Camille Agency Allure
“I’ve always been an unusual girl. My ways and likes have always been slightly off the standard beat. It’s not that I went out of my way to be different. That’s just how I was, how I felt, different, and it’s this difference inside of me that’s led me down paths in life that most would consider, shall we say, somewhat avant-garde, but for me it’s what made sense and what made me feel alive. Constantly I’m searching for ‘my people,’ craving connections with strangers. I hoped to find in a stranger that familiar something that set me apart from those who would otherwise have been closest. It’s one of the few things that truly thrills me and makes me feel electric, like a drug coursing through my veins, dizzying my senses. It’s this need that brought me to where I am today: I’m a high class call girl in the city I love most in the world, London.
As far back as I can remember, I have been a highly sexual being; playing with myself came naturally to me, and I lacked any shame. It was only when I began trying to talk to the girls as school about the power and the glory of my orgasms that I realised, with a shiver of shock that most of them had never even had one, or they weren’t sure if they had: so began my love of taking control. I quickly discovered how I loved being dominant over other girls and women, teaching them all I had learnt about my own body and pouring it, lavishing it onto them. Watching them wriggle under my feathery touch or writhe, like they’d been whipped, at the flick of my tounge. It gave me a rush of power and I learnt early what an intoxicating thing that could be. I soon got tired of always taking charge with the naive boys and innocent girls at my private school, debauching them, and longed for a real man to take me in hand and show me what power could do, to satisfy my craving for obedience. I wanted to surrender control, to subsume my desires in those of a strong, experienced man who would direct me, use me, and ravish me. I dreamed of finding my pleasure in his, but I needed a strong man whom I could respect and submit to. I needed a man whose powerful sexuality would force my libidinous surrender, in the hope of satisfying myself through serving him.
One day, I met him, dark and mysterious, dressed impeccably from head to toe in the sharpest, darkest black suit I had ever seen. It was my last year of school after sixth form, and he was on some board that funded our very old, very established boarding school. I didn’t know the details, only that he exuded power and confidence; even the headmaster spoke with an anxious respect in his presence. All the girls wanted him, in their silly girlish way, and a chorus of high pitched squeals and giggles followed him wherever he went. Except from me. He rarely deigned to look at the students, but one morning, when I finally managed to catch his gaze, I didn’t look away. I stared right back, in my naivety and misplaced confidence, almost challenging him. My mind said, “Fuck me,” to him, and my eyes conveyed it silently. His face remained impassive, but I sensed something, and a shivery ghost of an orgasm flickered within me. I stifled a gasp, and looked away suddenly, feeling the hot flush of blood rise to my brazen cheeks in an unaccustomed blush, a feeling as unfamiliar as the uncertain anxiety I felt under his eyes. As I composed myself, and glanced back up, I saw that he was gone.
Walking down the echoing corridor that afternoon, my heels clacking on the hardwood floor, I passed under the paintings of distinguished alumni, stern prime ministers gazing blankly across the hallway at frigid, frowning suffragettes. I went to pass the board chairman’s office door. He was rarely in, so I was surprised to find it open and him sat at his desk. Suddenly, I heard his powerful voice: ‘Come here, girl!”
It was a voice that rang out clear and firm, but not loud. He was a man who never had to shout to be heard; when he spoke, people listened, and his intonation carried an edge of quiet confidence that compelled obedience. It rang in my ears, as my heart pounded. Is he talking to me?”I thought, as I stood frozen in uncertainty. “Are you ignoring me, girl, I said come here!”
My heart began to pound, hard, against my chest, so hard that my blouse, sheer, almost transparent, was vibranting against my body. Turning on my heels, I stepped cautiously into his office. ‘Close the door behind you.’ Automatically I obeyed. All my usual rebellious sass drained from me in an instant, sucked away by this desire between my thighs. I remember that I was wet just at his most simple commands. “You think you’re pretty special, don’t you?” he said to me, as he organized some papers disdainfully, not even looking at my face. I flushed bright red at the thought that he had even noticed me. “I’ve been watching you, the way you tease the boys, and the power you have over the girls here.” he went on, my legs beginning now to tremble beneath my weight. “Do you like to play games? “Games I thought. ‘What do you mean by games, Sir?’ He then looked up at me, staring straight into my face. I felt my pussy grow wetter.
‘Take your knickers off,’ he commanded, in a voice that would permit no argument. My heartbeat pounded in my ears so hard it deafened me. My face bright red, I obeyed his order instinctively, sliding my panties down my long, smooth legs to the knees, then lifting one delicately curved calf out, so that they fell around one milky-white ankle, which I lifted slowly, dangling my underwear from a single toe, as I lifted them to my hands. As I felt the cool air highlighting the sudden exposure of my warm pussy, I felt the throbbing engorgement in my clitoris grow. My whole body had been aching for this, for years, and I finally realised it. ‘Bring them to me,’ he demanded. I coyly gripped the crumpled white cotton knickers, noticing with a pang of embarrassment the creamy white juice I had just covered them in, as my arousal leached out, so wet they were heavy. I wanted to hide them, to stuff them in my pocket and hide my scent, my truth, from him, but he was demanding in way that compelled obedience, so I placed them on his desk. I felt humiliated as he picked them up with his crooked little finger. As he looked over my modest, girlish panties, dressed in his classic, sharply-tailored suit, the epitome of sophisticated class and power, I felt suddenly just like the young girl I was, and not the mature, grown-up woman that I had been experimenting in becoming. I had felt so sophisticated and experienced among the girls of my school, but I felt the yawning gulf open up between my self-image and the reality of my youth and naivety. I was used to being with teenage girls and boys. He was neither, and his experience, knowledge and power filled me with awe and a tingle in my clitoris that grew into a throbbing ache. I was raw and real; for the first time in my sexual life, there was no ‘act.’ None could be sustained in his withering gaze. He saw though me and I knew it, felt it, but he also felt my fire and he knew how to make me burn as I stood before him. My whole body was on fire, aching and burning for him. ‘These are soaked,’ he said, finally, after what felt like an hour. If it was possible, I blushed harder, my cheeks burning. ‘Why are these so wet?’ he asked me. ‘I don’t know,’ I replied, lying softly and boring a hole in the floor as I stared intensely, unable to look him in the eye.
He stood up, raising his voice for the first time, ‘Don’t lie to me, young lady, don’t you ever lie to me. Now answer my question! Why are your little knickers so wet?’ I could feel a rage rising within him, and I didn’t want to upset him. I wanted him to want me, I needed him to.
’Because I want you to fuck me, sir.’ I could hardly belive the words that had just tumbled from my mouth, my truth and my shame. It hung in the air while I waited for a reaction, but he stood stoic and unfazed. Despair Rose within me, until I saw his cock move with a sudden twitch. In his trouser pants, growing, I watched it spasm again. ‘He wants me too!’ I thought joyously, and if it was possible, my thighs ached even more. I was practically dripping on the floor at this point, my whole body was covered in a light layer of salty sweet sweat. I went to move towards him, pulled by an instinct, a magnetism as natural as it was irresistible. I reached toward his belt buckle,a determined to unwrap what I was sure was going to be the perfect cock. I had never had an older man before. I was desperate to taste him.
“Stop! Did I tell you that you could move!’ he said in a demanding tone. There would be no negotiation, I knew that. I froze, standing as still I had ever been, while he began to circle me. Like a helpless fish in a limitless ocean, I was transfixed by the great white shark, turning circles around me as he held me in his cold, hungry sights. There was no escape, and I didn’t want one.
“You’ve been a naughty young lady,’ he declared, ‘haven’t you?” I knew there was only one answer to this question, and it was not the usual one where you plead innocence. Oh no. ‘Yes’ I mumbled”Speak up girl.”… “Yes,’ I said, louder this time. ‘Yes, I have, sir. I’m sorry, I…”
Cutting me off, he said, ‘That will do. All I need to know is that you know you have been naughty, and that you understand what naughty girls get, don’t you?’
“What do they get?’ I thought. I didn’t know, but I hoped it was his cock throbbing deep inside me.Interrupting that thought, he sharply told me to bend over. I obeyed instantly, leaning over the giant, dark oak desk, my bottom tight and pert, arched up, aching, expecting fingers, hoping for tounge. Braced for that anticipated carress, suddenly I was struck with a short, sharp spank right across the top of my thighs and pussy. Before I could comprehend the rush of feelings, I gasped as another slap shocked me. He was spanking me! It was a sensation I had never before felt, and as my buttocks grew rosy from each slap, my sexualmneeds intensified. Taking each cheek in turn, I would feel a sharp slap, followed by a tender, soothing touch. His caresses worked me up into a state never before known to me. Tears surged to my eyes with each slap, and yet I ached for the tender touch that came after. He tells me with each that I am a good girl, and after so long of being the ultimate ‘bad girl,’ the ‘sexual deviant,’ the ‘naughty one,’ it feels so good to have this man, who has so much power, tell me what a good girl I am Every inch of me wants to please him. Finally, he slips a finger inside me. ‘Your cunt is soaking wet,’ he tells me, although I already know this, it’s been purring for a while now. ‘Spread your cheeks,’ he tells me. Still face down on his oak desk, breathing in the scent of polish and old books, I reach around with my hands and spread my aching ass open as far as it will go. ’Good girl’ I heard again. Pleasing him is all I want. All I need. He begins to rub my swollen clit, so engorged by now that it’s only moments before I am convulsing in absolute pleasure.
“I’m coming so hard,’ I thought to myself in astonishment, and I haven’t even been sucked or fucked yet.’ “I’m delirious with pleasure. As I hold my ass open for him, he rubs my juices around the rim of my tight asshole. With a feeling of shock, I realise what he is planning. I have never had anything in my ass before, and I feel myself clench with fear and anticipation. I’m curious and eager to please, but I’ve always been frightened by the horror stories of painful anal I’ve heard girls tell. I’ve never let a man go there. My pussy and clit always brought me so much pleasure, I didn’t need to explore further, and I’d never met a boy I trusted to venture there. My heart pounded anxiously, but I knew I would have no choice. I had already made it, when I surrendered my body, my will, and, I realised too late my ass to this man. Smoothing my dripping lubricant over me, he slid his thumb out of my pussy, and placed it over my ring of flesh. He pressed, hard, and my resistance wavered, then collapsed, as his thumb slid inside my tight hole with surprising ease. I gasped at the novel, intense feeling, as I felt him press inside, stretching and pressing the walls of my pussy from within my ass. I felt dirty and horny as the fullness of my ass and the aching emptiness of my pussy throbbed through my clit. I couldn’t take any more waiting, as exhilaration displaced my fear.
I moaned as he withdrew his thumb, then heard him unzip his slacks. I try to turn around to get a look at what I’m sure is a beautiful cock, when I feel a spank hard across my right cheek ‘Did I tell you that you could look!’ he spat contemptuously. I put my head back down and feel my pussy quiver, hungry, and eager to be filled, but then I feel him start to slowly push and grind into my asshole. The fear of pain rose in me again, as he forced his thick cock in, I felt the pop of my lubed ring snap closed behind the head of his throbbing dick. He pushed forward, slowly but steadily, as I moaned softly. I felt myself filling up, as his cock glided past nerve endings I’d never known were there, I felt flashes of pleasure like lightning bolts. I felt so tight around his cock, I couldn’t take any more, but I felt him pushing further, another few inches, and I groaned in pleasure as I felt him reach the end, his balls slapping against my empty, throbbing pussy. I had never felt so full and tight in my life, but then I felt him reach around and under me, as he filled my pussy with two fingers, I groaned again, louder, as he possessed my ass and pussy. He began to fuck my ass gently, and so slowly. ‘Do you like that, you naughty girl?’ he asked.
“I do, I said, moaning breathily.
“What do you like?” he asked me, pushing and edging me to say aloud what was giving me such pleasure.
“You, fucking my ass,” I grunted, in a voice I didn’t recognise.
His pace quickened, his hands gripped my pussy, clit, and thighs and I felt his cock grow inside me. His whole body spasmed as I felt the throbbing cock in me begin to jet semen. I gasped as he filled my ass with his hot cum, thrusting and throbbing. He slowed, then rested inside me for a moment before slowly pulling out. I lay face down on his table with my ass in the air, filled with his spunk, while he cleaned himself and I heard his zip go back up.
Stand up and put your knickers back on,’ “he said, finally. I obeyed and turned to see that he was back sitting at his desk already, as if nothing had just transpired. Only I knew that it had, even if it didn’t feel real. “Go back to your dorm now and I will see you back here same time tomorrow.” I turned to leave and as my hand was on the door handle he said, “Bring your friend Rosalind with you when you come tomorrow.” I understood. Without looking back, I closed the door and walked away, resisting the urge to run back to the dorm to tell my best friend Rosalind what had just happened, and that she was to join us tomorrow. I was to watch them fuck, and I couldn’t wait…..”
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