finally
I gave up and turned off the light, lying in the dark letting my
mind wander until I finally drifted off around 3:00AM.  Well, he
called the next day to say he felt it was fate that we met...and
he was sure there was a something special in our future.  I was
surprised (men don't usually say stuff like that) but of course
I didn't know then how true those words were!!  I was just so
excited that he called!  He seemed so romantic and old fashioned
- not like many 'modern' men who seem to feel you owe them sex
because they bought dinner.  We went out both Friday and Saturday
nights the next two weekends, and I felt like I was rushing headlong
into falling if not in love, in lust!!  In all that time, Paul never
did more than kiss me a few times.  I was wondering if he was THAT
old fashioned, but then figured time would tell.
The second Saturday night, as he was dropping me off at home,
he asked if I was free the following weekend.  I said "Weekend?"
sure he meant Friday and Saturday nights only.  He said he had
some friends who had a country place north of KCI Airport and
they were having a soiree and a weekend get together.  He said
he would be very excited to introduce me to his friends.  He
laughed and said they were a bit different and the weekend would
be a sort of 'baptism by fire'.  I was so touched he would feel
protective of me, and assured him I would be fine.  After all
I had been taking care of myself for years! He said 'bring an
'After 5' dress and a couple of casual outfits.  I was floating
on air!
Friday arrived and I was nervous as a cat.  What if they didn't like me?
I wore a red backless cocktail dress that was form fitting to the waist,
and then softly flared to about 4 inches above my knees, black shoes
and nude thigh high stockings.  He picked me up and said 'delicious!',
to which I blushed with happiness.  We got there and had a drink
(gin and tonic for me,martini for him), and then dinner. It was a
fabulous meal.  Paul said the quail pate was in my honor, and everyone
laughed. I was a bit confused, but figured he meant it was because he
called me (affectionately, I thought) his little quail.  A spinach
salad with a wonderful dressing followed, and then some kind of gazpacho.
The main meal was veal cordon bleu, and we had a fantastic chocolate
amaretto mousse with coffee to finish.  I was introduced to many people,
none of whose names really stuck with me.  There must have been at
least 30 people at this 'small get-together'.  After dinner, some
wandered into a pool area and chatted; those that wanted to swam.
Others wandered about several beautifully elegant rooms discussing
the host's latest art acquisitions or just relaxing on couches and
chairs around the rooms.  Several domestics circulated with after
dinner drinks and cigars for those interested.
About this time, the host (an older silver haired man with a beard and
mustache) came up to Paul and me and asked if he could 'steal away this
delightful little girl for a bit', to which Paul smiled and, giving me
an apologetic smile, acquiesced.  He said he had some things in his
library he thought I might be intrigued by, and told me everyone else
had been here before and had seen his collection,but that they might
join us later.  We went into the library and he poured me a snifter of
brandy.  It was warm, and I sipped it, loving the taste on my tongue.
We made small talk and I was beginning to wonder what in the hell his
collection was, when one or two others wandered into the room.  He
welcomed the two men and said 'you should show our new little quail
the first piece of the collection'....and there the whole evening
plunged headfirst into insanity..........
Both men, as if on cue, each grabbed one of my wrists.  I began
to pull against them a bit and was led resisting to a large desk.
Wait, it wasn't exactly the type of desk it appeared to be initially
- it had CUFFS on each corner or the huge mahogany top!  The kindly
old man suddenly changed into a very determined master of the situation.
"Get her dress off, gentlemen, and prepare the quail for the party".
They each said "Sure, boss" in unison, and before I knew it I was
without my dress and attached spread eagled to this monstrous desk.
A blindfold was put over my eyes and a gag was roughly put in my mouth
when I began to scream for Paul. One of the lackeys pushed my panties
aside and roughly stuck his thick finger up my pussy.  I moaned and
he said 'jeez...this one ain't wet at all..." and of course, the next
second his finger withdrew and another was thrust up me. "Ahhh, they'll
get her going - they always do.  And if we're lucky and do a good job,
the boss might let us stay!"  My brain was racing - "STAY???? for
WHAT????"
I heard some rummaging around and clattering, and wondered what was
going on, but soon became more concerned by the door opening and
closing and the murmuring of voices, all, it seemed, male.  Hands
were everywhere, slapping pinching and pulling my mound and pussy lips,
and doing the same to my breasts.  I was sure Paul would show up
anytime - surely he would straighten this out.  Then my heart sank
as I heard his voice, saying "Now you KNOW the rules, since I snared
her, I get to play first!"  He leaned close to my ear and said
'be a good girl now and don't raise a ruckus and it won't be so bad
- you might even have a spot of fun! And by the way, my name isn't
really Paul, in case you were thinking of trying to report this later.
And the old goat hosting is a judge, so no one would believe you
anyway!"
"WHY???" I cried piteously to the man I had thought myself falling
har for. "Because I LIKE it this way as do my colleagues - it adds
such spice, don't you agree?" (Raucous agreement and cheers) "Enough
talk......"  I felt something cold and ... sharp slide down my tummy...
.....and then my panties were gone - cut off.  I was now totally
exposed to everyone in the room. I heard some laughter as I struggled
and a few comments about my open pussy. Someone remarked (so casually
he might have been discussing the weather) "why don't we warm her up
a bit to show what generous chaps we are!" There was laughter, jeering
and agreement....and activity intensified markedly. Soon it got rough.
My face, breasts and pussy were being slapped hard and over and over
again.  My breasts and pussy lips were stretched until I thought the
would be pulled off...and there were some people who liked biting
I was being bitten and sucked, sometimes harshly.  I heard a chant start
'first strike ... first strike.." and then felt someone move between
my legs...and a mouth on my mound. It was Paul, I knew, sucking gently
and in spite of my fear I was to my horror beginning to get wet. He
nibbled and laved me with his tongue, and I could feel myself nearing
orgasm.  He was now manipulating my pussy with his fingers, and chuckled
and said 'well, there the little dear is. Fancy that, her clit has come
out of hiding...I felt his hot breath between my legs, his tongue again,
and then he was sucking my clit....softly at first, then a bit harder.
He nibbled my clit...and then -- excruciating pain as he BIT DOWN HARD!!
I shrieked loudly - he had, I was sure, bitten my clit completely off.
Crying, keening and whimpering, I tried to somehow pull my legs together
to protect my abused pussy as the voices around taunted and ridiculed my
efforts.  Hands grabbed my upper legs and pulled me legs even farther
apart and someone jeered "open her up wide now! We want to see it all!!"
And then I felt a cock push up against me......and roughly in me.  As
Paul, for I knew it was he fucking me, pounded me other hands were still
stretching my breasts and slapping them both with hands and some stick
like things.  The pain was indescribable. And the humiliation at being
violated by these men was unspeakably horrible.   Then I felt fresh
pain as clothespins were placed all over my body, mostly around my
breasts, but also my tummy,and down near my pussy.  I heard Paul groan,
shout loudly, and shoot his load deep in me....  A few seconds later,
he pulled out and wiped his wet cock on my belly, drying it there.
I heard him laugh and say mockingly 'Darling, I hope it was as good
for you as it was for me'.  He then gave my mound a slap and a pinch
and said 'Well, now who will sample the little tart next?  She wriggles
beautifully in response to pain - her tits are especially responsive!'
Another cock.....it felt HUGE, entered me and pushed in, its entry
a bit easier only because Paul had already 'lubricated' me.  He came
and then pulled out and shot a bit of his cum on my stomach.  Then
clothespins were put on the lips of my pussy and - more agony - on my
clit!!!  I had thought the pain unbearable when one was fastened to each
nipple, but this was 20 times worse!! And then I heard someone yell,
'UNZIP her, mate!' and I howled like an animal as all of the pins were
yanked off of me at once!!  Uncomprehending  I howled like an animal . The
 reaction was just more laughter and comments about 'the lungs on the
little cunt! Let's see if we can make her really cut loose and give
those pipes a workout!' Some sort of ropes were put around my breasts
and wrapped tightly, constricting my tits horribly. Someone then began
whipping my left tit, while another used a crop on my right one, to
see which made the best welts.  It got even worse when one of the guys
reminded them the underside of the tit was more sensitive in some ways
than any other part.  I felt unbelivably vicious clamps on my nipples
and began shrieking again, increasing my howls as the clamps were
pulled simultaneously out and up.  I heard someone say 'great idea
for a suit hanger!' and then the underside of my tit was searing
with pain.  One of the reached over while those with the crops took
a break and pressed his lit cigar against the underside of my left
breast while crooning 'don't you LOVE a man with a cigar, dear?'
This stopped, as the Judge said 'calm down calm DOWN! No permanent
scarring! You know the rules!!!" The rest of the evening was a blur -
I was turned over and whipped until my butt was beet red.  I was violated
in my ass by several men, and then turned over and fucked in my pussy by
others.  There were also many pictures taken and I heard someone say the
old man would love this video for his collection.  I was raw and sore and
numb at the same time awhile later, when they opened the door and it got
WORSE.  The men had been bad, but now the women joined them.  They were
heartless and cruel.  I was fucked with dildos, carrots, a cucumber,
and at one point they tried to stretch my pussy as far as they could
with a doctor's speculum.  They scratched my breasts and netherlips
with their fingernails, bit me, and then poured astringent lotion or
alcohol over my raw areas, just to hear me scream.  They laughed at my
average breasts and unshaved pussy.  They used oils that burned on my
open pussy, and ice all over me.  I was violated in every way I had ever
heard of and some I hadn't heard of. The women had no problem with
verbal abuse either, calling me cunt, whore, slut, and some others I
had never heard of and don't remember to this day.  The men whooped
and cheered the women on, as they decided to see how far my holes would
stretch and see how much they could make fit in it.  One of the women
pushed her fingers....added her thumb, and then with a sudden hard
thrust, pushed her whole hand in my pussy.  I was lightheaded with the
pain as my now hoarse voice tried to howl.  A couple of the women
took my leg cuffs off and opened me wider and had some of the men
hold my legs wide as my tormentor forced her hand into a fist and
began punching at my insides. As she did this, someone was rhythmic-
ally brutally whipping my tits.  I couldn't scream anymore, and was
reduced to pitiful grunts and groans.  I would pass out, and then
smell something tart and acrid as I was forced awake again and
again.  One time I remember having several objects forced in my pussy
and ass, and then they left for a bit, to let me 'rest up'.  I woke
suddenly with a start as my gag was being removed.  I thought 'They're
going to let me go!" and then a cock was thrust roughly in my mouth
and I gagged as it was pushed all the way in and down my throat.
A voice said coldly 'suck it, cunt and make it good, or you will
wish you'd been a bit mroe enthusiastic!' My throat muscles convulsed
and I tried to suck. He finally came, slapping me after he pulled
out and shooting the last bit of jizz on my neck.  'Open your mouth,
slut' I heard, and another cock was in my mouth.  Then another, and
another...I gagged and tried to yell as I felt two cocks trying to
force their way into my now swollen, sore, and very dry pussy. I did
manage a shriek as I felt a whitehot jolt on my nipple..someone had
attached electric CURRENT to me.  My last memory is of having the
blindfold yanked off of my eyes and seeing a sea of laughing, taunting
leering faces above me, and hands and objects continuing their violation.
A cloth was placed over my nose and mouth and I knew no more......
I woke up and was in Paul's car......it was in idle outside my apartment
building.  I looked down and found I was dressed in my dress.  I no longer
had my hose, but my shoes were in my lap as was my purse. My hair was
damp and string straight, and I smelled... disinfectant? I looked over
to the driver...and was shocked to see Paul.   He cocked an eyebrow and
said "It was wonderful seeing you again, and I would love to see even
more of you, but it is your call, and you shouldn't make any hard
and fast decisions right now."
I stared at him horrified.  He thought I LIKED that sort of treatment???
I started to sputter and cry, and he put his finger to my lips, and
placed a card in my hand.  'If you ever wish another adventure, please
do call the number on the card. IF you state your name, you will be on
a list and they will connect you with me.  If you prefer to make this
our last little adventure, that is fine also, but I DID so love
introducing you to my friends.  They all felt an intimate connection
with you as well, my dear" and he smiled - not entirely kindly.  I
opened my door, stumbled shakily out of the car and up my walk.  I
ran inside and as soon as I got into my apartment, cried wildly as I
sat on the floor of the shower in a fetal position, letting the warm
water sluice over me soothingly.  My cries became soft sobs, then
occasional whimpers.  As the water cooled, my tears dried up. i
crawled out of the shower, and pulled on an old nightshirt, fuzzy
slippers, and a robe and walked to my bedroom.  I slipped into my
bed and fell almost immediately into the dreamless sleep of mental
and physical exhaustion.
When I emerged from my coma-like sleep some 20 hours later, I got up
and went to clean out my evening purse.  I saw a crumpled card laying
next to my purse.  I looked at it curiously.  When I saw the heading
in bold gold script:
  MISSOURI PARTY PLANNERS INC
   'let us make your evening
       memorable'
Local 555-6666
Outside KCMO call 1-888-SATISFY

I will NEVER call that number! I can't believe he even thinks I would
consider it! The man is twisted beyond belief! I should call the police.
But who would believe me?  In despair, I put the card down, and noticed
with horror I was plucking at my sore nipple, which was hardening
as I remembered the previous weekend. NO! I will FORGET those pervs
and their sick games! I almost believe myself.  But my dreams for the
last several weeks have been of nothing but that weekend.  Oh god
why can't I stop thinking of it????

THE END.........?




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