The Set Up

Conan Steel is the cruel but brilliant twenty something millionaire CEO of a soft furnishings company in Rochdale. He acquires a young intern, the beautiful and headstrong Alexandra Rasputin, the daughter of Russian émigrés. Steel is intrigued by her ethereal nature and confession that she is a virgin. In turn, Rasputin is both attracted and frightened by the handsome big swinging dick with a capricious and sadistic temperament, and fascinated by the small clues he gives to his tormented upbringing, such as his father forcing him to attend Stockport County home matches in the late 1990s. Upon learning she is auctioning her hymen on E-bay, and fuelled by longing and jealousy, Steel psychologically and financially coerces her into signing a non-disclosure deal guaranteeing him first crack at her cherry and then exclusive sexual access until she runs to fat. She must also be his submissive willing to explore her most extreme desires and enter the twilight world of BDSM (Christmas and bank holidays excepted). Rasputin is at first appalled by his perversions, which include an insatiable appetite for bondage, sado-masochism, water sports and Top Gear re-runs, but as she becomes more sexually confident she begins to be addicted emotionally and physically to the marathon BDSM sessions conducted in ‘The Rumpo Room’. As the sessions progress, Steel gradually reveals more of his tortured psyche, allowing Rasputin to see the vulnerable little boy within his corporate warrior carapace and understand his dark desires. It is at the end of one of these sessions, as Rasputin tenderly removes a strap on from his anus, that their eyes lock like laser beams and they realise that this is more than an erotic business arrangement this is now a love affair ... Driving home to his luxury duplex apartment in Oldham, and taking extra care to avoid the speed bumps, Steel texts Rasputin saying they must never see each other again for he can never dare to love ... now dear reader enjoy some fragments from the love affair of this century...

The Steel Cock Is Her Destiny

Steel is in his office taking an important call from his transatlantic trading partner Torn Rip, whose thriving business empire is located over a hardware shop in Wisconsin. Alexandra enters holding a silver tea tray with his elevenses, a pot of tea and a packet of chocolate digestives. She is trembling, having in her short time as an intern come to feel a curious mixture of love, hate and desire towards Steel. He is rich, cultivated and handsome, with exquisitely chiseled features and a lion like mane of blonde hair. Conan feels a stirring in his nether, his cock a titanium springed sex cobra. He can smell her wet pussy from ten feet. The Rasputin girl is a particularly enticing morsel, with her lustrous long black hair, her fulsome luscious red lips, deliciously pert hard nippled tits and seemingly endless slender long legs. She is wearing a low cut white blouse, a black pencil skirt and killer heels. Torn’s voice echoes through the intercom.

“Goddamn sack of country shit!”

The line falls dead. Conan fixes Alexandra with his cobalt blue eyes and she feels her knees weaken under the ferocity of his glare, her cunt wetter than a toddler’s nappy. His gaze is magnetic and burning, fused with erotic desire and hinting at the demons that wrestle inside his tortured soul. She feels like one of the ants her brother used to scorch by refracting the sun through a magnifying glass on the scurrying insects during the summer holidays. Looking deep into Alexandra’s brown doe eyes that convey vulnerability like a kitten left out in the rain and an unlocked, ferocious sexuality, Steel is torn apart inside by conflicting desires; should he love and nurture this beautiful child woman or just find a flimsy pretext to slip her some Rohypnol and get her attached to the Titty Twister machine in The Rumpo Room? Conan is so lost in rapture Alexandra suspects he is stricken by Bell’s palsy. Suddenly he leaps from behind his desk and rips off his shirt and trousers. He stands, tall and commanding, in his boxer shorts and black socks. Alexandra gasps at his finely toned body, not an ounce of fat and muscular with an abdominal rack you could grate cheese on.

“You are so freakin’ hot!” shrieks Alexandra. Steel is puzzled by her American accent as she has spent her formative years in Widnes.

“Alexandra.” purrs Steel like a mongoose toying with a boa constrictor, “This is your destiny!”

He drops his boxer shorts and his magnificent unfettered manhood, a member of awesome length and girth, fires upwards like a clown sprung from a circus canon.

Alexandra shrieks. The uncoiled tool has dislodged the silver tea tray from her gasp, the pot of tea scorching her breasts as it begins its journey to the floor. Steel’s eyes turn round in their sockets like rolling marbles as he surveys the wet blouse clinging to her erect nipples. He emits a low animalistic growl through pursed lips, places his left hand on his right bicep and raises a defiant fist. Maybe, Alexandra thinks, this is a mating ritual sign gleaned from his gap year spent in the Congo. Steel presses her tight against him and squeezes her buttocks, “Tonight Alexandra I shall take your most cherished possession, your virginity, and I shall introduce to a world of carnal delights both tender and cruel.”

The Morning After

Alexandra is lying in the king-size bed in a dreamlike state. Did she imagine last night? His tender caresses, the way he smothered her with kisses and held her tight in his strong unyielding grip before administering his monstrous length with the utmost delicacy. How it hurt so much when he deflowered her and how over the next half dozen times they made love through the night the pain lessened and the pleasure became increasingly dizzying as she writhed on his body and pounded his flesh sword of love with her sex plunger. She had detonated with multiple orgasms on his cock, quivering and squealing to the extent at one point he enquired if she was on medication for epilepsy. They made love in almost every position advertised in the battered copy of the Karma Sutra he possessed. He had tongued and fingered her pussy so she gently she sprayed his face with cunt juice and later she took his sex in her mouth and tasted his ejaculate, becoming totally overwhelmed by the sensory overload. It had been a memorable night for Steel also; he had gathered together the bloody bed sheets that evidenced the taking of her virginity. She had seen what lay beneath the sardonic and dismissive demeanor he normally displayed, a caring and loving but slightly damaged man. Steel enters the bedroom bearing a tray carrying orange juice, fresh croissants and a vase with a red rose in it. He is wearing a black t-shirt emblazoned with the words ‘Pound the Mound’ in white lettering and a depiction of a clenched fist underneath the banner. Steel places the tray on the bedside table and steps back to admire her. Out of his pocket he takes a morning after pill and an address card for the nearest STD clinic. Alexandra is naked and supine on top of the satin bed sheets, her left leg flat against the mattress and fully extended while her right leg is raised in the air and bent at the knee. The pose neatly parts her pussy lips, and he salivates at the sight of her musky sex swamp.

“You cock tease,” hisses Conan.

Alexandra explains she is working out cramp. Soon they are merged together in sexual congress, entering a world of corporeal ecstasy. She ignites on his cock, delirious with orgasmic pleasure. Steel violently discharges soon after with anguished intensity. In a rare display of contrition he apologises and opens a window.

Fifty Shades of Fey

The Villa

For a superficially distant and cruelly sardonic man Conan Steel was a surprisingly generous and attentive lover, at least away from the Rumpo Room. There he is the hammer and she the anvil, he dominant she submissive, but here on the king-size bed in the master bedroom of his exclusive luxury beach front villa in Fleetwood they are equals. He is gently fingering Alexandra’s wet pussy and licking her clitoris as she runs her scarlet fingernails through his leonine blonde hair. She is moaning softly, her long sinuous legs hooked around his broad muscular shoulders, in a transcendent state of ecstasy. Of course, with Conan being her only lover, Alexandra has no one to compare his sexual prowess to, but she cannot imagine another man measuring up to him, not least in the cock department. She regards his dick as a beautiful thing, a piece of flesh art, circumcised and vein less, of considerable girth and length, as if carved from the finest marble by Michelangelo. Conan kisses her stomach tenderly and works his upwards until they fuse in a passionate kiss, tongues deep in each other’s mouths, his hand still on her cunt, rubbing her clitoris, transporting her to the dizziest heights of pleasure. They are both dripping with sweat, from the sex and the electric blanket he had to put on due to the inclement summer weather. Alexandra is begging him to enter her but he refuses, till she is feverish with cock hunger. Finally he mounts her, and even then he is a cunt tease, keeping the tip of his cock just inside her pussy and working it in and out before she digs her nails deep into his back and practically pulls him into her. Her eyes (she has two of them) roll upwards and she nearly loses consciousness as the monster schlong ploughs her. Conan now moves up a gear, pounding her mound relentlessly, pausing now and again to wipe his dripping brow on her stiff nippled tits. Alexandra is now so dong delirious she has entered into a shamanistic state, speaking in an alien tongue, begging him to lob his load up her in fluent Urdu. Conan moans. Alexandra groans. The cock carnival has made her eyes cross in a manner suggestive of the silent film actor Ben Turpin. Conan’s eyes (he also has two) are now cobalt erotic laser beams burning his initials onto her undulating breasts. Her legs are now so far up his back she is stroking his ears with her toes. She has been training her pussy to have a tighter grip all week by inserting a fountain pen up her vagina and clenching it with her cunt muscles (when her mother had walked in on her doing this she did not seem convinced by Alexandra’s explanation that she was composing a shopping list; her father later told her she could keep hold of his pen). Her super tight super bad sex swamp begins to work its magic and Steel’s almost supernatural sexual self control begins to waver. Alexandra is frenzied, having orgasm after orgasm and she is in almost a catatonic state when Conan comes deep inside her, they are merged at the groin, melting into each other’s bones, becoming as one. They lie satiated side by side, gazing intently into each others eyes (all four of them, now not rolling upwards) communicating profound inner truths without so much as a word ... they had come a long way since the first time she had entered the Rumpo Room...