Message-ID: <28234asstr$978653403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "Louis Nessus" Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 03 Jan 2001 02:12:54.0873 (UTC) FILETIME=[AED64C90:01C0752A] Subject: {ASSM} Nessus RP: Wicked Game 2 (FD CB Mast Magic) Date: Thu, 4 Jan 2001 19:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, RuiJorge This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy scenes of graphic sexual activity. Please, if you are under the age of 18, or if you will be offended by such material, use your intelligence and read no further - delete the file. Otherwise ....enjoy! The Wicked Game Chronicles: Book 1. The Devil and Mr Brownlow. (Part 2.) by Nessus FemDom Mast Humil CB Magic I was surprised when Judy answered the door. She was stunning in a simple short glittering black dress with her long legs encased in shimmering black nylon. Coolly, she looked me up and down. "Not bad," she grinned in her soft southern accent. "Hello," I said nervously. "I'm Christopher Brownlow." "Judy Daimon," she said, extending her hand, which I shook gently. "Now," she said in a business like tone. "This is the deal. I'm your date, someone you've just met and I'll charm everyone. And that's it. Ok?" I nodded and my eyes drifted down her long legs. "Got it?" she repeated and I dragged my gaze up to her smiling eyes. I blushed a little when I guessed she knew I'd been looking at her legs. "Yes, of course. Understood," I said quickly. "Shall we go? I have a taxi waiting downstairs." My eyes fastened onto her legs as she swung them into the car. Shutting the door, I scrambled around to sit next to her as the driver pulled away from the pavement. Her dress had ridden up and I furtively stared at the expanse of thigh in black nylon. "How long have you been in New York, Chris?" she asked. "Only a month, actually," I said, flushing under the scrutiny of her sparkling eyes. "Do you want me to call you Chris or Christopher?" "Most people call me Christopher but I don't mind." "I'll call you Chris, then. Makes us sound like a couple. Ok?" "Yes. Of course." She crossed her legs and my cock tingled at the sound of nylon against nylon. I opened the car door for her and we climbed the foyer stairs to make our way to the ballroom of the Chairman's house where the function was being held. A large group of formally dressed people mingled and milled around the entrance, drinking champagne while talking loudly. "Ready?" I asked, butterflies swarming in my stomach. "Let's go, partner," she smiled and we moved through the group. Judy was fantastic, charming all and talking knowledgeably about a range of subjects to the group at our table. After a while, I started to relax. I bumped into Troy who was talking to a tall man next to the bar. He gave me a thumbs up sign when he saw Judy The Chairman, Will Macintosh, rose and gave a short expert speech and we all laughed in the right places. I saw Lucy Duivel seated amongst other senior execs at the main table and I thought she looked at me but I dismissed the notion as absurd.. She wouldn't know I existed, I thought. We stood around for coffee and I was surprised to see Will Macintosh bearing down on us. "Will Macintosh," he boomed, shoving his hand towards me while staring at Judy. "Christopher Brownlow, sir," I stumbled while he almost crushed my hand. "Where do you work, Brownlow?" he demanded, smiling at Judy who smiled broadly back at him. "Marketing, Sir," I said. "May I present Judy?" I stuttered, realising that I couldn't remember her last name. "Daimon," she finished, taking the Chairman's hand briefly. "Can I show you around, Miss Daimon?" he asked. She slipped her arm through his. "Wonderful," she said. "I'll be back soon, Christopher," she said over her shoulder as I watched them walk away with the crowd magically parting for them. Relieved to be on my own for a while, I wandered through the crowd. A waiter came up to me. "Mr Brownlow?" he asked. "Yes." "You're wanted upstairs. Third room on the right." He moved away before I had a chance to ask him who had sent the message. Maybe it was Judy and she wants a little fun after all. My heart quickened and my cock stiffened as I pushed through to the stairs. The crowd thinned out as I moved up the stairs until I was on my own walking down the hall. I found the third door and I stepped inside. I reeled in shock when I saw Lucy Duivel leaning against a small table, smoking a cigarette in a gold cigarette holder. Her blonde hair was fashionably styled and she positively glittered in an expensive red dress. Up close, she was radiantly beautiful and a perfect representation of all that was female. "Ms Duivel," I stammered in shock. "I'm Christopher...." "I know who you are, Brownlow," she said, looking me up and down disdainfully. "Do you always bring hookers to company functions?" "Hooker?" I gaped. "Ms Duivel....." "Hooker. Prostitute. Whatever. I guess you have hookers in England. Answer the question," she snapped. "Ms Duivel, I had no idea......" "Crap!" She stared at me coldly as she stubbed her cigarette out in a black glass ashtray. "You know I can destroy you, Brownlow," she said calmly. "You like New York don't you?" "Of course," I said quickly. "I can have you kicked out of the states so fast your nose will bleed from the speed. Maybe I should tell Will he's been walking around in front of the staff with a hooker on his arm?" "Ms Duivel, I had no idea. I thought she was a companion for the evening and...." "She may wear a dinky little number with rhinestones all over it but I'm guessing she's got nothing on underneath it. She's a hooker, all right." My cock stirred at the image of Judy naked under the dress. "Ms Duivel," I begged. "I'm terribly sorry. What should I do?" "What ever I say," she said, bluntly. "Of course," I quickly agreed. "Drop your pants," she ordered, an amused look creeping into her eyes. "Ms Duivel," I gasped in shock. "Did I hear correctly?" Did you say..." "Drop your pants. That's it." "Why?" "I want to see your cock." "Ms Duivel," I stammered. "I, uh...." "Look kid, this is real simple. I want to see your cock and I get what I want. If you don't drop your pants in ten seconds I'm out of here. I'll tell Will and everyone else you tried to put your hand up my dress. And you've brought a hooker to the dinner. Your choice, kid," she said calmly as I gaped at her. "Ten, nine," she stared counting down. I had no choice. I fumbled with my pants, unzipped them and they fell around my ankles. "European under pants. Nice. Lose them," she ordered and I pulled them down until they too puddled around my shoes. "Lift your shirt up," she said and, blushing, I pulled my shirt up so my genitals were completely exposed. She left me that way for a long moment and, to my shame, I felt my cock harden. "Get it hard," she snapped. "Ms Duivel," I protested weakly. She laughed. "Are you going to try to tell me you don't jerk off? Get it hard. Now!" Surrendering, I gripped my cock with my right hand and started the familiar motions as my cock quickly hardened into a full erection. "Stop," she ordered and I let my hand fall to my side. I blushed as she smilingly studied my hard pulsing cock. "Good," she said and gathered her bag. "You better get dressed," she said as she moved towards the door. "I'd hate for someone to find you like that." With a laugh, she opened the door, stepped out and closed the door behind her. Shocked, embarrassed and humiliated, I stuffed my hard cock into my tight underpants and pulled my pants up. My heart was pounding and I had no idea what had just happened but I was so terribly aroused. End Part 2. _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+