Rite Of Passage Kelly And Her Grandfather
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He left the Audi in the multi-storey and ground his way up through the grim bleakness of the stairwell, the smell of piss and the crunch of spent hypos, discarded like spent shotgun shells to be obliterated beneath his boots. The ambient stench of degradation clung to his Armani three-piece like some foul, invisible smog and, holding a silken handkerchief to his nose and mouth he quickened his ascent, desperate to get back to the luxury and safety of his government penthouse.
He pressed his ID chip against the plate and the section of wall slid away revealing the opulent lobby. He strode like the powerful man that he was across to the lifts and the phalanx of motion, heat, infra red sensors craned their spindly necks to track his progress. Another presentation of the chip which contained nearly every tiny detail of his life and the lift doors hissed smoothly open.
“Penthouse seven.”
He entered the lift and took a seat. He hated this part. Even with the super-fast modern lifts it still took a full five minutes to travel the hundred and thirty floors and the shitty R & B-electro-dub that was continually squeezed from the speakers was enough to give him a mind lock.
It had been a long night. The latest post-modernist narcotics were still firing like a trillion pistons across the whole of his cortex and though he was totally wired he was a hundred percent in control. If anything untoward were to happen his focus and concentration would hit that of a pulse laser; yet he was utterly warm and anti-gravitational, flirting with an entirely new conceptual plane and sensing colours and sounds in non-corporeal swirls. All the time firmly anchored to his present reality.
The lift doors finally opened and he entered the penthouse. He clacked noisily across the ocean of Egyptian tile and flung his jacket over the back of the vermillion ultra-suede five-piece that it had taken them seven months to deliver.
“Music on. The Beatles. White Album.” He told the apartment and the music began. He had taken to listening to classical music lately, probably just a pretense of his high office but he didn’t care; it was so much better than all this modern shite
He poured himself a scotch and sat down in the middle of the five-piece, relaxing back into the plush ultra-suede that seemed to absorb him like some sort of organism.
“Window. Project. New York. Night time.” The lasers and giant LEDs of Time Square shimmered into life on the huge plate of Plexiglas in front of him and he watched the explosions of colour and the giant scrolling adverts as they lit up the mega-city.
Taking another belt of scotch he thought about the day’s negotiations for the finalisation of the infra-structure for the New European Hegemony, but the unbelievably complex machinations of high political posturing was too much to go over again so he reached instead for his Simulated Reality trodes and placed them wearily over his head.
He switched the trodes on with the handset and they locked into place. He scrolled through the options and decided on one of his favourite sex programs. Touching the ‘enable’ icon, his apartment imploded into a billion non-colour atoms and his new surroundings formed gradually from the particulate mist.
Sebastian Arnold knocked three times on the badly painted steel door and waited for a reply. After a few seconds a view plate slid back and a pair of Oriental eyes started out at him, a woman’s voice barking something in Japanese.
He unfastened his shirt and revealed the large dragon tattoo on the left of his smooth stomach. Glancing down at the tattoo the eyes seemed to soften and the view plate slid back into place. There was the familiar sound of a six digit code being tapped into a standard electronic lock and the door creaked slowly open.
Arnold stepped into the dark smoky room and the door locked shut behind him. He looked around and took in the now familiar surroundings. The room was basically square and along the full length of all four sides were C-shaped velour seating arrangements half surrounding small circular tables. Most were filled with what looked like fat Japanese business men and the occasional group of young Caucasians, but all parties had at least two girls of all races happily sitting in leather or silk or PVC underwear and laughing or dancing or fucking their paying guests.
Running down the centre of the room, four platforms with roof-high silver poles where young girls swung and danced and gyrated and pleasured themselves with all manner of imaginative toys.
Arnold took a seat at an empty booth and gestured to a tall Indian girl who was passing him, perfectly balancing a tray of drinks on the top of her head.
As she bent her head nearer to his mouth in a pointless attempt to hear him above the pulsating Neo-Elektro-Beat that spread through the room like an omen, he shouted. “My name’s Arnold, Sebastian Arnold. I want to see Chung Lee.” And the girl simply nodded, turned around and walked elegantly off.
Five minutes later Chun Lee arrived at his table. She was an unbelievably beautiful Japanese woman who, though at least forty years old chronologically had had so much enhancement and augments that she had the face and the body of a seventeen year old girl, and her tattooed make-up and genetically spliced hair and eyes gave her the appearance of a third generation half-breed, with just the perfect amount of her Oriental heritage left in tact.
In perfect, accent-less English: “Mr Arnold, how nice to see you again. Would you like your usual room?”
Standing to receive her Arnold said “Chun Lee, always a pleasure and yes please, that would be splendid.” Taking him by the hand she turned and led him to the far end of the room where beside a half obscured door, two behaviour alteration personnel stood, flexing their newly transplanted donor muscle and chewing furiously as a conglomerate of stimulants flashed through their bloodstreams.
Through the door and along a dimly lit corridor filled with the part-muffled sounds of screaming and moaning and shouting; and Chun Lee stopped at a familiar door and pushed it open. She followed Arnold in and slammed the door behind her.
The room was just as he had seen it last. A medieval styled dungeon. Cold, damp stone walls with wooden torches in iron brackets and solid steel manacles hung intermittently along them. The floor was also stone with scattered straw and muck and human filth. Devices of torture were assembled around the place with no apparent sense of logic or forethought. And in the centre a wooden table with shackles at either end.
“So where d’you wan…” His question was immediately terminated as Chun Lee slapped him with surprising vehemence across his face.
“SHUT YOUR STINKING FUCKING MOUTH YOU FILTHY PIG AND TAKE YOUR DIRTY STINKING CLOTHES OFF.” She screamed at him, and as he stood there anchored to the moment by the shock of the outburst she slapped him again. “I SAID FUCKING NOW YOU PATHETIC WORM.” The realisation of the situation crystallised in his mind and he began to remember the nuances of the role he was now playing.
“Yes mistress, sorry mistress.” He said and began to tug clumsily at his clothes. Once naked he simply stood there with his hands clasped nervously behind his back while Chun Lee circled him staring at every part of his body, examining him like some slave she was considering buying.
“Pathetic. Look at the state of you.” She mumbled shaking her head in abject disgust. “And what the fuck do you call that?” She had found from somewhere a riding crop and she now used it to flick at his limp cock, her face a diagram of abhorrence.
“I’m sorry mistr…” Chun Lee lashed his chest with the riding crop.
“Shut up bitch.” She spat and then going to a table in the corner she returned with a ball gag on a stiff leather strap and walked around him so his back was to her. Arnold saw the thing flash down past his eyes and then the ball was in his mouth and the strap was fastened roughly at the back of his neck.
“That’s better you horrible little cunt. Now you might think about staying quiet. Now, get on the table.” She gestured with a flick of the horse whip towards the wooden table and Sebastian Arnold did exactly as he was told. Once he was on the table his mistress began to fasten his feet into the shackles at the foot of the table, and then stepped up to do the same with his hands.
Once he was properly secured Chun Lee stepped back from the table and slipped off her kimono. She was wearing a pair of crotch-less leather knickers with a peep-hole leather bra and knee-length leather boots. Her clitoris, navel and both nipples were pierced with large silver rings and a chain ran up through all four rings to fasten at a studded leather choker round her neck.
She began to pace slowly round and round the table, whipping his chest, stomach, arms.
“What am I going to do to you you worthless cunt?” She said and then she grabbed his cock and started tugging it as though trying to remove it from his body. She then bent over and stuffed it all into her mouth, sucking it until it got hard. Once stiff she stepped back slightly and lightly flicked it with her crop. She bent over him once again and started properly sucking his dick.
She gagged as she deep-throated him and a line of spittle dribbled down her chin. She took his cock out of her mouth, spat on it and then started rubbing it with both hands. She rubbed the end of his dick on her nipples and the metal felt electric. Arnold watched her as her mouth and her tits fucked his pulsing nob. He tensed against his restraints and the ball gag made him want to continually swallow, but he wasn’t about to complain.
Chun Lee let go of his cock and, pulling apart his buttocks spat into his arse hole. She then went down and started licking his anus, gently at first and then harder, pushing her stiff tongue into his ring. She left for a moment and when she came back she was holding a polished onyx dildo and a tube of lubricant. Sebastian Arnold started at her wide-eyed and started struggling against the shackles. His fruitless efforts only got him another lash of the whip however and he lay helplessly and watched as this crazy Japanese woman shoved a giant dildo up his arse.
He winced as the thing penetrated his hole and immediately felt like he needed a shit. The sensation grew strange as she started to slowly thrust the thing in and out and he honestly didn’t know if he liked it or not. It didn’t feel as horrific as he had been expecting but he wasn’t sure that it was pleasant either. The procedure took on a different set of sensations however when the woman grabbed his dick again and started pumping it while she continued to ram his arse hole.
His brain could no longer process all the facets of stimuli it was receiving and Arnold simply laid back and let it happen. The barrier between pain and pleasure was starting to blur and his heart began racing when Chun Lee stopped what she was doing.
“Want to see my pussy you bitch?” she said and climbed up on all fours onto the table and began to slowly crawl up towards his face. Her awesome tits were swinging so delightfully and enticingly and she let them drop onto his dick and gave them a jiggle. She let them dance on his dick and his balls, and as he watched Arnold realised he had never, ever been this turned on before.
Eventually she reached his face and let her tits dangle inches from him. He struggled against his bonds to grab them but it was useless and she simply wobbled them just out of reach. This was now becoming torture for Arnold and he wanted to get up and absolutely fuck her into a different dimension, but he could do nothing. She was in total control.
Chun Lee knelt up and shuffled forwards until her cunt was directly over his face then she gently lowered herself onto him and started thrusting her hips back and forth, spreading her slime all over his nose and his forehead. He wanted to lick it but again he was impotent and the smell of her was starting to drive him crazy.
After a minute or two of riding his face she shuffled back down and impaled herself on his swollen cock. He felt his foreskin peel back as she took his full length and she started fucking him like a wild animal. She shagged him harder and harder, her tits bobbing up and down and her chains rattling and Sebastian Arnold could feel himself getting close to exploding. Chun Lee’s groans were getting louder as she fucked him harder and Arnold could see the beads of sweat trickling down between her swinging tits. After another minute or so of furious animal sex she let out some unholy howl and as her back arched she came in a massive spurt of lady-cum and the sweet liquid poured all over Arnold's crotch.
She got off the table, sweating and shaking and grabbed his cock again. She sucked him to a climax and he came like a nuclear device detonating. As wave after wave of ecstasy rippled through his entire body he shot spurt after spurt of hot jism into her mouth and down her throat. She swallowed it all and smiled at him and at that moment she never looked so beautiful.
Chun Lee untied him and they both got dressed. They left the dungeon room together and Chun Lee walked with Arnold to the exit. As she tapped in the code to unlock the door she looked at him and smiled again.
“Thanks, that was fun.”
“Right back at you.” Arnold said and left. As the heavy steel door slammed shut behind him Sebastian Arnold’s universe turned to particles and the hazy outline of the penthouse became real in his mind.
He sat blinking for a moment, a little disoriented until reality finally seeped into his brain and he remembered where he was. He sat up, removed the trodes and heard the gentle tones of McCartney singing Rocky Raccoon. He slowly stood up and set off to the bathroom to clean himself up.
“Shit.” He said aloud as he saw the slowly spreading damp patch in his crotch. He would have to get this suit cleaned now.
The End.
Copyright Dougaldick ©2011 -->
Jerri
- 20.12.2020
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