After the Conference

Literotic asexstories – After the Conference by Escargo,Escargo
How had I got myself into this predicament? Here I was, naked, blindfolded, stretched with my ankles kept apart by a spreader bar, attached to bolts in the floor and my arms linked to ropes suspended from the ceiling.

I had been attending a conference in London on the spread of infectious diseases all week and had arranged to spend the weekend in the city to meet up with one of my school friends. However, Sally had called on the final day of the conference to say she had just been told she had to be in Singapore for work on Monday and had to leave on Friday evening, leaving me at a loose end until my flight back to Glasgow on the Sunday evening. I’d looked into the options available to change the booking but they were all ridiculously expensive so decided that I would spend the time doing some sightseeing.

I had intended to miss the Friday morning wash-up session but now decided I might as well go — it was always an opportunity to network. Imagine my surprise when I heard an American voice calling my name from across the room during the coffee break. It took me a second or two to recognise the elegant woman standing next to the Swedish professor whose presentation I had attended yesterday — it was Mistress Susan – someone I had met in California 10 years ago during a 5-week overseas placement in my 4th year at medical school. I had worked with the test team of a leading US Hospital software company and Susan — sorry Mistress Susan — was one of my mentors both academically and extra-curricularly.

It had been my one and only flirtation with submission and sapphic pleasure and the sight of her here in London sent shivers down my spine. I found myself waving back and hurried over to where she was standing. Obedience just came naturally.

Grasping my hand, she introduced me to the professor saying that I had been one of her most promising students in San Francisco, with what I now realise was a knowing glance at the professor. We chatted about what I was doing now, I explained that I was a consultant microbiologist in one of Glasgow’s largest hospitals. Just then the commencement of the final session was announced and we had to go back in but she insisted that I come round to her house in Chelsea that evening so we could catch up, giving me her business card with the address — “6 pm sharp my dear” she said, brooking no argument.

I didn’t stay for the last session, but went back to my hotel and had a large glass of Merlot in the bar, and tried to work out in my mind what was behind the invitation — was it just a social evening or was she planning on picking up where we had left off all those years ago? And of those 2 options which did I want it to be?

Well, there was only one way to find out — but I needed to get a suitable outfit for the evening — I hadn’t brought anything for the conference as Sally and I would have been planning a dress down weekend. I was staying in a hotel just off Piccadilly Circus so decided to give the shops a look on Oxford Street and by 3 o’clock I had bought a beautiful long sleeved evening dress, some very skimpy underwear from an extremely expensive boutique, and some fuck-me-now shoes from Carnaby street.

Armed with my outfit I returned to the hotel with some conflicting emotions — was this a sensible thing to be doing? I had managed to keep my deviant emotions under control, was it wise to be reigniting that fire?

I had a long shower, trimmed my ‘bush’, then ordered some sandwiches as I had no idea what Susan had in mind foodwise.

Prepared as best I could, and picking up an outrageously expensive bunch of flowers from the hotel foyer on the way out I jumped in a taxi and arrived at the address in good time.

“Wow”, was all I could think! It was a huge Georgian mansion with a massive double door at the top of a small flight of steps.

Before I could ring the bell, the door swung open and a young woman ushered me in, and taking my coat and the flowers, led me into a room off the side of a magnificent hall.

Mistress Susan was sitting at a large desk working on a laptop, “one minute — you’re early”, she barked. I was all of 3 minutes early.

She finished what she was doing, closed the lid of the laptop and looked me up and down.

“You have changed surprisingly little my dear, but until I see all of you, I can’t be sure. Strip!”

The question of what kind of invitation it had been was now apparent.

I hesitated — not sure if this was what I wanted — until Mistress Susan slammed her palm on the desk and shouted “Now!”

Old conditioning kicked in and I slipped the expensive evening dress off my shoulders and stood there in my lacey bra and thong. I have never been particularly well endowed up front but they had maintained their shape and firmness.

“Everything – that hesitation is going to cost you later” she instructed. “Assume the position!”

Removing the bra and thong, I instinctively stood with my feet a shoulders width apart and placed my hands behind my neck.

“Yes, you have kept yourself in good shape — a little saggy around your waist but otherwise good.” “You’ll do — I have some guests coming this evening and I am expecting you to be the entertainment.”

“My maid will get you prepared, go with her and do everything she tells you to.” Addressing her, she said “Have her ready by 9pm”

With that she reopened her laptop — I was dismissed.

Looking back, I cannot understand why I was so meek — I didn’t even ask what was intended — was I going to get fucked by her guests? What I do recall that I was sopping wet with anticipation, my thong had been soaked.

The maid took me downstairs to a basement flat — I think it must have been where she lived as it had its own door and was fully equipped with a shower and kitchen.

“Right” she said “Mistress has given me instructions — I am to give you an enema and a shower, feed you a light meal, and then to apply make-up. We must be ready by 9pm”

I had only had one enema in my life and I hadn’t enjoyed that — this was an altogether worse experience. I was bent over the large cast iron bath and a large bag of soapy water hung from the shower curtain rail. The Maid did not waste time with lubricant or finesse, just pushed the nozzle up my backside and released the fluid.

“Mistress Susan has instructed me to report if you let any escape before you are released to go on the toilet. If you do, I am to redo the procedure but this time with chilli flavoured water”

Within seconds I started to feel uncomfortable, and by the time the bag was empty my insides were cramping in a very painful way. I was desperate to avoid the chilli enema — I could only guess how painful that would be — and was straining to keep my sphincter clenched closed.

Eventually I was led over to the toilet and instructed to let it go — the relief was immense. Not only were the cramps subsiding but the threat of another dose had been avoided. The smell was atrocious — the Jalfrezi from earlier in the week had worked its way through my system — reminding me of the medical school joke of sic gloria, transit on Monday!

Next, I was told to get in the shower, and the temperature was set to extremely hot — on the edge of being scalding, and holding the showerhead in one hand and a large sponge in the other, the maid started to clean me from top to toe, spending a lot of time on my nether regions front and back.

When she was satisfied, I was as clean as she could make me, she turned the temperature to the coldest setting and directed the very powerful jet on to my nipples. They were like needles initially painful but rapidly turning to pleasure and a small groan escaped my lips.

“Liking this are we?” she asked, moving the jet of water between my legs and roughly forcing her finger into my pussy. It hurt and there was no pleasure in it though it did seem to make her smile.

The shower was turned off and I was led out of the bathroom to the kitchen where a plate of cheese and biscuits had been laid out together with some fruit. “Eat – you will need your strength this evening.”

“Mistress Susan has given me detailed instructions to pass on to you concerning your responsibilities as the ‘entertainment’ tonight.”

“You are not to talk unless directly spoken to by one of the guests, and then you must address them as Master or Mistress”

“You will accede to all instructions, but will not be required to agree to penetrative vaginal sex with anyone there, though you may be required to accept ‘toys’ being used in any orifices.”

“You may be flogged and or caned depending on the inclinations of the guests — most of them are new to the soirees so their proclivities are not known. We will endeavour to ensure that you are not permanently marked.” “You will be permitted to use a safe word — red for stop, yellow for go easy, and green for carry on, understood?”

“You will agree to perform felatio and cunnilingus on the guests and their slaves as required, and to have such acts performed on you”

“Is that clear?” she said handing me a sheet of paper with these laid out and a place at the bottom to sign that I accepted willingly.

I hesitated before picking up the pen — I was terrified and exhilarated in equal measure — I had missed this since California all those years ago, but was I ready for this? I signed.

The Maid took me through to what I assumed was her bedroom where a dressing table with a large make-up mirror on it stood.

“Before we start there is just one more thing we need to sort out, kneel on the bed with your bottom facing me, head down on the pillow”

Meekly I complied, and heard a drawer being opened and the clinking of some metal, and then my buttocks being parted, followed by a hard slap.

“Open those legs!”

Then I felt some cold lube being poured down my bum crack and then a lube covered finger being pushed into my still sore anus, followed after a few twists by 2 more fingers. It hurt to start with, but rapidly became stimulating, as I felt my folds become wet. After a minute or so the fingers were removed, and the Maid warned “This is quite big so will hurt but don’t strain and it will go better for you.” With that she started to push a butt plug into my bottom. She was right it did hurt, bringing tears to my eyes, and as it started to stretch me further than I had imagined possible it became agony — worse than the cramps from the enema – and then the widest part was in and the pain started to subside leaving a feeling of fullness.

“That will remain in until it’s time to present you”.

With that she told me to get on the makeup stool, which made the presence of the thing in my bottom all the more apparent and uncomfortable.

First, she pulled my hair back into a pony tail and tied it with some very tight rubber bands, before removing all the make-up from my face and eyes. “Mistress doesn’t like too much make-up — some lipstick and some eye-liner and that will be it. She loves the look of that when the sub starts to cry!”

Swiftly applied, she turned me round and made a grunt of satisfaction “You’ll do”

Reaching into a drawer by the bed, she removed a collar and 4 cuffs which she fastened round my neck, wrists, and ankles.

We had about an hour before the deadline, and I wondered what she had in mind to fill the time. I didn’t have long to wait before she took me over to the bed and told me to get on my back with my legs apart and my arms outstretched, and reaching beneath the bed she produced 4 ropes and attached first my arms and then my legs to the corners of the bed.

“Time for my reward for getting you ready” she smiled, and picking up a riding crop she climbed on to the bed, squatted down over my face and ordered me to make her cum. As an incentive to work hard, I am going to strike your cunt with the crop until I am satisfied”

Where upon she lowered herself over my nose and mouth and started smacking the insides of my thighs — gently at first but gradually getting more painful.

I set to rubbing my nose where I thought her clit was — she had an unruly mass of curly black hair — but I soon found my way to the necessary bits and she was soon writhing with pleasure and the blows to my thighs had subsided. She seemed happy with my efforts, stopping the hard blows to my thighs though delivering the occasional light blow to my folds.

I was very keen to get this over with before she started using the crop more vigorously, and started running my tongue up her labia and into her vagina proper. A sharp blow to my clit was followed by the order to lick her arse hole, which I decided couldn’t be any worse than performing a prostate exam. Once I had started running my tongue along her perineum and round her sphincter, I detected her breathing becoming more laboured and the blows to my privates less frequent and lighter, and when I moved my mouth back to her clit they stopped altogether. After a further few minutes she tensed and then screamed with pleasure before delivering 3 very hard and painful blows to my labia.

She remained on my face for a while before rolling over and pulling her skirt down. “Not bad my dear — I think you should do well tonight, now let’s get you tidied up finally.”

Taking me back to the bathroom, I was again bent over the bath and the butt plug unceremoniously removed — it hurt as much on the way out as it did on the way in, but only for a fraction of a second. She grabbed a face cloth from the sink and applying some soap began cleaning my nether regions, before telling me to pee, and if necessary, poo, because I would not have the opportunity until the evening was over.

It was nearly time to be presented, so my wrist cuffs were attached to the rings at the back of my collar, and I was led upstairs, through the hall to a set of double doors. I could hear several voices and the sound of cutlery on plates, so surmised that it was some kind of dinner party. With me as desert!

With seconds to go before 9, the Maid produced a blindfold from somewhere under her skirt and fastened it over my eyes — I was completely sightless unable to see anything.

She opened the door and led me in at which point the voices fell silent.

After a second or two I felt two pairs of hands — female as far as I could tell — guide me to the centre of the room, and my hands disconnected from my collar, then attached to two chains hanging from the ceiling, and my legs were attached to a spreader bar, already secured to bolts in the floor, forcing my legs as far apart as possible.

The hands disappeared and I could hear Mistress Susan introducing me to the assembled guests, “This is Ginny, someone I played with many years ago and who is to be our entertainment tonight. You will each get a chance to make her acquaintance though there are some ground rules – no penetrative vaginal sex, and no permanent marking”

“Professor, as you have met Ginny recently perhaps you could start the evening’s entertainment?”

“Oh my God, I thought! How humiliating — someone I know professionally seeing me displayed like this!

Suddenly he was beside me, tracing his fingertip behind my ear and down to under my chin, it was the Swedish professor from the conference. “First we are going to see how obedient you can be. You are not to cum without permission if you do, you will receive 6 strokes of the cane. Understood?”

“Yes Master” I whispered. “Louder, the others need to hear you” “Yes, Master!”

“Good.” He started fondling my breast, at first gently, but becoming more forceful and painful. I let out a gasp at the pain and he let me go.

“One of the subs — Holly – will come over while I finish my coffee and brandy — it is her task to make you cum, if she fails, she will get the 6 strokes.”

I heard him walk back to the tables, and shortly a voice whispered in my ear, “You are going to cum for me — there is nothing I hate more than the cane”. You and me both I thought!

I felt her lips brush my right nipple, then gently sucking it into her mouth against her teeth. I felt a bolt of pleasure shoot down to my nether regions; I realised that this girl appeared to know what she was doing. Switching to my left breast she repeated the procedure, but this time finished by lightly biting my nipple. Again, a very strong jolt shot down to my clit,

Alternating between each breast she continued for several minutes to draw small gasps of pleasure from me, as the bites became more intense, I could feel myself becoming more excited.

Suddenly she stopped and dropping to her knees started plying my upper thighs with gentle kisses, getting closer to my labia with each touch. Soon she was kissing and nipping my folds with her teeth, and then running her tongue up and down my folds. My gasps of pleasure were coming ever more intense, and suddenly she pushed her tongue inside of me, while at the same time running the fingers of one hand round to my still slightly tender back hole.

I could sense myself become very wet, and could feel the rising orgasm building when she went straight to my engorged nub and started sucking it gently in a rhythmic fashion, making me strain at the chains holding me spreadeagled. Suddenly she stopped, leaving me on the edge of my climax — a disappointment and a relief at the same time. I hadn’t been caned since San Francisco and I hadn’t enjoyed that one bit!

Suddenly she stood up and kissed me, parting my lips forcefully with her tongue. I had never tasted myself and was pleasantly surprised at how sweet it was, and I soon lost myself in the sensuousness of the kiss and relaxed, which was all she needed as she thrust 2 fingers between my legs and tipped me over the edge into a full-blown orgasm.

I suddenly heard a round of applause from the guests — not for me I surmised — but for Holly.

Presently, I heard the Professor approach, and lifting my hair from my ear he, whispered, “Thankyou Ginny, I was hoping you’d fail that test – I shall be delivering the 6 strokes of the cane myself when we adjourn to the library after we have finished here. I want to see your bottom turn fiery red and your tears flow down your cheeks!” The Swedish accented English told me immediately who it was causing me to blush with humiliation. I can’t explain why this should embarrass me while standing here naked and spread didn’t.

At that he returned to his table and a succession of guests sauntered up and played with various parts of my anatomy, one particular woman started pinching the skin on my inner arms that hurt in a particularly non-erotic manner, before squeezing both my breasts viciously, followed by repeated slaps to both of my globes. Whilst some of the earlier pain had had the effect of raising my sexual excitement, this just made me scared.

Shortly the guests all returned to their seats and Mistress Susan approached me and whispered “That Bitch will not be invited again — I can’t abide Dommes who do not care for their sub’s pleasure.” With which she started gently rolling my nipples between thumb and finger eliciting moan of pleasure from me. I then felt my nipple being sucked, again gently while her fingers played with my other breast. I was just drifting into a wonderful place when Mistress Susan stepped back and I felt a sudden and painful prick in the top of my breast which then continued on down towards my nipple. I later learnt this was a pin wheel which Mistress ran around my areola tantalisingly, before running it forcefully over my -by now – highly sensitive nipple.

“That will do for now, masters and mistresses — a round of applause for Ginny”

I was then unchained from the restraints and from the spreader bar by Holly, though leaving by wrist and ankle cuffs on, and then led through to the library where I had been inspected by Mistress Susan earlier that afternoon. My blindfold was removed and I was pushed on to my knees and told “Get into the position. I shall be back shortly with the Mistress and the Professor.”

I knelt there alone, in front of Mistress’s desk waiting and getting more anxious by the minute but if I am honest with myself there was a degree of wanting to submit to the Professor’s will. I think it was no more than half an hour before I heard the sounds of guests taking their leave in the hall, and then the door to the library opened.

“Well Ginny — it’s just you, me, and the Professor now, not forgetting Holly. Are you looking forward to receiving your punishment?” I just shook my head as I was unable to speak with fear at what I was about to receive.

“Holly get her ready!”

Holly pulled me to my feet and led me over to Mistress Susan’s desk and laid me across it, attaching first my ankle cuffs to two straps tied to the side legs of the desk. Then my wrists were connected to two ties lying on top of the leather covered desk. Holly then reached under the desk and tied a thick leather belt across the small of my back rendering me unable to do move.

I could see the Professor go to a cupboard in the far corner of the room and remove a vicious looking cane, which he promptly swished left and right, and smiling with a grin that did nothing to ease my fears

“Right, Mistress Susan — I believe the punishment tariff for cumming without permission is 6 strokes,” said the Professor.

“Yes indeed, Sir. And don’t hold back. I want to see that mascara run but this slave was slow in obeying my orders this afternoon – I want you to give her 4 more” replied Mistress Susan.

I felt the Professor’s hand on my bottom, gently rub both cheeks, parting them and running a finger over my sphincter and down to my pussy. “Ooh – she is very wet; I think this will be an entertaining night”

And then without any further delay he brought the cane down squarely across the middle of my buttocks. For a moment I thought this isn’t as bad as I thought, but then the heat and the pain came flooding in — so intense was it that it took my breath away, and all I could do was make a gurgling sound.

“Right my dear, that was your first but from now on I want you to count them and then thank Mistress Susan for each one. Any that you miss will not count and we will have to start over. Do you understand?”

I sobbed “yes” – “Yes what?”, as the Professor rapped the back of my calf muscle with the cane.

“Yes Master”

I managed to count and thank Mistress for the next 5 although I just don’t know how I managed it as I was sobbing so loudly, I am not sure that my count and thanks were clearly audible. The desk was wet with my tears and I had not experienced such pain in my life. I started begging for him to stop and then I heard Holly interceding and offering to take the remaining strokes on my behalf.

I slumped and I suspect passed out, for when I regained consciousness I was untied and lying on my side by the fire.

“Come here and hold Holly’s hand — it’s the least you can do” barked Mistress.

Staggering over to the desk, I took Holly’s hand and kissed her forehead and whispered “thanks!”. The first stroke was vicious and Holly squeezed my hand in a vice like grip, but made no sound. The next few were equally hard and accurate causing moans from the maid’s mouth that I realised were not totally devoid of pleasure. On the 4th stroke the Professor handed the cane to Mistress Susan, saying that ‘my’ punishment was over, but that he understood that Holly was due for a caning for some misdemeanour during the week.

With almost no pause in the blows, the 15 punishment strokes were delivered and I realised that Holly was close to orgasm.

“Untie her!” ordered Mistress Susan “but leave her for the Professor”

Where upon she took my hand and led me from the library, up the sweeping stairs to a large bedroom. “Now, I shall have my pleasure — I assume you remember what I taught you in San Francico?”

Lying on her back she beckoned me to climb between her legs and she too picked up a crop to encourage me to do my best. It was obvious where the Maid had learnt her technique. At least my delicates were not within range this time.

I set to as the occasional sharp blow landed on my thigh or buttocks and soon had Mistress moaning with pleasure, and after some minutes more I felt Mistress tense and shudder as her orgasm took her.

I waited until I was told to get up and stand by the foot of the bed, in the present position until told to move. Mistress got up and went to the ensuite bathroom where I heard the shower start up, and eventually came out naked and clean.

Rubbing my bottom, Mistress Susan whispered “We will have to repeat this some time when I have the cane in my hand. But not tonight”

Just then the door to her bedroom opened and the Professor marched in dragging a very tearful Holly behind him. He pushed her on to the bed, bent her at the waist, and then told me to assume the same position beside her. I was terrified that another caning was coming but obeyed as I was sure that disobedience would make everything worse.

Mistress Susan went over to her bedside table and removed what at first looked like a vibrator but I soon realised was a strap-on cock which she proceeded to put on.

I heard Holly groan beside me, surmising that she had already been intimate with this device during her tenure here. She reached out for my hand and squeezed it.

Mistress Susan applied copious amounts of lube to my anus and then repeated the process with Holly. Meanwhile the Professor stepped behind me and ran his finger from my cunt to my arse, humming! Then without ado — pushed his finger right in, then removed it and repeated the invasion with 2 fingers. Thank goodness Holly had prepared me earlier, as when the third finger slipped in and twisted round it was only mildly uncomfortable.

The Professor pulled them out and barked at me to “Clean them!”, pushing them into my mouth. To my surprise they were not distasteful as the lube was peppermint flavoured and there did not seem to be any ‘natural’ products there.

When he was satisfied that they were clean he put his cock on my opening and thrust in without any preamble making me scream as it really hurt — not on the same scale as the caning but close. Gradually the pain subsided, and I started to relish the feeling of fullness as he plunged deeper into my backside. Holly was receiving similar treatment from Mistress Susan and was in obvious discomfort and had started crying again.

This carried on for several minutes until the Professor started to grunt and I realised that he was close to cumming and then I felt a hot gush fill my bowels. Pushing me to my knees he made me clean his instrument with my mouth, but this time the taste was not of peppermint, but much more bitter.

Mistress Susan had also stopped raping Holly’s backside, and was pulling Holly to her feet, turning her back on the young student and telling her to remove the strappon.

“Take Ginny to your room — we’re finished with you both for tonight” Be ready as usual in the morning.

To be continued….