After the long flight overseas I was dead tired. But excited. Here I was, in my early 30's, in England, getting ready to go to Oxford. A late start maybe, but I was finally here. I had spent my years after high school looking after an elderly aunt. My parents had died when I was young and the woman raised me. If you can call it that. A former nun, she was harsh, bordering on cruel. I hadn't dated much and much to my chagrin, I was still a virgin. My social life while she was alive was practically non-existent, but she died 6 months ago, leaving me everything. With no family ties to keep me in the States, I applied to and was accepted at Oxford, to pursue a degree in medieval history. I'd even managed to find a place to live in a nearby village. Practically rent-free too. Now I know there's no such thing as a free lunch, but in my letters from Lord Hillenbroke, I felt reassured that the situation was safe. He and his sister had opened their home to six young women, offering them a place to live while they studied at Oxford in exchange for companionship for them and their occasional houseguests. I'd never seen a picture of the man, but I expected he and his sister were up in years and just enjoyed the company of young people. Besides, he'd been adamant about my being a virgin. I even had to provide him with a doctor's certification to that fact.
Waiting for me at the gate was a young man, dressed in black, holding a placard with my name on it. He was about 6'3" with dark brown hair and deep dark brown eyes. Tan, lean and muscular…didn't look British…maybe Italian? His mouth was absolutely luscious and I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss it. Blushing at my thoughts I walked over and extended my hand.
"I'm Annie. You must be from Hillenbroke Manor."
He reached out, not to take my hand, but my one suitcase, and walked briskly away. I ran to catch up with him. Not too chatty this one. "Uhm, excuse me, but where I come from, if you don't introduce yourself before taking a woman's luggage they call you a mugger."
He stopped briefly and turned to me. "They call me Rafe, ma'am." His voice was pure liquid sex. And the scent he was wearing. I'd never encountered it before, but it actually had my mouth watering!
Rafe began walking and I hurried up beside him.
"I take it we're going to the car?"
He nodded.
I realized I wasn't going to get much out of him in the middle of Heathrow so I silently followed him out to the car. He loaded my suitcase in the back of the 1935 Rolls as I began to get in the passenger side.
"Ahem. You'll sit in back ma'am."
Blushing again, I closed the door and realized the car was a limousine. I climbed into the back and was surprised when Rafe handed me a glass of champagne. I started to decline, but he insisted.
"Lord Hillenbroke's orders ma'am. To welcome you to England."
I took the glass and sipped slowly as we began our drive to the manor. Wouldn't do for me to show up tipsy I thought. Soft music flowed from the front of the car and I sat back to enjoy the scenery. It was early morning here and the roads were just beginning to crawl with commuters. I'd been warned that the best way to fight off jet lag was to not sleep for the first 24 hours so I fought to keep my eyes open. The sleepy feeling was accompanied by a familiar tingling in my crotch. My pussy seemed to be on fire and pretty soon I felt my hand go down and begin to slowly rub through the skirt and panties. I stopped. What was I doing? Rafe could easily see me from the rear view mirror. I found that I didn't care. All I wanted was that sweet release…wave after wave of electricity that years of masturbation had taught me to achieve. I drained the last of the champagne and let the glass fall to the floor. Raising my skirt I slipped a finger into my thong. Oh, I was so wet! I rubbed my clit in slow lazy circles as my eyes wandered to Rafe's back. What would his cock feel like…in my mouth…in my pussy? His eyes caught mine and he smiled.
I felt the car slow and stop. Rafe left his seat and walked back to the rear of the limo. Opening the door, he slid in next to me. My senses told me I should have been shocked…embarrassed. But I wasn't. The closer he got the more I wanted him…all of him. I wanted that man's hands on me…everywhere. I wanted to taste him…his mouth, his cock, his cum. I reached for him and he shook his head.
"I'm sorry ma'am. You're not allowed to touch. The master's orders." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a thin velvet cord. Before I knew it, my wrists were pulled up over my head and tied to the passenger strap opposite my head. Rafe eased me down on the seat so I lay there, arms over my head, hands tied to the strap. He ran a finger down the buttons of my blouse, sending tremors through my body. "Oh you are a ripe one aren't you?" he whispered as he undid my blouse. His breath caught as his eyes fell on my 38 DDDs encased in a black lace bra. I've always been proud of my Gibson Girl figure, and I could tell by the growing bulge in his slacks that it was appreciated.
He cupped my breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples in slow circles until they stood out, straining against the fabric. Now I've had boys, and yes, some men, fondle my tits before. But nothing was like what I was experiencing right now. I wanted him to pinch my nipples, squeeze them, take them in his mouth and nibble on them. I bit my lower lip as my hips started bucking against his form. He gave me a deep throaty chuckle. "Oh yes, you are definitely going to be a fun one." With that he bent his head down and began mouthing my tits through the lace as his hand traveled down and raised my skirt. Slipping a finger into my soaking pussy he tugged and flicked at my hard little clit until I thought I was going to die. I have no idea how long he kept at it…pulling my breasts free of the bra, sucking on them…biting my nipples…his fingers flicking and tugging at my clit…then stopping and slipping inside my pussy…only to return to the clit a few seconds later with slow lazy strokes until my moans and whimpers drove him back to tugging and flicking it.
"Oh yeah baby…that's it….you want to cum, don't you?" Rafe was breathing heavily as he finger fucked my pussy, his fingers making wet slurpy noises as they went in and out of my drenched pussy. I nodded. In the dark…. Wait, when had it gotten dark? It didn't matter. All I wanted was that sweet release. Rafe grinned at me. "I can't hear you, little girl. You want me to make you cum, don't you?"
"Oh please….god please Rafe…make me cum…make me cum all over your hand."
With that he intensified his rubbing on my clit, pressing down hard as he rubbed faster and faster.
"oh…oh god yes….ohhhh….god don't stop Rafe….make me cum…..make…me….cum…AAHHHHH"
His mouth closed down on mine to muffle my cries, his tongue darting in and out of my mouth, sucking mine into his. My hips bucked against his hand wildly as wave after wave washed over my body. I felt that orgasm down in my toes! And when I thought it was over, and Rafe slowed his hand, I could feel my pussy throbbing. Rafe would lightly brush against my clit and that would start a whole new orgasm for me. I must have come at least three times.
Rafe stood up and begin to unzip his pants. As I sat there, laying on the back seat of some stranger's limo, my hands tied above my head, blouse open, tits hanging out, skirt raised, and soaked panties twisted at my ankles, I couldn't help thinking to myself that England was going to be very fun indeed.
I knew I should be scared…protesting…I mean, he was going to rape me wasn't he? But I didn't. I wanted it. Oh how I wanted it. 32 years is TOO long to be a virgin. Now, don't get me wrong, I'd been finger fucked before, and I can proudly say that no man who got a blowjob from me walked away disappointed. In fact, they always came back for more. But nothing thicker than a tampon had been inside my vagina. Not even a dildo, though I'd thought about it. My aunt's heavy ties to religion prevented me from dating much, and she even had problems with me using tampons.
Rafe straddled me, resting his weight on the back of his shins, looking at me. "You're truly beautiful you know that?" He caressed my face and ran his fingers through my hair. I turned my head and kissed his fingertips, sucking them into my mouth. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, stroking his already hard cock with the other hand. "MMMM….Oh Annie…you are going to make such a good pet…"
I stopped and looked at him sharply. "Excuse me? Pet? What the hell are you talking about?"
He snapped back to attention and looked embarrassed. "Shit. You weren't supposed to know yet. Damn it!"
I struggled to sit up. "What wasn't I supposed to know?" Images of a old, fat, lecherous Lord Hillenbroke began to run through my mind. Oh my god, I'd been suckered into a white slavery ring.
"If I tell you, you can't let on. Promise me. He'll punish me something awful if he knows I've told you. He'll already be pissed that I didn't give you all of the drops." Rafe had turned white with fear. What kind of hold did this guy have over him?
"Alright, I promise, I won't tell. Now what's going on? What drops are you talking about?"
Rafe slid off me and untied my hands. Sighing he ran his fingers through his hair and began his explanation.
"Lord Hillenbroke and his sister, Lady Alysyn…well, they have, uhm, an interesting lifestyle."
"What kind of interesting lifestyle? Incest? White slavery?"
"Oh no…nothing like that. None of us are at the manor against our will. And they certainly don't…not with each other…I've seen some odd things there, but not that. " Rafe turned to me, his face losing its pallor. "They are Master and Mistress of the Manor…and of us. Each one of us has been chosen by either the Master or the Mistress for our sexual appetite. We serve them and their guests. And sometimes, if they wish, each other. When I first met the Mistress, I was 18. Hopelessly shy. But inside me was something, well I can't describe it. I just knew I was different. And the Mistress knew it too. She and the Master trained me to draw on my sexuality, to embrace it. I've been there for almost 10 years now. We can come and go as we please. We just have to give notice and help them find a replacement. Brittney, now she only lasted about 6 months. Tristan's been there the longest I think. He used to be one of the Mistress' boyfriends when she was a teen-ager. Amber, the girl you're replacing, arrived two years after me."
My head reeled. Amber. Amber Dryfoos. I'd met her at the library shortly after my aunt died. She was the first real friend I'd had in a long time. We'd talked about everything…and I mean EVERYTHING. She had always laughed and said what I needed was a good hard fucking…by someone who knew how to teach me. I sat back in the seat, completely flabbergasted. Amber was the one who'd talked me into going back to college. And she was the one who had told me about Lord Hillenbroke and arranged everything. Holy shit! She pimped me for them!
"God dammit!" I struggled to get out of the car and was stopped by Rafe's strong arm.
