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TPCLUB01 thick hand towel had been stuffed
THE USUAL WARNINGS:
This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind. If you are
offended by graphic descriptions of natural and/or
unnatural sexual acts, if you are underage, or if this type
of material is illegal where you are, don't read any
further.
This is a fantasy. You will have to loosen your clench on
reality a little when you read it. This is a in which
physical acts and human responses are not limited to, nor
necessarily based in, reality. Some acts and responses in
this may be physically impossible and/or
physiologically improbable.
Also, as is the case with most of the in this
newsgroup, all the women in this are beautiful;
gorgeous, even. Gravity has not caused their to
droop nor have creased wrinkles their unblemished faces.
The (the leading men, at least) are hung like bulls.
They can get it up and keep it up often and at will. In
this special little fantasyland, there are no STDs, morals,
or unwanted pregnancies; and guilt is a four-letter word.
But most important of all, no amount of strength of
character, courage of convictions or moral beliefs stands a
chance against an erotic stimulus. This can be as benign
as an accidental glimpse of a bared ankle or as stimulating
as a whipping on the genitals.
For those of you who didn't understand the preceding
statements, GO AWAY!
This is intended for the salacious entertainment of
consenting adults. Do not try to do any of the things
described in this story. You will injure yourself or your
partner. Or be arrested, or shot by her father....
If you are under 18 years of age, GO AWAY! This will
burn your eyeballs and fry your brain.
If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited where
you are, GO AWAY!
By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility for
any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure that
result from reading this story. If you don't, GO AWAY!
You have been warned!
If you enjoy this and feel the urge to post it on a
<free> site, at least give me (NightShade) credit for it.
So, stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy the
story!....?
NightShade
The President's Club
by NightShade
Chapter 1
first posted 4/97, major revision 12/98
The gazed nervously into the full-length mirror
on the door of her closet. She almost didn't recognize the
gorgeous creature standing in front of her. So much had
happened to her in the last couple of months. So much
about her life had changed and been turned upside down.
Still, she didn't think she was there yet, wherever `there'
was. She felt like a pupa stuck in mid-metamorphosis. She
wasn't a caterpillar anymore and not yet a butterfly,
either. She knew that tonight was the next step. She
didn't know how she knew. She could just feel it. Maybe
it was just because she wanted so badly for something to
happen.
Something would happen tonight, something <had> to happen
tonight to complete her metamorphosis, make her whole. Her
whole being yearned for that to happen. Yet as excited as
she was about tonight, she was even more afraid. God knew
she didn't have a good track record with her relationships
up to this point in her life. She pessimistically
wondered how she was going to mess this one up.
As she stared at the emerging butterfly in the mirror, she
thought back on the events leading up to this night. How?
Why?
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Karin's life was a mess. A total mess. But that was
nothing new. It had always been a mess....
She was just 18 years old, and had barely graduated High
School with a D average. The irony that her grade point
average was the same as her bra cup size didn't escape her.
She thought it was funny. Her teachers would have been
stunned to learn that she not only knew what irony was, but
that she could identify aspects of it in her own life, and
see the humor as well. She wasn't stupid. She was just
easily distracted, bored and terribly insecure, which she
hid from everyone by being aloof. Unfortunately, her body
had encouraged all kinds of distractions from the at
her high school.
Karin was tall for a girl, almost 6 feet tall, feminine and
graceful. Her aloofness scared all but the most aggressive
boys and kept them from asking her out. They just didn't
know how to deal with a female that didn't pant like a
bitch in heat. They never found out it was an act, a sham.
The ones who did ask her out were treated with icy
coolness. Look but don't touch. She was a trophy date to
take to the country club or the prom, but never into the
backseat.
Which was surprising, considering how universally horny
teenage are and how drop-dead beautiful Karin was.
Her face was regal, more serious than she was. Clear blue
eyes, hair, a long, graceful neck. Smooth, rounded
shoulders tapered into delicate arms, ending in soft
slender fingers.
Her legs drew a lot of attention, especially in Spring and
Summer when she wore shorts. They had been a featured
attraction ever since the sixth grade when she sprouted up.
They were constantly a source of embarrassment to her.
When she sat and innocently crossed them in class, or when
she walked down the hall, they drew unwanted attention to
her. They were endless and the short skirts she wore
emphasized their length and shapeliness.
Her hips flared nicely, but still retained the trimness of
a younger girl. The firm clean lines of her ass cheeks
swayed when she walked down the school hallways, never
failing to bring at least one, if not a chorus of whistles
behind her.
Her breasts, however, were truly amazing. They were huge,
stupendous, but her height made them seem almost
proportionate to her body. Almost. The sensuously rounded
orbs sat high and proud on her broad chest, firm and large,
defying laws of gravity and physics by standing straight
out without support. At their quivering tips were quarter-
sized circles colored a dusky pink with perfectly centered
crinkled buttons that always seemed to be sticking out
through whatever she was wearing.
Early on, she had been proud of her chesty development
until the in her gym class had spited her in their
juvenile envy. The very same who had been her `best'
friends the year before ostracized her when her
ballooned over the summer. She was never invited to any
more parties, sleepovers, nor included in the gossip.
The on the other hand, although they pestered her a
lot, mostly just looked, drooled and jacked off. They were
immature and the image she presented to them made them
nervous. Even the quarterback of the football team fumbled
around her. She had been the chief actress in many a high
school fantasy and wet dream but ended up dateless on most
Saturday nights.
When she did date, they went one of two ways. Either the
boys were so overwhelmed with her beauty and nearness that
they creamed their shorts just sitting beside her, or they
would explode at her, and try to rape her. Those who
exploded at her also exploded in their shorts. None of the
immature bastards even tried to kiss her. It they had only
known....
Her home life had not been much better. Her drank a
lot, her fooled around a lot, or at least, that's
what the neighbors said. The times Karin had liked best
were when her was unconscious and her was
`out of town'. On those nights at least, although she was
alone, neither one of them would beat her or humiliate her.
So it was not surprising that when Mr. Saunders, a wealthy
businessman from the big city, showed an interest in her,
she was drawn to him. He had chanced to see her walking
home from school as he drove through her small town. He
had been looking for a service station. He was so
impressed he decided to stay and look into this statuesque
creature. He was a big man, tall and handsome. She looked
like she would be an ideal set piece for him.
When he approached her, he did so without fear or
nervousness. Not at all like the who stammered and
gasped. As she thought back, she figured she must have
fallen in love with him when he introduced himself. He
treated her so kind, and was the perfect gentleman on every
one of their dates. He didn't try to kiss her or have sex
with her or touch her during their whirlwind courtship.
Never once did she sense he had soiled himself. She took
this to be a measure of his self-control. In her short
life, Karen had never met a like Bill Saunders. Not
because he was a gentleman, intelligent and refined, but
because he was gay.
Bill's business was in a close-knit industry that demanded
a "normal" image and he desperately needed a wife.
His initial assessment of Karin was confirmed as he
researched her and the boring little town: Karin
was the perfect trophy wife. Beautiful and dumb, a no
one cared about.
He quietly gave her $10,000 cash at their
daughter's wedding to forget about her. No phone calls, no
letters, no visits, no contact at all. With that much
money for booze, it was guaranteed they wouldn't remember
anything for long.
Bill had insisted that Karin pack up everything that was
hers in her house and bring it with her when she
moved to the big city. He wanted no traces of her left
behind, no little articles or knick-knacks to stir long
forgotten memories in her minds of their one and
only child.
He needn't have bothered. Her had resented her
from her conception. Her striking beauty and aloofness had
only infuriated them more. They resented how plain and
ordinary she made them feel. They accused her of disdain.
Karin was already forgotten before she and her new husband
had left town following the small reception. Her
both drank themselves to death within two months. The
local banker, seeking to curry favor with the big city
businessman, contacted Bill about their deaths. Bill
didn't tell Karin, so she didn't go to the funeral.
The marriage had been six months ago and her brief, 6-month
marriage to the 55-year-old successful businessman was a
total failure. Nothing worked between them. No matter
what she tried, no matter how hard she worked to please
him, she always upset him. She couldn't relate to her
husband's work or his education. She never thought it
might not be her fault.
The fa‡ade of her fairy-tale marriage to the handsome Bill
Saunders had started cracking on their wedding night. He
had complained of a headache, of all things, that first
night. The second night he passed out drunk, something she
was used to. The honeymoon had ended abruptly with a well-
planned emergency in another city. He apologized, but was
sure she would understand.
Other business trips came up and he was away for weeks at a
time. When he was home, he came back from the office late
at night. She had been for six months and was
still a virgin. To her way of thinking, she had been a
failure as a daughter, she had been a failure in high
school and now she was a failure as a wife.
She even thought she was a failure as a woman. She had
realized her husband was early on, but thought she was
the reason for it. At first it was the pool who only
came to clean the pool when Bill was home. The job always
seemed to take two people, especially the part that took
them into the cabana out behind the pool. It wasn't until
she needed to turn off the pool filter one day and looked
for the filter equipment in the small outbuilding that she
found there was no reason for them to be in there.
Lately it had been the butler that didn't butler. Her new
home was a big house and she initially appreciated the
gesture from Bill to provide her with some help. She
didn't think twice about the butler moving into the
quarters off the kitchen. That's what a butler did. But
this one did more. And less. He was absolutely no help to
her around the house. As time passed, the relationship
between the three of them became tense. The normal roles
of husband and were mixed up helter skelter.
Karin became more and more isolated and alone. She had
nowhere to go and no one to turn to. She never went out,
she didn't drive, and she had no friends. She didn't know
anyone but Bill and the household staff. The cook only
spoke Spanish, the gardener was deaf, and the butler, well,
the butler resented her very existence. That had been made
very clear to her two weeks ago.
Two weeks ago, Bill and the "butler", Bruce, had surprised
her as she lay sunning herself by the pool. Bill insisted
that she maintain her youthful appearance and beauty. He
liked her to appear as if they had spent time on the
islands, so she spent as much of her time in the sun as
possible. As his trophy wife, she had the finest clothes
to wear, and, of course, the tiniest bikinis.
That afternoon, as she lay soaking up the last of the day's
light, the two had quietly sneaked up behind her and
overpowered her. She had been immediately blindfolded. A
thick hand towel had been stuffed, crammed in her mouth by
one of them. Bruce, she thought. Her arms had been pulled
hard behind her back as she lay struggling on her stomach.
Her assailant tied them with a piece of stiff twine or
wire. It was tied tight and cut deeply into her wrists.
There was no love or tenderness in either of the men's
actions.
She had been picked up, thrown over a shoulder, and hauled
like an rug down into the basement. There, they had
strung her up and proceeded to torment her as only two
mysogenistic were capable of.
Her hands had been re-tied from behind her back to the
thick pipes running overhead, leaving her feet dangling
about two inches off the floor. As tall as she was, her
feet didn't reach the floor to support her. They had not
bothered to take off her skimpy covering, but merely pushed
the tiny triangles of her bikini top up off her firm
and yanked the bottoms down around her thighs. Doing it
that way made her feel more exposed and naked than if she
had been completely nude.
Bruce, the sadistic butler, had started slapping her firm
tits with his hands. He had to reach up to hit her chest,
but he still managed to hit her hard. He was a wimpy,
emasculated, effeminate and was jealous of Karin's
femininity. He was especially jealous of her natural charm
and beauty and above all, her perfectly rounded tits.
He began to work her over, going from slapping them
side to side to using them as a punching bag, hitting them
straight on with his closed fists. Karin screamed into the
towel gag as the blows jarred her body. He was working so
hard that the sweat was running down, staining his silk
pajamas. Sadist that he was, he got excited beating up a
helpless woman. His erection tented the loose-fitting
pants until the tip slipped out between the buttons of the
fly. The short pink organ was highlighted against the
black shiny fabric.
Bill watched as Bruce tormented the stupid country
that he had married. That's essentially how he thought of
the cunt. Too dumb to boil water. But with her folks
gone, he figured he could be a respectable widower in a
year of so. No one would miss the bitch.
Until then, though, he figured he might as well get all the
mileage out of little wifey as he could. This whole
brutality thing had been the butler's idea. It hadn't
escaped his notice that it had been Bruce's idea that had
gotten him into this mess with the big Hong Kong bank in
the first place. Now it was the butler's idea to get out
of that trouble with the bank by prostituting his to
the bank's president. All they had to do was to get Karin
to go along with the idea. Bruce had convinced him that
beating the shit out of her was the only way to convince
her to follow through with it even if they weren't around
to make sure.
Bill watched the barbaric butler beat on Karin a little
longer. He wasn't sure but he thought he detected a subtle
change in the girl's reactions to the punishing blows. Her
screams had softened to moans and were coming less
frequently, but that could be exhaustion. Her pink nipples
seemed to be puffing up and darkening in hue, but that
could be due to the beating they were taking. He was not
an expert in female sexual responses - he had never had an
interest in it - but he thought he noticed moisture seeping
from between her flailing thighs. That one had him
stumped.
For her part, Karin had been taken by surprise by her
reactions. The blindfold confused her and she couldn't get
her bearings. She never realized how much she relied on
her sight. She wondered if perhaps they were just playing
a trick on her. Then she thought they were really
kidnappers, until they spoke to one another and she
recognized their voices. Why would her husband want to do
this to her?
The ropes around her wrists had hurt, but there was also
another deeper feeling building insider her she couldn't
quite put her finger on. It was like it was OK what was
happening. It was like security blanket, the feeling that
she was not in control. Whatever happened, she was not
responsible, there was no pressure on her to act in any
particular way. She couldn't screw this up. It was
comforting in a strange way and she relaxed and let it
happen to her.
She had gone limp as they had lifted her and allowed them
to hoist her over a shoulder. She didn't resist as they
had strung her from the overhead pipes in the basement.
She had blushed, unnoticed, when her and had
been exposed, but that blush quickly faded as Bruce, she
had guessed correctly, had started slapping and then
punching her in the and tummy.
The initial slaps had surprised her and the sudden pain in
her had made her scream. It was the only defense she
had left. The pain had quickly been replaced by
surprisingly intense pleasant feelings that zipped straight
to her cunt. The wonderful tingling had built with each
slap and punch of her tits. Tensed and primed by endless
hours of using her finger as her sole source of pleasure,
the virgin was quickly teetering on the edge of a
ripping climax. For the first time in her life, she felt
really alive. She was charged up. Something wonderful was
going to happen, she could feel it building in her sopping
cunt.
Whether Bruce sensed her impending orgasm, or whether he
just got lucky doesn't matter much, because just as she was
about to free fall over the edge, he punched the
defenseless dangling in her relaxed, untrained stomach
with two powerful jabs. The air was forced completely
from her lungs, squelching any possibility of her pending
orgasm. Bill stepped in to stop the raging butler from
doing too much damage to the gasping woman. They did,
after all, have to keep her in relatively good shape for
her `date'.
"My turn, Brucie. Why don't you rest a while?"
Bruce was in a blood rage and wasn't about to quit. All
the frustrations he had had all his life at having a female
mind and a male body were finally coming out. Anger at all
the teasing from the other kids. Anger that this was
his lover's legal wife. He turned to Bill, whining. "Just
a little longer, Bill. The bitch deserves it."
"No, Bruce. That's not the reason we're here, now, is it?
We can't be selling damaged goods to this client now, can
we?"
The mention of the banker calmed Bruce down. That mean son
of a bitch would make this beating seem like a ballroom
dance lesson. Bruce had worked for the banker up until
last year. The banker had fired him after it was
discovered Bruce had embezzled a lot of money from him.
More than a lot. Too much money for the bank to publicly
admit to, and still keep the confidence of its depositors.
Way too much for the banker to admit to the board of
directors and still keep his job.
Bruce had been well aware of the banker's reputation with
the ladies. The ones he dated always seemed to have
trouble sitting down - or even moving without a gasp of
pain, for that matter - after a `date' with him. After
talking with a couple of them, quietly, of course, Bruce
had discovered that the banker liked to tie up his
unsuspecting victims, then spank and whip them mercilessly.
Bruce had never known a to voluntarily go on a second
date with the banker.
Bill was not aware that the banker and Bruce knew each
other. Bill was the rich patsy Bruce was using to pay the
banker back for the money he had stolen. The money that
could be skimmed from the new building loan for the new
manufacturing plant should more than cover his losses. The
rest was just gravy for the banker.
Being the thorough that he was, the banker researched
all potential relationships before he made a move. Bruce,
the flaming gay, had been forced on the bank by the fucking
liberals and their EEOC policies. He had simply shown up
in his department with the access codes. Those idiots in
Personnel hadn't even done a resume check. By the time the
money was missing, it was too late to point fingers. It
was his responsibility by then. And he was pissed.
So when he finally did move to get his due, he applied the
screws to both Bill and Bruce. He had them right where he
wanted them. He had been quietly pressing Bruce to get his
money back, and then began blackmailing Bill when he found
out he was gay, and was that Bruce was living with him.
Butler, my ass...
He had seen Karin by the pool on one of his rare visits to
Bill's mansion. That day he had been there to pick up a
late payment, and his mood was foul. He had walked by the
huge windows that overlooked the pool, automatically
glanced out, a flash of color catching his attention. He
nearly stumbled over a chair as he had done a double take
at the sight of the beautiful near-naked creature lying
there. His research had not picked up this piece of
information. His eyes had glazed over, his heart beat like
a trip hammer and his cock swelled up like a bull in
mating season. He let the two faggots know of a way to
cancel the rest of the debt. Just one weekend with the
girl. Longer, if it worked out.
The two lovers couldn't agree fast enough to give him
Karin. Any way he wanted her. Bill didn't mention that
she was his wife, but it wouldn't have mattered to the
banker. They made arrangements for three weeks hence. She
would be moved to an isolated apartment, unprotected, no
alarms and no neighbors. Bill smiled coldly as he thought
of the perfect location. All they had to do was get her to
cooperate for the first part of the date.
Bruce thought that with the bitch out of the way and out of
the house, he could consolidate his position with this rich
businessman. For his part, Bill felt he had to protect his
business at all costs. Karin, to him, was simply an asset
he was finally able to put to use. The banker had
threatened to expose him to his more pious colleagues, and
he couldn't let that happen. They would drum him out of
business within a month. They wouldn't even need proof.
Just the rumor. God knows he'd ruined one of his more
pesky competitors that way and had passed on his share of
gossip that he was sure had no basis in truth. He was in a
precarious position, and he knew it. Karin was a write-
off. So was Bruce, as soon as this was finished.
So they ended up in the basement, with Bruce using Karin as
a punching bag to get her to agree to the deal.
Bill stepped up to the gasping girl. Tears leaked out
below the blindfold and streaked down her flushed cheeks.
Reaching out with both hands, he captured a bruised swollen
nipple between each thumb and forefinger. Somewhat
distastefully, he rolled them around, stimulated the hard
buttons until they puffed up even larger.
"Karin, I want you to listen very carefully. I need you to
do something for me. It's very important. If you don't
agree to do it, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to let
Bruce hit you some more until you do. Do you understand
me?"
Karin fearfully nodded her head in the direction of the
voice. She wasn't afraid of what Bruce might do to her.
She was afraid, because this was the most words he had
spoken to her since the day they were married. And he was
talking to her as if she were an adult, too. If it was
that important, she just knew she would mess it up.
"I want you to escort a friend of mine to a dance at a
convention. He is a very important and you will be
nice to him. OK?"
Again she nodded, puzzled. All this for a date?
Bill twisted her nipples viciously, threatening to rip them
off.
"I mean very nice, bitch. Do you understand what I mean?
You will do anything he wants, right? Anything!"
The tight twisting of her nipples sent Karin over the edge
she had been close to before the wind was knocked out of
her. Skyrockets of light burst in her head and her
gushed slippery fluids down her long tanned thighs. She
whipped her head back and forth in her ecstasy, screaming
into the towel. This was better than her fingers by a long
ways.
"Right, bitch?" Bill demanded again, emphasizing the
question with another sadistic twist.
Coming down from her orgasm, Karin weakly nodded her
agreement.
"What a fucking whore!" muttered Bruce, standing off to one
side. "A fucking good-for-nothing cunt!" He had wanted
her to resist. He had dreamed of her resisting, ever since
Bill had agreed to this bizarre technique.
Turning to Bill, he pleaded, "Let me give her some more,
just to make sure she understands. Please?"
"No," came the answer.
Bill looked at the hanging girl. He noticed the excessive
wetness between her thighs and poked an exploratory finger
up into her pussy.
Karin jerked spastically at the unaccustomed intrusion by
someone else's finger.
His manicured finger slithered between her slick puffy lips
and entered her virginal tunnel. Part way in, the tip
encountered a tough membrane.
A look of surprise crossed his face, followed quickly by
outright rage.
"You BITCH!" he exploded, "You're still a fucking VIRGIN!
I figured you would have at least gotten rid of it in high
school. Shit! You're too fucking stupid to have even done
that right"
He looked around in a blind rage, seeking something,
anything, to show her how incredibly worthless she was.
Spying the perfect object, he grinned wickedly. It was
just what he wanted. He stepped over to the cleaning
closet and pulled out a soiled, stinking plunger.
Pulling a condom from the pocket of his open robe, he
ripped opened the foil and slipped it onto the dirty wooden
handle.
Bruce watched the proceedings with excited bright eyes, his
stubby hardon bouncing with each beat of his rapidly
beating heart. This was going to be even better than he
had dared hope. He quivered with anticipation, his hand
lost in the folds of his pajamas as he stroked his puny
dick.
Bill strode back over to his suspended wife. He set the
plunger on the floor next to her. Reaching up he grabbed
the bottoms of her bikini and jerked the useless fabric off
her thighs.
"Bruce, hold her legs apart. We've got a block in the
plumbing and a helper to help," he said maliciously.
Bruce quickly moved behind the dazed and squatted
down. He wanted to see this close up. This should finish
the bitch. Raped by the plumber's helper. He grabbed an
ankle in each hand and spread them as wide as he could.
Karin was now struggling as best she could, but she was
tired. She had been hanging for almost 30 minutes and her
shoulders and arms were sore from the strain. Each weak
kick of her legs jerked her stressed joints painfully. It
couldn't be good what they had planned. She had never
heard such an evil tone, from anyone, much less her
husband. She suddenly realized she didn't really know this
man. She cried out fearfully, but it was too late. Her
strength was sapped.
Bruce didn't have too difficult a job to spread her shapely
legs and expose the target to Bill's advancing plunger. He
gripped her slim ankles tighter than he needed to, leaving
angry marks on them.
Karin was not aware that she was about to be mechanically
violated. She had heard the two talking. She figured
out that Bill was going to finally make her a woman. If it
hadn't been for his anger and tone of voice, she would have
been excited about it because she had waited for six months
for him to exercise his conjugal rights. And now he was.
She was unprepared for the sudden jab of the long hard
handle into her cunt. The unlubricated condom irritated
the sensitive tender skin in her cunt. After advancing
about two inches, the blunted head hit her hymen. She
screamed into the towel gagging her. The pain was
blinding, different than before. This just fucking hurt.
Bill nodded silently to Bruce, who tightened his grip on
her ankles. With a fierce hateful yell and a twisting
lunge, Bill shoved the handle forcefully into Karin's
virgin tunnel, forcing the handle of the plunger past the
thin membrane barrier. It parted with an almost audible
tearing sound.
Karin screamed into the gag in horror, almost freeing her
legs from the vicious grasp. White hot flashes coursed
through her body. Searing, horrible pain. This was awful.
The handle continued in until the serial numbers on the
condom covering the top of it were in her soft
hairs. Bill yanked the handle out, then jabbed the handle
in, then out, then in and out twice more. Satisfied that
the disgusting unused conjugal passage was now clear, and
his precious reputation protected, he set the
plunger down carefully on the basement floor. He wiped his
shit covered hands on her heaving tits.
Bruce and Bill untied Karin's hands and let her drop
heavily to the floor. Her rubbery legs wouldn't support
her. They left her lying there to come to by herself.
Bill also left the bloody rubber on the handle of the
stinking plunger. He wanted that bloody post to be the
first thing that she saw. He hoped she realized it for
what it was - her first lover.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
End of chapter
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