Actress Sex Story Sex Stories with Indian Actress - Galbatorix

Galbatorix said:

Training Samantha: Chapter 1 - The Introduction
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Samantha prepared for the day as usual. Out of bed extra early, a workout in the home gym, breakfast prepared to a tee as usual by the maid, a shower, and then up to change. Chaitanya had just come out of the shower. He still possessed the hard lean body that had attracted her a dozen years before. As she donned conservative, but expensive lingerie followed by a dress suit, he reminded her that his plane would be leaving in 2 hours, so they had to hurry.​

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As she put on her make-up and put up her hair, she remembered the love making session of the night before, the usual before one of his many business trips abroad. She had faked an orgasm to get him to stop pumping and cum. She felt slightly guilty, but then brushed it off as a necessary part of life. It was like their whole existence of late everybody smiled at the appropriate time, and said the right things, but it all rang hollow.
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Descending into the kitchen again, Neeraja was feeding the boys, 12 and 10, otherwise ready for school. Chaitanya gave them the obligatory line about their behavior when he was gone and then he and Samantha fed baggage into the trunk, climbed into the Mercedes, and headed for the airport. On the way, they talked about the mundane the countries he would be in this time, the vacation planned after school was out two months hence, upcoming events in the boy's lives, yadda, yadda. Then the turn-off. He gave her a perfunctory kiss, dug the baggage out of the trunk, and watched as she sped off heading for work.​

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After parking in her spot, she nodded to the girl at the front desk and ascended the elevator to her office. Her secretary was already at work: Type A efficiency personified in an attractive middle aged, body. Good morning, Mrs. Akkineni, she said as usual. Samantha nodded at the greeting, opened the door and entered her office. The blinds were already open and coffee was brewing in the kitchenette that served her office and the boardroom from the other side. The calendar for the day was reviewed, morning e-mails read and she went to work before her first meeting of the day. That was followed by a conference with some important customers and lunch with her executives. There they discussed a new strategy she had been working on to increase sales even more. The details were handed over to marketing to work out, with a preliminary report due in a week.​

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It was after six before she left her office building, a gnawing in her stomach reminding her that the salad at lunch hadn't amounted to very much. The Mercedes glided through traffic, she stopped at the bank to deposit some cash, and then into the upper middle-class home that was theirs. The boys were pretending to do homework while Neeraja bustled around the kitchen.

Samantha entered her office, removed her jacket, poured a drink, and started through the mail. Credit card offers, country club membership renewal, a letter from the IRS the IRS, that made her sit up. She opened the letter and read the summons. She and Chaitanya were to meet with an agent a week from Thursday, time and location given. She frowned, wondering what it was all about. They were to bring income statements, documentation of charitable contributions, and documents relating to Chaitanya's business, which had lost money for the past 5 years. He was to be gone for 3 weeks, so he wouldn't be back for the meeting.

She picked up the phone and called him. Finally getting though, as it was in the middle of the night in Dresden, she explained the situation to him. He didn't seem to think there was any problem, just routine, and he was sure she could handle it without him. Everything was in the files provided yearly by their accountant. She wasn't so sure, but was buoyed by his confidence. The IRS missive was pushed aside as Neeraja called her for dinner.

The days flew past with the work on new contracts her company was negotiating. Before she knew it, it was Thursday. She had taken the morning off so she didn't have to leave so early. She loaded the files requested into the car and headed for the Federal Office Building. Entering at 8:45 for her 9:00 appointment, she went through security, and was directed three floors up and to a nice office at the end of the hall. A very attractive secretary received her and asked her to be seated. 9:00 came and went. She fidgeted in her chair, glancing at her watch every few minutes. She got up and asked the secretary when the agent would be ready. She was informed that as her appointment was set up for 9:30, it should be starting shortly. Samantha looked at her notice and started to say something, but thought better of it, and returned to her seat. Finally at 10:05 a tall, well-tanned man entered the office and went through the door. It couldn't be the IRS agent, she thought, since a government hire wouldn't be able to buy that suit.

Five minutes later she was summoned into the office to be greeted by the suit. He was perhaps 50, with piercing eyes and an amiable smile. It was not at all like the bean counter she expected. For his part he just paused a moment and took her in. Her hair was dark, pulled back to leave bare an attractive neck. An expensive dark blue suit set off well-toned legs encased in hose Her face was determined with a full mouth and expressive eyes. She had long fingers with diamond and wedding rings. The skirt had a slit in the front and she tried to bring it together after crossing her legs. She tried again, unsuccessfully, and then ignored the leg above the knee as he glanced down at it, appreciatively.

Thank you for coming in today, Mrs. Akkineni. My name is Kyle Laughton. Mr. Akkineni won't be joining us?

No, he is in Europe on business. If we can move things along, I have been waiting for over an hour, she said briskly. I have brought the materials you requested.

Good. Let's get a few things out of the way. You and your husband are both 35 years old. Your address and SS numbers are accurate? She nodded. You are President of Royal Manufacturing with 120+ employees. Your husband has his own company called Ex/Im Consulting at your home address.

Yes, that's true.

I see you have paid proper Social Security taxes on Neeraja Kona, your housekeeper.

Yes, we try and obey the laws.

Do you have an appraisal for the painting you donated to the museum 2 years ago?

Samantha dug around in the folders and produced the document in question. He considered it for a moment. Yes, they are a reliable firm we will happily accept their assessment of the painting's value.

She relaxed a bit at his statement. Maybe this would go better than she thought.

He handed her the appraisal. Your income was about $435,000 last year.

That is close, yes

You make frequent bank deposits of cash in the 8 different banks and 2 Credit Unions where you and your husband each have accounts. As a matter of fact, I notice that you and your husband made an average of $2,000 in cash deposits every business day last year. It all stayed under the radar of the money laundering regulations and so was never reported. That amounted to about $43,000 a month and came in at $520,000, plus change, for the year. That was pretty amazing, given the fact that your husband lost $80,000 last year, and you didn't need to borrow any money.

I...I'm not sure, she responded slowly, trying desperately to think of something that might account for the cash deposits. We might have dipped into our savings, she said lamely.

Actually, you had such a good year, you moved a goodly sum of money to your account in Banco Santander Central Hispania in Spain, as you have for the past 5 years.

Her heart sank. How was anyone able to track their transactions, and what could have triggered this man's interest. Everything had gone so well for so long, that she had just accepted it as the way things were.

From Banco Santander, you transferred the money to Dresdner Bank CZ, and from there to your account in Bank Vontobel Cayman. Shall I give you the account number of the Grand Cayman bank?

She was crushed. But there was still a chance she could get out of the country. She had been told that the U.S. Government couldn't get at money stashed off-shore. He could see that glimmer of hope reflected for a moment in her eyes, and smiled to himself.

Now let's see. Your husband works with a dozen different foreign businesses. Most of his pay is deposited directly into the Grand Cayman account. Nice to keep those things away from Uncle Sam's greedy hands, isn't it? My records show many such deposits over the past 5 years, and none of it showed up on your income tax forms.

Samantha had fallen into a stupor, and just nodded. This was all going too fast for her to comprehend. He had her where he wanted her, and was ready to pounce.

I imagine you know that the U.S. government has no jurisdiction over accounts in Grand Cayman.

She looked at him quizzically.

Let me tell you a little about myself. I am sort of a freelancer, who does odd jobs for the bureau, although most of my time is spent with my own business ventures throughout the world. I take on 4 or 5 cases a year of my choosing for the IRS. My connections allow me access where there is none allowed through normal government channels. The CEO of Bank Vontobel Cayman in Grand Cayman is a close friend, and the managing director, Andreas Weck, has frozen your assets there as a personal favour. Your bank accounts here are frozen as well, by the way that is where I was before we met. The ones in Europe aren't worth the bother. From your case, I will earn 40% of what the government recovers in back taxes, fines, and interest at least $4 million. I have special talents that are highly compensated. The government prefers that to getting nothing.

Her last hope dashed, a tear of anguish found its way down her cheek.​

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I will turn my evidence over to the department tomorrow.

There was a chance, she thought, only a slim one, but she had to take it. If he hadn't turned over the evidence yet.... But what if you forgot all about this little indiscretion. We would pay handsomely for your help in clearing up government red tape.

What do you have in mind?

What if I were to offer you $5 million, no $6 million without Uncle Sam taking his percentage off the top.

You would be willing to do that?

Yes.

And where would you get that kind of money?

You would have to allow us access to the account in Bank Vontobel Cayman.

So that you could take the money and run, you mean, he said, his eyes narrowing.

She decided that he was no fool, and was not about to cross him. I'm sure we could work out an arrangement that would be acceptable to you, she responded.

So you are asking me to take bribe money so you can avoid jail and fines, he said.

It wouldn't be a bribe exactly. And we will promise to declare all income in the future.

He thought for a long moment. Then said, I will consider your request, although it might cost you more than you anticipate. Meet me for dinner tonight at Restaurant Athenian and I will give you my answer there. 8:00, don't be late.

Samantha let out a long breath and nodded. She gathered up her things and left the office.

Samantha Akkineni sat in her car for long minutes in a daze. Then she went to her office. She put her purse on the conference table and sat on the leather-bound couch. For 20 minutes, she just sat there, before going over to her desk. Pulling up the web site for the Grand Cayman bank, she punched in the account number and password. Everything came up as usual. She pulled out the book with all her account numbers and transferred money to one of them. After a few moments she read, transfer aborted, contact Bank Vontobel Cayman. She slumped in her chair, trying to think of a way out. The plans she and Chaitanya were using were her invention. They had started out small, but it had been so easy to get away with that they had increased the amount over the years. She picked up the phone and tried to call Chaitanya, but was unable to get through. She put in part of the afternoon and left early. A stiff drink followed by a massage and the steam room left her feeling some better. At home, she told Neeraja she would be out for a dinner appointment, then spent some time with the boys. From there she relaxed waiting for time to pass, showered, put her hair up again, put on evening make-up, and dressed, again in elegant, but conservative attire.​

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It was 10 minutes to 8 when Samantha entered the restaurant. The maitre d' took in her beauty, and the professionally tailored red suit and ushered her to the bar where the bartender offered her a glass of Black Tower, and imported Rhine white wine. This startled her more than anything else during the day since it was her favorite drink. She listened to the sounds of a jazz pianist in the background and looked around. No sign of him yet. She drank quickly, not savoring the taste as she usually did. Another glass appeared in its place.​

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The Maitre d' appeared again saying, will you join the gentleman at the piano?

Samantha followed him and saw Mr. Laughton playing the piano, eyes closed. She stood behind him and watched as he moved from one Gershwin tune into another all of which she liked. His improvisations were fresh and clean, but the tune was always there. Then he stopped and looked around, seeing her waiting. He rose and directed her to a table in an alcove, providing a bit of privacy saying, They don't have a piano player on Thursdays. She placed her purse on the table and sat. A waiter offered menus, which were waived away.

Kalemera, Kerie ke Keria. To Onoma mou ena Nikolaus. Ti tha fate?

In English tonight, he said. For appetizers, bring us tzatziki, teramosalata, and stuffed grape leaves. Your special soup after that.

Amesos, he nodded and left.

Samantha launched right in, wanting to get it all over with. Mr. Laughton, are you willing to accept my offer of $6 million in return for dropping your IRS case. I'm sure we can work out the details to your satisfaction.

He laughed, but the laugh didn't reach as far as his eyes. I told you this afternoon that I would require more than that.

He picked up her purse from the table and opened it before she could protest. He pulled out the tape recorder still running, and, with microphone dangling, walked over to a fish tank, and dropped it in.

Let me make the situation clear, he said sitting down. He pulled another recorder from his pocket and pressed play. She heard her own voice, But what if you forgot all about this little indiscretion. We would pay handsomely for your help in clearing up government red tape. What do you have in mind? What if I were to offer you $5 million, no $6 million without Uncle Sam taking his percentage off the top. You would be willing to do that? Yes. He pressed the stop button.

That is recorded in video as well so much easier to present evidence in court. So here we have you falsifying your tax records for years, and then trying to cover it up by bribing an IRS employee. The real question is what are you willing to do to avoid exposure, trial, and incarceration? It will wipe out your savings. Who will care for your boys while you and Chaitanya are in jail? Foster care? Have you ever been in a woman's prison? You will lose your job. Who will hire someone with your record when you get out?

She shuddered, images flooding into her mind. But he seemed to be offering a way out.

The hors d'oeuvres arrived. This is cucumber dip, these stuffed grape leaves, he said. She wasn't hungry, but ate mechanically.

What is your price, she asked already anticipating the response.

You, he paused to let it sink in. But the real question is not will you agree, but rather are you worth the money I would be giving up?

A ray of hope crossed her face. She could screw him as much as he wanted, and would do it very, very well for what she would be getting in return.

That seems fair, she said, knowing that it wasn't really. But how do I know you won't double cross me later?

You don't. But that is a chance you'll have to take. I make multi-million dollar agreements with my word, he said, eyes narrowing. It has never been broken.

It seems that you have all the cards, she said tasting the cucumber dip. Where do we go from here?
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I need to know a little about you first. Rule #1: When I ask a question, I will require a detailed, complete and honest response. Let's begin with what you are wearing.

This took her by surprise. A red jacket with scarf, white blouse, red skirt with matching shoes, and pantyhose. Oh, yes, and dolphin earrings and a red purse.

That is all you have on?

Well, I...

Go to the Men's bathroom, remove your panties and bring them back to me. And leave the damn pantyhose in the trash. When she looked at him in amazement he continued or leave the restaurant now. I said that YOU would be the price, but if you are unable to deliver that is your decision.

The Men's restroom?

If I have to repeat myself, I will get very angry. On the other hand, the guests here might enjoy the show at your expense. Let's see, what else could I have you remove?

Samantha glanced in the direction of the restrooms and moved quickly before he thought of something else. A man at the urinal looked at her as she entered. The ladies room is packed, she said going into a stall. Reaching under her skirt, she removed her pantyhose and then her panties. Leaving the stall she put the pantyhose in the trash and waded up the panties as best she could in her hand. She hurried out and back to the table, reaching under it with the hand holding the panties. He remained as he was with his hands on the table. Here, she said reaching farther. When he made no move she looked around and then put them in his hand on the table. He took them, put them to his nose and inhaled. She shuttered at the raw sensuality of the act and felt the heat rise in her as he placed them on the table in plain sight.

He reached under her jacket with his right hand and pinched her nipple through bra and blouse, then twisted. She stiffened, eyes wide, and let out an “aaaiii” almost before she could stop herself. Now I have your attention. Rule one was a detailed, complete, and honest answer to all my questions. Did you comply?

No, I guess not.

You guess not what? How should I be addressed? As one of your lackeys at work?

She thought. I'm sorry I didn't give a detailed and complete response, Sir.

That form of address is much more appropriate. What else were you wearing?

I also had on red panties with a high leg cut and a white cotton strip in the crotch and a red lace bra with full cups and a back closure, and French perfume. She tried to think if there was anything she had omitted. And my rings, one a quarter caret engagement ring and the other my wedding ring, both in yellow gold.

Rule # 2. You will never wear panties in my presence without my express permission. And you will never, ever, sit on your skirt. It will get all slimy, he said increasing the pressure on her nipple and pulling it toward him for emphasis.

Yes, Sir, she winced. The dark haired beauty glanced around quickly and partially rose so she could pull up her skirt in the back. Sitting back down she felt the seat against her bare skin and smoothed out her skirt in the front. He released the grip on her now tender nipple and she let out her breath.

Now where did we leave off? Oh yes, your attire. You are not having your period now so no tampon?

No, Sir, she said blushing.

When did the last one end?

Last Thursday, I think, Sir.

What is your bra size?

34 C.

His eyebrows went up.

Sir.

Waist?

26 inches, Sir.

You will throw out ALL your pantyhose as soon as you get home. Do you have any real stockings?

Yes, Sir​

Good, you will wear them from now on as a part of Rule #2. What is Rule #2 then?

I am not to wear panties in your presence without your permission, and I am not to sit on the back of my skirt. I will throw out all my pantyhose and wear stockings. If I may ask, Sir, should I wear stockings with elastic tops, or a garter?

You may ask. A garter is the preferred method.

The waiter had arrived with the Avgolemono soup. His eyebrow went up as he saw the red panties lying on the table, but he said nothing. Samantha reddened when she saw his eyes. The soup was delicious, although she didn't fully appreciate it. They ate it still munching on the appetizers. When they had finished Kyle leaned back and studied her. She became uncomfortable under his gaze.

Are you wet? he asked her.

What?

If you are not able to remember a simple request such as the proper way to address me then I will have to take measures to ensure that your memory is enhanced. I don't really think you are that stupid.

I'm sorry, Sir. My mind has been in such a whirl tonight. I'm sure I can do better, Sir, she said trying to sound deferential.

We shall see. Again I find that I am repeating myself. Are you wet?

I...I don't think so, Sir.

Reach down and run a finger through your pussy.

Samantha coloured as she reached under her skirt and dragged her index finger from the bottom to the top of her slit. She jumped slightly when it contacted her clit. Then she brought it out and held it up for him to see. They both saw the telltale signs of her arousal.

Smell yourself, he commanded her.

She stared at it for a moment, as if disbelief, and then raised the finger to her nose, inhaling the musky aroma.

Lick it off.

She tasted her secretions as ordered. She couldn't understand it, but she was getting all tingly – down there. While she had never tasted herself, she had certainly smelled her female odor and it hadn't had this effect. Why didn't he just take her? She had already told him she would please him.

The waiter reappeared, whisked off the plates and bowls, and then returned for the main entrance. Kyle ordered calamari with rice and a Greek salad, and the waiter glided off to attend to it.

Unbutton the top two buttons on your blouse, Kyle said.

Samantha did it, with a Yes, Sir.

Do you shave your pussy?

No, Sir. I do trim it, she responded knowing that even these personal questions had to be answered.

Rule # 3, your pussy will be kept free of hair at all times except for a little strip at the top. You will leave work early tomorrow and have it waxed at this beauty shop. They will be expecting you at 3:30, he said handing her a card.

Now just wait a minute, SIR, Samantha began, the color rising in her face.

Off to the Men's Room and remove your bra. Bring it to me in 3 minutes. Your may re-button 2 buttons and keep the jacket if you are on time.

He looked at his watch.

Samantha started to say something and stopped.

Yes, Sir, was all she could manage as she dashed away from the table. Three minutes wasn't much time for this. She tore into the stall and pulled off her jacket without even closing the door. Next came the blouse and finally the bra. It nearly fell into the toilet as she laid it on the seat. Then back on with the blouse without even tucking it into her skirt, a middle button and a bottom one. Then the jacket and she raced off not even trying to conceal the bra. She was out of breath when she appeared at the table again holding the red bra with other dinners wondering what was going on. Here, Sir, she said handing it to him. Does everything meet with your approval, Sir?

He nodded, 2 minutes and 54 seconds, and placed the bra next to the matching panties. But you have made a mess on your chair. Wipe it up, he said handing her a handkerchief.

She wiped at the embarrassing pool, and then sat, pulling up the back of her skirt as she did so. She studied the silverware in front of her wondering what other people in the restaurant were thinking of her. She hoped none of them knew her. On the one hand he was handsome and self-assured. He never raised his voice or was offensive to those around him, yet his presence was commanding. She knew that in another circumstance she would have found him very attractive. He had taken her on a roller-coaster ride ever since this morning everything well planned out, it seemed. It was dis concerting that he was pushing buttons in her feelings she never knew existed, and she found her reactions to what he was doing very scary. She knew she could take whatever he chose to dish out, but her own mind was betraying her. The card was still sitting on her plate where she had left it. She picked it up, looked at the address, and put it in her purse thinking about the chore ahead of her tomorrow.

How will I explain my lack of hair to my husband? He has tried to get me to do that before and I have always refused. He knows that I hate looking like a little girl down there, as well as the itching and soreness.

I'm sure you will think of a response, was the unsympathetic answer.

The main course arrived and the wine was poured. She liked squid, and the rice was well prepared. The salad was without lettuce with a tasty Greek dressing. It was a good choice on his part as always, it seemed. As they ate, he engaged her in general conversation, pouring wine as the glasses emptied. Soon he had her laughing and she almost forgot the circumstances that brought her here.

Dessert was a Greek pastry and coffee. As Niko came to clear the dessert dishes, Kyle said, Niko, you have been very helpful tonight. Samantha has been learning a few lessons in proper deportment, Haven't you Samantha?

Yes, Sir, she responded.

Before we leave, Niko should have a proper tip. Open your blouse for him.

She hesitated and looked into Kyle's eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. Then seeing the hardness there, she undid the two remaining buttons. Grasping blouse and jacket, she opened them far enough for him to see her nipples before closing it.

Did I ask you to close it? a cold voice inquired.

No, Sir, she said opening it again and holding it open with eyes squeezed shut.

Farther, he ordered, noticing that a blush was washing over her upper chest. When she complied he said, What do you think of them Niko?

Very beautiful, if I may say so.
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They do have the slightest bit of sag.

That is just because they are full, said the appreciative waiter.

Would they look better with nipple rings or nipple studs, do you think?

I would have to think on that, was his studied reply.

She will come back again for your decision, Kyle said. You may close your blouse now, but leave it unbuttoned. Check, please. As they stood, Samantha looked over at the bra and panties. Kyle shook his head and they headed for the door. The Maitre d' wished them well. As they walked into the parking lot she looked at him expectantly. He ignored her leading the way to his Jaguar and opened the door for her.

My car, Sir? She said sitting down.

Is already at your house, he said to her amazement and slid into the driver's seat.

He reached into her blouse and took a naked tit between thumb and finger. He rolled it back and forth until a moan escaped from her mouth. Then he pinched harder and harder until the tears came. Only then did she remember and pull up the back of her skirt. This was not going to be as simple as she had anticipated. He had thoroughly humiliated her in the restaurant. Was this part of her punishment for cheating the government? Or was there some other ulterior motive in all this she couldn't understand?

He started the engine and drove through the city. Do you remember the 3 rules I have given you? he asked?

Yes, Sir, was her reply.

Slide down in the seat and masturbate for me.

She had always hated that word, but she was resigned to her fate and said Yes, Sir. She pulled the front of her skirt up, trying to keep herself partially covered, and rubbed her finger up and down the slit. Then she pushed it into herself, hearing an embarrassing squish as she did so. She couldn't remember ever having been this wet before. She looked over at him and started to rub her clit. Her eyes closed, feeling the sway of the car in motion for a few moments, before blocking even that out. Although she was rubbing very slowly, she couldn't believe how soon she was on the verge of an orgasm.

Stop, Kyle said in a deep voice. She sat there with eyes closed for a minute before coming back to consciousness. Rule #4. You may cum only with my permission. Do you understand?

Yes, Sir.

What does the rule mean?

That I cannot cum when I want to cum. I will have to wait until you tell me to, Sir?

And if I order you to cum?

I will obey you, Sir, she said, although her heart wasn't quite in it.

Very good. You may continue.

Samantha began stroking her clit again and shut her eyes avoiding his gaze. Soon she was close to cumming again. She stopped rubbing to keep from breaking rule #4.

Did I tell you to stop? he asked crossly.

No, Sir. But if I don't stop I'll break rule #4, and I know that would displease you, Sir.

You are right, you will be punished most severely if you break that rule. You must learn self-discipline, Samantha. Your mind controls your body and not the other way around. Your nipple hurt a few minutes ago, but your mind told it that it must be endured, and so it was. You will cum when your mind tells you to cum. And who controls your mind?

I suppose you want me to say you do, Sir.

It is your choice. We all have choices to make in life. You can submit your mind to me or not as you choose. Although every action you take or don't take is also a choice made by your mind. Why have you chosen to obey me tonight?

I had no other choice.

Of course you did. We often make choices we would prefer not to make because of another overriding interest. Does that mean we should not make them then?

No, not necessarily.

So what do you chose tonight? Will you cum when your body wants to, or when I want you to?

I will obey you, Sir. Which I guess means that my mind is yours too, Sir.

We shall see whether that is the case or not. Continue.
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She did as he said and was soon thrashing about on the seat next to him. Before long, she was out of her mind with lust. Her moans turned to pleading. She begged Sir to let her cum. She would give anything for the orgasm she had stored up all night. He smiled as he watched her writhing beside him.

You may stop, he said as he pulled into her driveway and turning on the overhead light. She seemed to be in another world and continued the ministrations on her clit unaware of his command. Stop, he said firmly and loudly. She obeyed, breathing like a distance runner with perspiration running down her face. Her blouse had parted over the last 15 minutes and he admired her breasts again, flushed with arousal and nipples hard as pebbles.

You are home, he said. Have you told your husband about our meeting?

She shook her head to clear it. He knew we had a summons for today. But I was unable to reach him to tell him about the meeting this morning. God was it only this morning?

Good. We will keep it that way for the time being. And now I need relief, he said moving his seat back and unzipping his pants.

The look in her face was wild as she moved across to put her mouth on him. She hadn't had sex in a car since college. Oral sex wasn't one of her favorites anyway, although she did it once in a while, usually as a reward for something Chaitanya had done. She went partially down on him with her mouth and jerked him with her hand. He didn't force her this time but let the events of the day, and her warm mouth, do their work.

When she could tell he was getting close, she looked up and said, You can take me if you want.

Not tonight, he said pushing her head down to the task at hand.

She had never swallowed before, but instinctively knew that it was required of her. Then he was shooting gobs of cum into her mouth and she was swallowing as fast as she could, choking on the thick liquid. Her cunt tingled and she wondered why he didn't cum inside her. She knew she was attractive, so it couldn't be that. He gave her the same handkerchief she had wiped the chair with earlier, and she wiped his cum off her face.

If you are really turned on, you may bring yourself off in the house tonight, he said condescendingly.

No, I am fine really, she lied. She had never been one for bringing herself off , preferring to cum with her husband. That had been hard with his travel schedule the past few years, so she had just gone without.

I will contact you when I want to meet again.

Yes, Sir. And thank you Sir for not reporting us, she said truthfully.

Whether or not I report you remains to be seen. I will continue to evaluate your progress. You just barely passed tonight.

Yes, Sir. I know I can do better than I did tonight, she said wondering for the umpteenth time what he had in store for her, and even more, how she would respond. Her response to what he made her do was more troubling to her than what he had made her do.

You may leave now, he said, and she opened the car door to get out.

You will need this, he said handing her the purse. And if you ever get it into your head to try and entrap me the way you did with the tape recorder, your sons will be without a mother.

She caught the snarl in his voice and knew instantly that it was no idle threat. She buttoned up her blouse, fished the keys out of her purse, and went inside. She checked to see that the car was indeed in the garage, made a stiff drink, and carried it upstairs. She sat on the edge of the bed, took two large swallows, choked, and set the glass on the night table. Damn him, she thought. Damn him to hell. She pulled her skirt up and started to massage her clit again, the feelings as strong as before. Then she thought of his words If you are really turned on, you may bring yourself off in the house tonight. Angrily she pulled her hand away. She was not going to let him control her any more than she absolutely had to, and masturbating just wasn't her thing. Disgusted with herself, she undressed, took a shower, and spent a restless night.
​

​

​

To Be Continued​

​

Click to expand...

Galbatorix said:

Hello Fellow Readers and Desifakers,

I am planning to pen down another story, I have some actress in my mind, but also would like to get your views on the same.

The celebrities or stories that I have in mind are as follows.

1. Aishwarya Rai and the Russian Oligarch
2. Becoming a Slave to my student (Featuring Sneha) - [This is half done in one of my old threads, I would completely recreate them here]
3. Priyanka Chopra the Slave amongst the Jonas Family

Would appreciate if your guys could select a topic or suggest some alternatives. One point to note is that I mostly will write only if the celebrity is well known and has so many pictures or fakes readily available.

GBX

Click to expand...

Galbatorix said:

Hello Fellow Readers and Desifakers,

I am planning to pen down another story, I have some actress in my mind, but also would like to get your views on the same.

The celebrities or stories that I have in mind are as follows.

1. Aishwarya Rai and the Russian Oligarch
2. Becoming a Slave to my student (Featuring Sneha) - [This is half done in one of my old threads, I would completely recreate them here]
3. Priyanka Chopra the Slave amongst the Jonas Family

Would appreciate if your guys could select a topic or suggest some alternatives. One point to note is that I mostly will write only if the celebrity is well known and has so many pictures or fakes readily available.

GBX

Click to expand...

Galbatorix said:

Hello Fellow Readers and Desifakers,

I am planning to pen down another story, I have some actress in my mind, but also would like to get your views on the same.

The celebrities or stories that I have in mind are as follows.

1. Aishwarya Rai and the Russian Oligarch
2. Becoming a Slave to my student (Featuring Sneha) - [This is half done in one of my old threads, I would completely recreate them here]
3. Priyanka Chopra the Slave amongst the Jonas Family

Would appreciate if your guys could select a topic or suggest some alternatives. One point to note is that I mostly will write only if the celebrity is well known and has so many pictures or fakes readily available.

GBX

Click to expand...

Galbatorix said:

Hello Fellow Readers and Desifakers,

I am planning to pen down another story, I have some actress in my mind, but also would like to get your views on the same.

The celebrities or stories that I have in mind are as follows.

1. Aishwarya Rai and the Russian Oligarch
2. Becoming a Slave to my student (Featuring Sneha) - [This is half done in one of my old threads, I would completely recreate them here]
3. Priyanka Chopra the Slave amongst the Jonas Family

Would appreciate if your guys could select a topic or suggest some alternatives. One point to note is that I mostly will write only if the celebrity is well known and has so many pictures or fakes readily available.

GBX

Click to expand...

Galbatorix said:

Hello Fellow Readers and Desifakers,

I am planning to pen down another story, I have some actress in my mind, but also would like to get your views on the same.

The celebrities or stories that I have in mind are as follows.

1. Aishwarya Rai and the Russian Oligarch
2. Becoming a Slave to my student (Featuring Sneha) - [This is half done in one of my old threads, I would completely recreate them here]
3. Priyanka Chopra the Slave amongst the Jonas Family

Would appreciate if your guys could select a topic or suggest some alternatives. One point to note is that I mostly will write only if the celebrity is well known and has so many pictures or fakes readily available.

GBX

Click to expand...

Galbatorix said:

Training Samantha: Chapter 10 - A Trained Dog​

Samantha looked at herself in the mirror and didn't even know the woman who returned her stare. The nipple studs oozed eroticism, but the padlocks bespoke something smoldering underneath. Her breasts were mottled black and blue and she felt the remnants of Neeraja's discipline when they so much as swayed.
​

She breakfasted with the boys in her robe, then dressed to meet her husband. She wanted to look attractive but had to wear a couple of layers of clothing so she wouldn’t be too obvious since wearing a bra was out of the question. She sighed, wishing the nipple studs didn’t show against her bandeau so. The boys were excited to see their father. She had mixed feelings though, and a shiver went down her spine. A sense of foreboding, which had nagged at the back of her mind, now surfaced as the time to leave approached.

Before she knew what had happened, they were at the airport and she and the boys were smiling and waving at Naga Chitanya as he appeared. He hugged her and the boys and they headed for home after retrieving his luggage. Everyone had something to say as they sat to a late lunch prepared by Neeraja, and Naga Chitanya spent time afterwards in the boys’ rooms catching up with what he had missed. Samantha’s mind was filled with thoughts of the past couple of weeks and the sea-change it had meant for her. She had a hard time remembering what she had been before that time. She held off as long as possible then went to find relief from Neeraja. The maid seemed a little pissed at having to do it, but held the glass as Samantha, humiliation washing over her, began to pee.

Stop, the command startled Samantha out of her reverie. She struggled to comply, knowing that her maid was only following orders, like she was. At least she assumed that was the case. But it still galled her, nonetheless.

Piss poor muscle control today, I see, she smiled at her own joke. I'll have to make a note for Mr. Kyle.

Samantha ground her teeth in anger, but didn't dare let it show. Neeraja made her start and stop 10 times to work the underused sex muscles , as she called them.
​

​

The family spent the evening together. Naga Chitanya regaled them with stories of his travels. His wife didn't have much to tell about their weeks apart, although she had taken quite a journey all her own. The boys were excited about the end of the school year. Their talk about school brought back memories of her sons' schoolmates she had met in the park. She shivered at the thought, and hoped Neeraja was right when she said they would keep quiet about their adventures with her. It wasn't like teenagers to keep something like that to themselves. She couldn't imagine what would happen if word of it got out among the school community. But the whole incident was so bizarre, even in retrospect, she didn't think anyone would believe it without Neeraja's confirmation. Neeraja. There was another puzzle. She couldn't understand the change in her behavior from the maid she had once known.

That night, Samantha changed in the bathroom and came to bed wearing a long flannel nightgown. She had put adhesive tape over the studs in her nipples to cover them up and moved carefully so the padlocks wouldn't click together. Naga Chitanya had already stripped and frowned from the bed as he saw her. He reached for her as she slipped under the covers, sliding inside his reach as he tried to caress a breast.

It’s that time of the month, sorry, she told him. I know it's been a long time for this but it will have to wait. The lie came easier than she thought it would. She had gotten good at excuses and after all, this mess was a result of him trying to avoid paying taxes. It’s so good to have you home again, Hon. She kissed him and rolled over to go to sleep. Naga Chitanya’s day had started very early in Europe, but he lay awake for a while, puzzling at the lack of his usual reception, before finally dozing off.

The morning found Samantha up early. She hesitated, deciding whether she could take the humiliation, then went in search of Neeraja, did her daily exercises, and ate breakfast. She pulled clothes from her walk-in closet and went into the bathroom to shower, locking the door. There she examined her sore breasts as the water cascaded over her and decided it would be many days yet before the telltale signs of her beating were gone. She shivered as she remembered it, and knew she would do anything rather than go through that agony again. A few minutes later, Naga Chitanya tried the door, and finding it locked, knocked on it. She heard him, but ignored his knocking. Minutes later she emerged, dried and semi-dressed to find him sitting on the bed.

You have never locked the door before, he frowned. What gives?

I...I started doing it when you were gone. Neeraja came in with towels unexpectedly one day and I didn’t like my privacy invaded, she lied. What do you have on for today? she said changing the subject. Contacts to make here in the U.S. mostly. She finished dressing and put on her face for the day as he talked.

Your new look suits you, her secretary said as she came into the office. The guys around the company have all commented on it.

Oh? She stiffened.

And, if you don't mind me saying it, you seem somehow happier.

She relaxed, Thank you, Mrs. Davis .
​

​

Samantha’s morning went well in spite of the discomfort of sitting on the bigger butt plug. She felt confident again in her own territory. After what she had faced, she could handle anything. It was almost as though she was finally at ease with who and what she really was. Her secretary came in and reminded her that she had an appointment to meet with Betty in the afternoon. Samantha frowned and remembered it was Monday. It was her weekly waxing appointment. How her secretary knew she had this meeting was beyond her, but she chose not to ask.

After a few phone calls and e-mails, she had a meeting with a couple of her executives. Her vice President, Peter, glanced at her appreciatively when he entered her office. She had already seated herself on the chair so she would be following Rule #2 without being obvious when she sat down. As he bent down to shake her hand, she saw his gaze lower to her bra less breast. She looked down following his eyes, and saw that the front of her blazer had sagged open. Her right nipple was pushing against the uncovered blouse, and, of course, standing at attention.

Wow, he stopped and checked himself, his eyes wide, you look very nice today. She blushed knowing what he must be thinking. He noticed her short skirt and parted legs and took a seat on the couch directly opposite her. She had always seemed so professional there at the office, but he noticed she only tried to turn her parted legs a little to the left instead of closing them as he smiled across at her. Maybe she wasn't the cold bitch everyone took her for.

They were soon joined by the Head of Marketing, Jim Thomas, who she vividly remembered from her show at the strip club. She shook her head to clear it. He also sat opposite on the couch, but didn't have a good a view as Peter did. The head of sales, Ed Jones, was last. He shook hands with her and smiled the broad salesman smile. She kept her shoulders back to tighten the blazer across the front as he looked down. He sat in the chair to her left, and she shifted her legs back to the right between the chair and the couch. Their appreciative stares made her blush, but she was pretty sure they couldn’t see all the way up her legs. She pulled herself together and was again in command as the meeting shifted to details of her new initiatives.
​

​

She worked through lunch and 20 minutes before her appointment, left the office and went straight to the beauty shop. There she was taken in the room where she stripped, had the butt plug and locks removed and the wax was applied. The hair removal wasn’t very painful now that there was almost nothing to take off but she definitely had sore spots there from Neeraja.

Your lips are very puffy. You haven’t been diddling yourself, have you? asked Betty.

Samantha could feel the color rise in her chest at the humiliating question. She wanted desperately to ignore the unwanted question, but smiled and said, No, Dear. Afterward, the lotion felt good, too good perhaps, as it was rubbed in and her lips pulled together as the locks were reapplied. Her usual butt plug replaced the bigger one and as it beeped, she was thankful for some slight bit of comfort.

Back at the office, she hiked up her skirt before sitting down as was HIS rule, and went to work with her legs apart. It proved harder to concentrate in the afternoon. She called home and told Neeraja she would be working late. She did not want to have to face Naga Chitanya yet and sat and thought about her new life. She had struggled against it, but now, the word Master took on a whole different meaning than any she had ever imagined, and made her instantly wet. My God, what will become of me? she asked herself.

The next days flew by. She avoided contact with Naga Chitanya as much as possible and found excuses to go to bed late. This was difficult as Naga Chitanya generally went to bed late, and got up similarly. After the first morning, she showered in the downstairs bathroom after exercising. Samantha had not heard from Kyle in days and jumped whenever the phone rang. The excitement though was still there every time she did something that reflected an order he had given her. His presence permeated her day and it was as though he was a part of every action.

Naga Chitanya, on the other hand, found all this very frustrating. He and his wife had grown apart the past few years, even he had to admit that. He had numerous women waiting in his various ports of call as he traveled, and found the variety and spontaneity to be exciting. But he also valued his family and deep down still loved his wife. He knew their sex life had petered off with his traveling and her work, but sex before he left or when he returned was always a part of their marital ritual. He had tried a couple of time to initiate sex since returning, but had been rebuffed each time.

Thursday afternoon her secretary buzzed her that she had a call from Mr. Laughlin.

Hello, Sir.

Hello, Slut. Are you behaving yourself?

Yes, Master.

You will come here this evening.

Her pulse rate quickened, and her voice dropped, Yes, Master.

Six o'clock sharp.

I will be there, Master.

I would like you to bring something with you, however.

There was a sharp intake in hear breath. Yes, Master?

I would like some erotic pictures of you.

You have seen all there is of me, Master, she said thinking of how she had displayed herself at various times for him.

Be that as it may. You will bring still pictures and movies of you. They will be taken in your office. You will ask the photographer to direct your poses to be as erotic as possible. You DO know what I find erotic?

Yes, I think so, Master, she replied, wondering how she was going to pull this one off.

And you may cum twice, but not until you have asked and received permission from the photographer.

My God, Master. Right here in my own office?

Is there a problem?

I No, Master. Yes, Master. I have padlocks .

Oh, yes. Ask Mrs. Davis to give the envelope she has to the photographer. How you arrange it, I don’t care. But I had better be impressed with the results. Ask him for the raw tapes and memory sticks—no editing needed. An hour shoot should do it, I think.

Click. She put the receiver down harder than usual, thinking of what the evening would bring, then asked Mrs. Davis to bring in a phone book, and call Neeraja to tell her she would be home late. The phone book yielded a variety of photographers, a few advertising erotic photo shoots. She concentrated on them first.

She called Fantasy Photos and asked the owner for an erotic shoot. He would do one in his studio next week, but didn't shoot in people's homes, he said. The second asked if it was a lingerie shoot, and declined when she told him it would involve less clothing than that. She blushed when he said he took photography, not pornography. She looked at the clock and saw it was 3:45. She had to hurry to be at Kyle's at 6:00. Her sixth call yielded a hit. He could put together his gear and come right over and take the pictures and movies, but he would charge her $500 on such short notice. She gave him the address and breathed a sigh of relief.

She alerted Mrs. Davis to his arrival, and told her that she could leave for the day as soon as he arrived.

Ian MacGregor was a tall, broad, Scotsman, with sideburns clear down to his jawbones. He pulled a suitcase on wheels behind him, carried one case by the handle, and a third was tucked under his arm.

Good afternoon, M’dear, he said striding up to Mrs. Davis. MacGregor Studios at your service. I have some photographing to do for Mrs. Samantha.

Mrs. Samantha is expecting you. And, I am to give you this, she handed him an envelope.

Thank ye, Lass, he tucked it under his arm noting the strange inscription ‘To Open The Secret Garden’. He nodded toward the office door with raised eyebrows and she waved him in.

Mrs. Samantha? he asked opening the door.

Come in Mr. MacGregor He put down his cases and sat in the seat she indicated.

We will need to get a few things in order, Lassie. This is a most unusual request. He looked around at the large, plush office, and the be-suited Corporate President staring back at him wondering if he had only imagined her requirements.

As I said on the phone, I would like you to take ss..., she blushed and had a hard time getting the words out, sexy pictures of me, uh, for a friend.

How sexy? Lingerie? Swimsuit?

Nnnno. Even more sexy than that.

Scandalous sexy, you mean?

Yes, I suppose so.

He nodded. I will set up 3 movie cameras and take stills with my Nikon. Here is my contract. $500 as I said on the phone. You are to get the tapes and memory card when I'm finished. It also absolves me from any sort of suit for sexual harassment. Can't be too careful these days.

Samantha took the offered document, scanned the legalese, and signed it.

I suppose you know the poses you want taken, he said as he busied himself setting up tripods and affixing cameras and lights.

No. I'm supposed to leave that up to you. He popped in a tape, adjusted the image in the viewfinder, and started the camera running. Two cameras were focused on the desk, one from his right and a second just to the left of center, while the third was set way back to the left to take in the whole scene. He picked up his Nikon.

Where do you want me?

Tell me about this friend of yours? What sort of photography would he like? he asked eying her wedding ring.

Very erotic.

How erotic?

He will be most displeased if these pictures don't thoroughly excite him. Should I get undressed? she asked blushing.

No. Let's start with you seated at your desk, like it was a typical workday. Slowly unbutton your blazer. Click. Click. Click. Now your blouse. More clicks as she complied thinking it would have been easier to just strip and get it over with. Lean to the left so your blouse will gap open. Her nipple, forced out through the front of her tip less bra, was unveiled as she leaned her elbow on the desk. Her nipple studs glinted in the lights as he shot several pics.

Now pull your blazer and blouse to the sides of your, uh, to the sides of your bra and pick up a pen and pretend to write a memo. He clicked pictures as she parted her clothing and began writing. No, that's no good. Remove your bra, please. He adjusted the closest video camera for a better angle as she complied. Wha...What happened? as he looked at the black and blue breasts the bra had exposed.
​

​

She hesitated, knowing that the cameras were rolling and would pick up her required answer. Her shoulders sagged and she hung her head. I...I...I was punished, was all she could get out.

Well no matter now Lass. He tried gallantly to brush it off. Let's get a view of your delicious legs. Put them up on the desk.

She thought to herself, Master is not going to be very happy with just a look at my nips. In a minute. Let me do my nipples for the camera. She pinched and rolled them until they were as hard as rocks noting that her nipples weren't the only things hard in the room. She was ashamed that she had to do this in front of a stranger, but still she wanted HIM to be proud of her obedience. Then, pinching as hard as she could, she pulled them out, stretching the tit flesh, trying to keep a smile on her face through the pain.

When she released them, he asked, Now the legs?
​

​

Not quite. she reached into her drawer and pulled out a ruler. He looked on incredulous at first as she hit first one then the other, finally bringing the camera into action again as he came to his senses. The wooden ruler gave a sharp sound as it connected with the studs either side of here nipple that almost drowned out the slap it made on her flesh.

Ah, Lassie. I see your friend is a man of refined tastes. Her nipples were pushed in violently with each stroke of the ruler, only to spring back out reddened, but harder than before.
​

​

Samantha had been irritated at having to call and set up the appointment, but it had also made her horny thinking about it and waiting for him to arrive. She squirmed in her seat willing the fire in her loins to erupt and give her some much-needed relief.

Lean back in your chair wi yer hands behind yer head, blouse open. OK. Legs crossed on the desk.

I'm sorry. I'm not allowed to close my legs. Would HIS torment of her never end? She swung her legs up on the desk and leaned back with her legs open, knowing he could see everything. He marveled as her stocking tops came into view. Most women these days didn't give a hoot for what they looked like in that part of their anatomy. This one obviously did. At first, he thought she just had jewelry on her bald cunt, but as she pulled up her skirt at his urging, it came into full view. What was that peeking out down below?
​

​

Beautiful, was all her could manage at first, clicking off pics right between her legs. Look up at the ceiling as though you were thinking about your latest deal. He enjoyed the juxtaposition between the stuffy corporate executive and the wanton woman he now saw beneath her exterior.

Let's keep the locks on for now. You can take them off in a few minutes.

I...I'm sorry. I don't have the key for them.

Yer all locked up and can't open them? Yer kidding?

No. Her countenance fell.

Yer husband...

Damn, she wanted to fudge it but this was going on the camera for HIM to see. He doesn't have the key either. Shame rushed over causing her to shiver.

Then how... the question was left hanging. His eyebrows went up as realization set in.
​

​

My friend said he would take care of it for the shoot, but I don't know how.

The answer now obvious, he shut his gaping mouth and moved to continue the shoot. Reach down and toy with the locks. His concentration on his work didn't detract from the constriction that had developed in his pants. He was forced to adjust himself for comfort, a move not lost on his model. He picked up a flash and zoomed in as she played with the padlocks. The moisture oozing from her slit was proof positive of the effect this was having on her.

He decided to play with her a little. He moved the tripod to a position directly in front of her spread legs. Focusing on her bald cunny, he said, squeeze yer cunt muscles, Lassie. Again. Keep doing it. A moan escaped from her lips before she could squelch it. Click. Click.

And underneath you is?

My butt plug.

I see, he really didn't. Pull it out a little for the camera, he wanted to see what the thing really did look like. She pulled and pushed it as he took a series of pictures.

Good. Now a few natural light pictures at the window. Wonderful. What a natural beauty, he thought, as he snapped away. Now over to the daven wi ye.

Do you want me to undress?

It is much more sensual with you partially clothed. Just your blazer and blouse off for now.

He had her pose sitting on the arm of the leather couch with skirt pulled all the way up, bent over with her skirt around her waist showing her butt plug, and with her foot up on the coffee table. He appreciated the way her breasts swayed as he posed her. Now put your blouse back on and sit on the couch. There in the right corner. She sat, pulling up her skirt and he adjusted her blouse to the sides of her breasts framing their perfection. Mess up your hair a little and raise your right knee. Ah, that opened her up nicely, he thought. Then as he looked at the padlocks, he remembered the envelope. Retrieving it from his gear, he tore it open. There was a miniature key and a note.
​

​

I appreciate you helping with Samantha's training. Only you may take out the padlocks for her pictures. Make sure you take some in the outer office. When you finish, put the locks back in and bring the key to 329 Elmwood Place and I will give you $500 extra for your inconvenience.



Come with me, he said moving to the door.

No, I can't, her voice went up an octave, panic setting in.

It's in the note.

Oh my God, terror masking her usual beauty.

Maybe we don't have to, concern in his voice.

She hesitated, that thought appealing. No we have to, but let's shoot fast. She pulled the door open a crack and was relieved to find Mrs. Davis had gone for the day. Where do you want me?

Start in your secretary's chair. Samantha pulled up her skirt and sat down, thankful she at least had her skirt and blouse on. Nice. Stand with your foot on the chair. She had to pull her skirt up to comply. Push the chair a little away from you and pull your skirt up to your waist to show your locks and, and the other. Good, now to the front of the desk. She glanced furtively at the windows either side of the door as she moved. Sit on the corner with your legs open. Grab your blouse and hold it wide open. Good. Turn and pull up your skirt to the waist. Legs apart. Lean on the desk. Now look back at me and smile. Great. Blouse off.

Is that really necessary?

But he continued as though she hadn't interrupted him, Lean over the desk so your breasts are hanging down.

We need to be finished and out of here, her mind shouted as she complied.
​

​

Now to the file cabinet. Open the top drawer and rest your hand on it. Samantha moved quickly, still nude from the waist up, wanting to be out of the office. She kept looking at the windows. Smile. Almost done. Put your blouse back on and sit in the guest chair there, he pointed. Left leg on the arm. Yes, that opened her up nicely to reveal the locks and the plug. That's enough here. Samantha almost fell as she launched herself out of the chair, heading for the security of her office.

Sit back down as before, Lass, and I'll remove the locks. She resumed her seat on the leather couch. He knelt, took the tiny key and removed one miniature padlock after the other, needing to pinch her outer lips so he could slide each through the fettered flesh. He had detected her female odor before, but now it filled his nostrils. Here was one HOT woman. He marveled at the smoothness of her flesh, and the sticky moisture covering the locks, her lips, and even the tops of her thighs. Feeling the heat rising from her he didn't ever want this moment to end. He set the locks on the coffee table and moved it out of the way. She could feel her lips slick apart, her wetness glistening in the light. A shiver ran down her body, knowing that HE would soon see these pictures of her.

Now about the plug...

That stays in, she sad with finality. He nodded.

Ian MacGregor, of MacGregor Studios, move the tripods again and then took pictures from every angle. That about wraps it up, I think, he said although hoping there would be more. I'll put the locks back in.

No. There are a few other shots my friend would like, she said reaching down and pulling her cunt lips farther apart. FLASH. FLASH.

Very lovely, he was in awe. FLASH.

She took a deep breath and extended her right middle finger and touched her clit. It sent a shockwave through her. She hadn't realized how close to orgasm she had been. He adjusted both side video cameras and took the third off its tripod to use in place of the still camera. This action was too good to miss.

Samantha began to stroke herself slowly, gritting her teeth to keep from cumming. So close. So close. Are you ready for me to cum now? she blushed at having to ask the question.

Not yet, Lass. He wanted to make the most erotic moment of his life last. She was right on the edge and stopped rubbing to keep from cumming No, don't stop, he told her.

She moaned as she again began to rub circles around her engorged clit, although a little slower. She reached with her left hand for the closest nipple and squeezed it as hard as she could. The pain both raised her level of excitement and kept her from cumming for the time being. The leg on the floor moved farther apart of its own accord and her knee pushed into the back of the couch. He could see the muscles of her thighs, framed by the garter and stocking tops, contract as she rubbed. The entire bottom of her butt plug was in full view.

Keep your hand over to the side so I have a nice, clear view.

Please, Samantha moaned, no longer caring about her dignity.

Huh?

Please, May I cum?

In a minute, he said, suddenly enjoying her agony and his control. Rise up off the couch with your arse and stroke faster.

She did as he commanded, gasping for air. She grabbed her sore breast and squeezed hard, counting on the pain to help her hold back. The camera looked right into her.

Please, Sir, she gasped. Pleeease.

Faster.

A growl came from her lips, her face distorted, trying to hold back until given permission. Please, please, please, I'm begging you.

Aye, was all he said.

I can cum?

Aye, Sam. Do the deed.

She muffled a cry and came against her finger, the other hand clawing at her nipples, first one side, then the other. Her cunt already raised off the couch, shuddered again and again with the force of the orgasm and jumped at the camera as though to impale itself on an imaginary cock. A bright blush ran down her body. Second after second went by as Ian watched the spectacle in his viewfinder. Sweat gathered about his temples and a rivulet ran down his sideburns. Samantha felt her head swim and let go of the breath she was holding with a gasp. Her finger had finally slowed down and her legs were shaking when she felt a second one coming on. Her clit had gone hypersensitive from the first orgasm, but she knew she had to cum again for her Master. She pulled her finger off and cried in desperation, Please, Sir, may I cum again.

Aye, coom, Lass, she rubbed furiously with three fingers. Raise yerself up high and coom for Ian.

She shook her head from side to side. Noooooo, she lifted her pelvis even higher than before off the couch, stretching her taut legs to the max and holding herself there as her contractions shook her cunt. The camera caught the flutters of a vagina trying to milk a nonexistent cock. Her fingers were a blur on her clit. She couldn't hold back the shrieks that came from deep in her throat. He moved the camera up to catch the fingers trying to pull the nipples off from her mottled breasts. Then to her face, contorted in the throes of her much needed orgasms before returning to her agitated fingers.

Finally, when she thought she was going to die from the sensation, she collapsed on the couch, eyes squeezed closed, gasping, thank you, thank you, thank you, over and over. Her whole body was covered with a sheen of moisture. Ian looked down and saw a spreading wet spot on the front of his trousers. He picked up his Nikon, and shot dozens of pictures of her laying there in post-orgasmic bliss. Her color was indeed rosy and her features had relaxed into softness.

Samantha opened her eyes, realizing where she was and said shyly, Sorry, I sometimes get carried away.

Sorry, Sam? You’re the most amazin’ woman I hae e'er laid eyes on, ye are. I envy yer lover, he said with conviction. Now are we done?

Yes, thank you.

He fed the ends of the padlocks gently back into the holes in her cunt lips and closed each with a click. He ran his finger over the bottom of the butt plug. Then he went to put his gear into the cases, taking out the tapes and memory stick she had paid for. I should get something fer me before givin’ the tapes tae ye, he said with a twinkle in his eye. But a deal's a deal. He gave her one last look, set them on the coffee table, and turned to leave.

Come here, Ian, the low voice just reached his ears.

He turned to see her running her tongue around her lips suggestively.

Ye don't hae to Sam, I were jus maakin' sport, his deep voice resounded through the still room.

But I WANT to, she quietly but firmly. Her smile broadened as she sat up.

He wasn't so sure he could get it up so soon after cumming in his pants, but he needn't have worried. He was almost hard again when she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled him deep into a wet, warm throat. She tightened her lips and massaged his balls through his pants. Her head moved up and down on him. It was only a minute before she felt the first burst of cum hit the back of her throat as she was pulling back. She swallowed when she could, her cheeks hollowed as she stroked the length of his cock with her mouth, sucking every drop out of him. When he had plopped free, she licked her cum-coated tongue around her lips again. Mmmm. Thank you, Sir, and was shocked at herself when she realized she meant it.

She looked at the clock and saw it was twenty to six. He had been there a little over an hour. I have to go, she said pulling out a checkbook and quickly writing him his check.

There's nae need o' payment, Lass, he said uncharacteristically.

Ah, but a deal's a deal, she smiled impishly before grabbing for her clothes and dropping her tip less bra in a drawer. She pulled on clothing, heedless of the blouse hanging out of her skirt.

They walked hurriedly to the elevator, then out. If yer e'er in need o' anithin', Ian MacGregor will be at yer service.
​

​

Thank you, Ian. Her heels clacked as she raced to her car, and sped to Kyle's, hoping she wouldn't be late again. For once traffic was with her. She pulled into his drive a couple of minutes to six, grabbed the evidence and sprinted up the sidewalk, unbuttoning her blouse. She tore off her blazer and blouse. When the button on her skirt caught, she ripped it off, and piled her skirt with her other items of clothing. She was just pushing the buzzer when she heard the clock inside chime the hour.

She stood in garter belt and stockings, catching her breath, waiting to be admitted. She knew it was a part of a game that she be forced to wait outside but it always rankled nonetheless. There was more traffic this time of day and she was sure she would be seen by passing motorists. A car pulled into the driveway and she saw Ian MacGregor behind the wheel.

Shit. she reached for the bell again, then pulled her hand back when she remembered the last time she had been impatient.

Ian walked up the sidewalk eying her nude body appreciatively. We're waitin' fer someone Lass?

She tried to look nonchalant and straightened her shoulders under his gaze. It will be answered momentarily. Her nipples were still red from their recent trauma, but he noted that her skin was flawless.

Ye maad it in time? he seemed to understand her predicament.

Yes, thank you. Time—that reminded her that she hadn't removed her watch. It was flung on top of her other clothing.

I tae it that yer friend lives here? She nodded. Luky maan.

Just then the door opened by Joanna, nude that is except for her collar. Come in, she said holding the door as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Samantha handed her tapes to Joanna, gave Ian one look, then went to the center of the room and assumed her position as he watched in astonishment.

You are the photographer, I take it, it wasn't a question.

Aye, Lass. You be requirin' the key, he held it out.

Thank you, she handed him 5 one hundred dollar bills. Did Samantha provide you with any sort of a tip for your consideration in providing services at such short notice?

He looked uneasily at Samantha, who nodded slightly without looking up. That she dae, Lass, and a right good job she dae o' it too.

Good. You'll be wanting to go, she opened the door.

'T’wer nae trouble a’tall, he bowed ceremoniously and left.

Joanna left the room with the evidence that Samantha had completed her required task. She knelt alone and thought about the fact that she hadn't washed up after the photo shoot. Her heart was finally slowing down. She was pleased with herself for accomplishing HIS task. And her clit jumped unexpectedly when she thought back over the past hour. What more could he ask, she wondered? Was it possible for the intense orgasms of the past few weeks to continue? She knew that Kyle would know the answer to that as he knew everything else about her sexually. That had been scary at first, but now there was some solace in knowing that while she was flying blind, he knew exactly what he was doing. She thought of Naga Chitanya back at the house and wondered if she could ever be satisfied with the normal sex life she had grown to despise.

She sensed, rather than heard Kyle enter the room. Well done, his baritone voice startled her. Damn, why did she feel good that she had been an obedient submissive. Position 2. Samantha scrambled and turned gracefully, laid her head on the floor with her butt in the air, and pulled her ass cheeks wide apart in a fluid motion. He pulled her butt plug out and pushed it home. Position 3. She stood, hands on the curve of her buttocks, elbows touching, breasts thrust out, and spun facing him.

Joanna, he hardly raised his voice but she appeared. Illustrate position 4 to my slut. Joanna bent over backward, her skin stretched taut until her hands reached the ground. Then she moved her left foot out until her cunt gaped open.
​

I...I don't think I can bend backwards like that, Master. But I can do it from the ground, she remembered vividly the details of her last back bend.

Do it, he said, and motioned Joanna up.

Samantha lay on her back and inched herself up until her stomach was high in the air. She shifted her left foot outward as far as it would go. Kyle stepped between her legs and unlocked the padlocks and removed them. Then parting her lips he spoke as though recording the data for a scientific experiment, her clit is still engorged. Must have been a decent orgasm. He smiled to himself noting the drool still being produced and stepped to the side.

Samantha hated his inspections. He noticed everything and he was so so right about everything. She shivered as he slowly ran his fingers from her knee to her thigh, then up over her tickle spot to the side of her crotch to the flat of her stomach. He toyed with her navel at the top before going down the other side over a be-studded breast, down over her throat, down farther to stroke her face before tangling his fingers in her hair, hanging about the floor.

Nice, he mused. So soft. So open. So vulnerable.

Turn over and kneel, he told her. Joanna position 5. She lay down in a smooth motion on her back, legs spread, and held open her pussy lips. Notice that her cunt is facing me. The outside edges of her feet are on the floor pointing at me. But her feet are not quite touching.

Yes, Master. That word carried so much meaning when she said it.

Now you, he said motioning for Joanna to rise and leave. Samantha took the required position, memorizing every detail. You just have the top of your cunt lips open with one finger on each hand. Joanna had three fingers spread on each side to open up the entire cunt. She let go and pulled them back open with six fingers and her two thumbs so he could see everything. Kyle reached down and inserted his forefinger. He rubbed the top of her vagina in circles, noting its rough, bumpy texture—a sure sign of her arousal. A moan escaped from her lips, her eyes closed. Kyle smiled to himself. She was coming along just fine.

Get your collar.

It's outside, Master. He nodded and she went to get it from her purse on the porch. Damn, she had left her purse in the car. Halfway down the walk, she looked to find three boys on the sidewalk staring at her. One nudged his friend without looking away and she heard him ask, I thought women were supposed to be hairy down there. His friend nodded, So did I. She never broke stride though as a wave of shame rushed over her and she continued on, retrieving her purse. Taking it with her, she ignored them and pulled out the collar she needed. The door had been left ajar and she soon reached the sanctuary of the living room. She knew the three boys would never again walk past this house without pausing to look and remember.

Position 3, she handed him the collar, stepped wide as she brought her hands back. Part your cunt lips. You know how I like it. Keep them wide apart. She used 3 fingers from each hand, but the wetness oozing out made them hard to hang onto. Kyle fingered her. The boys seeing you turned you on, I see.

She didn't want to say anything, but knew better than to keep quiet when she was spoken to, or to try and lie. Yes, I guess so, Master. Her fingers kept sliding off and she gripped them tighter each time she had to reposition her fingers. He put his fingers to her mouth and she licked them until they were clean.

Position 6 is simply kneeling on all fours. I think you can manage that without Joanna, don't you?

Yes, Master, she knelt down. The collar was buckled into place, snug, but didn't restrict her breathing. Her hair hung down around her head, and he tied it up so she could see.
​

Joanna, he never raised his voice, but she appeared. He attached the leash to her collar and began to walk. She was right with him all the way. He stopped; she stopped. He turned left and right, and she was beside him. Samantha watched from position 6, and was amazed at Joanna's ability to keep with him. He led her up until Joanna's head almost touched that of Samantha. You see how it's done. At no time was the leash ever tight. The proper distance from me is 8 inches. He unclipped the leash from Joanna’s collar and she was dismissed with a wave of his hand. There is 18 inches from my hand to your collar. The leash is 30 inches long. You are to keep it slack at all times. Your head is to be straight in front of you looking down. That will give you the ability to watch my feet, or the feet of anyone I give you to, from the corner of your eye.

Neeraja. to her astonishment the shoes of her maid appeared in front of her. Kyle handed her the leash. Give her about 15 minutes of practice, not too difficult. This is her first time. They spoke of her as thought she wasn't even there.

She will need some correction, unless I miss my guess. Samantha could see a black rubber pointer digging into the carpet at the end of a round stick.

Undoubtedly. Samantha, you will obey her as you would me.

Yes, Master. Damnation, she said to herself.

Neeraja took a step forward and Samantha followed after a short delay. Neeraja stepped backward a step. Samantha had started going forward when Neeraja had lifted her foot and the leash tugged at her neck before she could get back beside her. Swish! Crack! The teacher's pointer came down smartly on her left buttock. The pain left her gasping. Neeraja said nothing, but the lesson was clear. She stepped forward again and her trainee jumped to follow. Then back a step, forward a step, back a step, forward two steps. Samantha was jerky in following along, unlike the practiced smoothness of Joanna. She thought she was getting the hang of it when Neeraja took a step to the right. She cringed when she felt the leash snap taut and Neeraja met her expectations as another Swish! Crack! echoed in the room. Her knees were getting sore now, even though the carpet was soft. I'm not a dog, I'm not a dog, she repeated over and over to herself, but she kept a watchful eye on Neeraja's shoes.
​

​

Heel, the command was obvious. Neeraja moved in front of the CEO of a mid-sized corporation. What does a bitch do when she's in heat? she asked. Samantha looked at her dumbfounded. Neeraja laughed, She humps. She angled the pointer downwards toward her boss. Do it. Hump my pointer.

There were tears in Samantha's eyes as she moved forward on her knees until the middle of the pointer split her pussy in half. She rose up dragging her coos up about a foot before letting out a scream. The dry wood had been too much friction for her clit. Keep going, I didn't tell you to stop. Legs quivering she moved gingerly down the new slime-covered stick. Plenty of lubrication. She began humping the pointer as ordered. She didn't want to feel anything from this humiliation, but she wasn't able to control her body. She tried lifting herself a little so there would be less friction, but Neeraja noticed it and lifted the stick more upright, jamming it into her cunt.

I can go to work on your breasts again if you don't want to play humpy with me. Maybe we should do that anyway?

Mistress, it isn't necessary, she pleaded and increased both her speed and the pressure on the stick. She could feel the stick first on one side of her clit, then the other. When it mashed right on her clit, it was like an electric current went through her.

That's enough, the pointer was pulled back. Yuk, nasty. Lick off your scum.

Shamefacedly, her student licked up, down, and all around. Some had even dripped down to the rubber tip. Then it was back to working on her training, with a crack and a flash of pain occasionally breaking the stillness of the room.

Heel, she stepped around with the pointer again. Hump. This time when Samantha inched herself forward on her knees, she extended herself up and started from the top and slid down slowly, coating the stick with her juices. Remembering the previous threat, she worked herself up and down with alacrity. Neeraja cradled a black and blue breast in one hand. My we did make a mess of these, didn't we?

Yes, Mistress.

I don't think you were able to wear a bra for a couple of days.

No, Mistress. Her breathing was becoming increasingly labored, both from the work her knees did extending herself, and from the excitement that spread from her cunt.

They're sore now?

Only when squeezed, Mistress.

Kyle entered the room and watched for a full minute. Then he stepped behind Samantha, lowered his pants, and squeezed lube on his half hard cock. He pulled the butt plug out and tossed it aside. Then he gripped himself, gave it a few strokes, and positioned himself under Samantha as she moved up the stick. When she came back down, she felt him enter her. He held himself there, feeling the exquisite sensations of being in the ass of a beautiful woman. And, she was doing all the work. The slight pain at first gave way to pleasure she had never thought she would have there.
​

​

Kyle reached around and cupped her tits, claiming her nipples between thumb and forefinger. He used the pressure to guide her up and down at just the right speed he wanted. It was very slow to start with and he felt every part of his cock as it slid through her sphincter muscle.

Neeraja looked down at the woman in front of her. This had to hurt the pride of a woman of her breeding and social standing. Her puss was dripping watching Kyle put her through her paces, and she intended on getting satisfaction.

Sir, Neeraja said. I don't think this puta should be allowed to cum since I won't have anyone to bring me off.

That seems only fair, he manipulated her nips to go a little faster against him.

Samantha was worried about the consequences if she couldn't hold out. Master, I know you like the feel of me cumming on you. You've mentioned before how my butt squeezes your cock. I think the word you used was delicious.

That is true, he answered. But, fair is fair, unless you are volunteering to help Neeraja out.

Joanna could...

Joanna has gone out on an errand.

It was the classic dilemma. No, thank you, Master. I'd rather not, she was breathing faster.

As you wish.

If she comes without permission, I want her tits again, Neeraja spat.

Yes, that seems reasonable, Samantha shuddered as he spoke.

How could she keep her body from betraying her. The stick was doing its duty all too well as she slid up and down its length. Her Master's stick wasn't making things any easier either. To add to her travails, Neeraja took the opportunity to raise the pointer just slightly, putting more pressure on her sensitive area. Please, God, no, she shouted in her head. What could she do to stem the tide that threatened to overtake over her? She tried to think of something else, but failed. She bit her lip until it bled, but she felt her body continuing to rise toward orgasm.

Her Master squeezed her nips a little more in his excitement in increased the tempo a little more. He was ramming her down on his cock now and she could feel him growing. But she also knew her had tremendous staying powers. She wasn't going to make it. The image of her trial on the table at home with Neeraja flashed through her mind. Please, she begged. They said nothing but continued to watch her struggle. Higher and higher she swirled. Please, she pleaded. She had done all the work up to now, but Kyle drove up against her, punishing her asshole as he pulled her against him.

She was broken. Please, I'll do it. I'll suck her off. Please let me cum.

Kyle raised his eyebrow and looked at Neeraja. I want the slut to tongue my ass first. He nodded.

I'll do it. Anything. I'll do it. Please let me bring off Neeraja. Please.

Neeraja released the one button at her waist with a deft finger and the skirt dropped to the floor. She turned and stepping over the pointer, brought her ass directly in front of a panting Samantha. Tongue it, Slut.

The high and might executive, the one who people cow-towed to at the office, extended her tongue and ran it up the gamey asshole in front of her. It was made more difficult by her movement on the stick, but Kyle was now meeting her halfway as he buried his pole to the hilt.

Get your tongue inside, Slut. I'm not feeling you much.

She was on the edge now. She gripped Neeraja's cheeks both for support and to open them to the nasty task she had to perform. She parted them with her thumbs and pushed her tongue past the sphincter and she wiggled it around like she knew Neeraja wanted.

Kyle increased the pace more. Samantha got into a rhythm of swirling her tongue around the rim, then penetrating as far as she could go, and swirling her tongue around in there. A guttural sound came around a tongue unable to speak pleading that she be able to cum on the 2 sticks exciting her. Over and over her incoherent plea increased in pitch and intensity until she was screaming into the ass in front of her. Kyle had experienced her precum spasms and was close himself.

Cum, he commanded.

Neeraja dropped the pointer as Samantha went over the edge, leaving her cumming like a rag doll, on his cock alone. She stepped forward and turned to watch her boss scream through her orgasm, eyes shut tight and head flopping. She almost envied the intensity or her orgasm, as mindlessly, she let everything go.

Kyle was ready now. Her spasms had taken him where he wanted to be. His hands cupping her tits slowed the pace as he reached the peak and he ordered, Finger yourself off again for me.

Her clit was bloated, and now outside its protective hood, she was unable to touch it directly. She rubbed above it as quickly as she could to cum again for him, heedless of the fact that the poor little nubbin wasn't ready for another go-round yet. The smell of sex filled the air.

I...I'm... was all she could get out before it hit again. She felt him get bigger and then explode as the contractions in her ass did him in. Each time he pulled her back onto him, another wad of cum would explode from his balls until he was empty. He held her there for a full minute, pulled back against him, his wilting pole enjoying the aftershocks that rippled through her body.

He pulled out and she fell on her side, cum drooling from her back hole. Her eyes were closed, breathing still labored, mindless, just feeling. When she came to her senses minutes later, she opened her eyes and crawled over to her Master to clean his cock. Once a distasteful chore, she now savored the taste that spoke of the raw sex they had shared.

Neeraja was sprawled naked on the couch. When she saw that Samantha was finished, she said, I want you to suck my nipples first.

To Be Continued


​

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Galbatorix said:

Hello Fellow Readers and Desifakers,

I am planning to pen down another story, I have some actress in my mind, but also would like to get your views on the same.

The celebrities or stories that I have in mind are as follows.

1. Aishwarya Rai and the Russian Oligarch
2. Becoming a Slave to my student (Featuring Sneha) - [This is half done in one of my old threads, I would completely recreate them here]
3. Priyanka Chopra the Slave amongst the Jonas Family

Would appreciate if your guys could select a topic or suggest some alternatives. One point to note is that I mostly will write only if the celebrity is well known and has so many pictures or fakes readily available.

GBX

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Galbatorix said:

Greetings Desifakers,

This thread is all about stories on Indian Celebrities (mostly south). Some of the stories would be long and deep, but some would be just simple and fun. Most of the stories are taken from different sources on net and modified to match the celebrities. And there would be some stories that are written by me. You can go through the index.

Warning:
The stories may seem real, but they all are a work of fiction. No actor or actress are a part of this. Each story will have its own story code and prior warnings. If you are not into some of the stuff, please skip. Thanks and keep enjoying.

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The Devil said:

2nd Story
Continue that Story or Recreate with Sneha and Anushka Sen as her mistress

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The Devil said:

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Anushka sen's Ass hole

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Picsart-22-05-28-17-47-35-847 hosted at ImgBB

Image Picsart-22-05-28-17-47-35-847 in LOKESH DENEKONDA 1's images album

ibb.co

https://desifakes.com/threads/anushka-sen-nude.21865/

https://desifakes.com/threads/anushka-sen-nude.21851/

1653305116779 hosted at ImgBB

Image 1653305116779 in LOKESH DENEKONDA 1's images album

ibb.co

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