Another Assignment for Sappho
The General knew about Sappho’s triste with Baamu but he was not overly concerned. As usual, he had blood samples taken from all of his staff every week to check for medical conditions or any transmitted diseases and all variances were reported to him. His reasoning was that, even though some of these took months to incubate, he’d rather know sooner than later…
The meeting with an Investment Bank was scheduled for the next morning at 1100hrs and the Goal was to identify and sound-out prospective buyers for the mineral rights…
However, before they left, the Chairman invited them to join him at his Schloss for the weekend and he asked, specifically, for Sappho to attend.
They got there in the early morning, just after dawn, and in time to join a Hunting Party where everyone got into Tweeds before climbing into a series of 4x4s and heading off to the mountains. Sappho found herself in the same vehicle as the Chairman and the General and their Host turned to ask her if she’d ever ‘shot’.
“No, Sir, in that respect, I’m a Virgin,” she smiled and the Chairman beamed!
“Not for much longer,” he thought to himself as his cock started to swell…
Their quarry was mountain deer so they were using rifles, not shotguns, and after strict orders were barked out by the Hunt Master or, as they called him, a Jagdaufseher, the pursuit began. These slopes were crawling with horned beasts, and the trail was crawling with quite a few horny-beasts, so finding game was not hard. When the time came to sight a lone buck, Sappho was given a small-calibre rifle, loaded with a high impact cartridge, and mounted with a telescopic sight.
As they approached a herd from downwind the Chairman pointed to a grass-covered knoll and urged Sappho to lie, face-down, and spread her legs. He gave her the rifle and then, remarkably, lay on top of her; spread his own legs over hers, nestled the stock into her shoulder, and his cock into the cleft between her buttocks, then he placed his cheek alongside hers.
He, himself, sighted the weapon then reached around, held her hands as she cradled the breech, eyed the scope, fingered the trigger and told her how to check the sights as he instructed her to size-up the young buck.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Sappho whispered, “Yes.”
Then there was a crack and those with binoculars saw the ungulate buckle and crumple as the bullet ripped into its body just behind the shoulder.
“Well, Sappho; that’s not bad for a Virgin!”
When they approached their game, Sappho was initiated into ‘the Way of the Hunter’ as blood from her first kill was daubed on her forehead and cheeks. It seemed to Sappho that more and more body art was being added by all the men in her life and that everyone wanted to paint on her skin. However, at this time, no one on the banking side was aware of her tattoos, or her piercings, or her depilation: but that was to change…
That evening she was wearing a close-fitting, black and white, zebra-striped evening gown whose neckline plunged to her waist which, together with the backless design, exposed, to the full extent, her body art. The décolletage did not reveal her pierced nipples but it was clear she wore no underwear and it could not fail to reveal the conical form of her breasts…
The Chairman turned to the General and asked if he minded him putting-up Sappho for auction. The General replied; “Mr. Chairman, be my guest!”
Then he turned to Sappho and told her she was to be auctioned and that the winner would spend the night with her; where anything would go.
Sappho smiled but made no comment.
“How will you respond to such a proposition?”
“Herr Doktor, you have already taken my virginity once today: how can I refuse you taking it another three, four, five or more, times tonight?”
The President of the Bank was summoned and given the Rules: Sappho would be paraded around the Hall dressed as she was and then she would change her clothes and be led around in leathers. Bids would be taken and must be settled on the night…
“Gentlemen, we will begin with a Reserve Price of €1m: who will be first?”
It was like a Trading Floor as a cacophony of shouts accompanied a shower bids in units of €250 000 as the auction began.
There was, of course, an unspoken protocol that, once he’d entered the bidding, no one would outbid the Chairman, who, in fact, was a Duke. His lineage sprang from an ancient line of Royalty, long-since defunct; yet the auction ended with one cheque for €5m being donated to Charity and another for €5m given to Sappho as they climbed the stairs to his bedroom.
Then the fucking began!
It started immediately he closed the door when he pressed her to the floor, took hold of the leash and drew her head into his groin by lacing the dog-chain between his legs and pulling Sappho’s head into his crotch. It was her job to open his flies, which were bursting behind the zip, and the tension in the chain kept getting tighter and tighter as she fumbled her way inside his pants.
At last his prick popped out but, before she was able to slip it between her lips, he erupted and it splashed onto her forehead: he was embarrassed, of course, but Sappho saved his face by saying, “I’ve cum, too!”
Then she scooped-up his jissum, let it run passed her tonsils, looked into his eyes and swallowed him up to the hilt; all the way into her throat.
Then he just grabbed her hair and fucked her in the mouth until he came and came again…
Then, still engaging his eyes, she used her lips to roll back his foreskin and poked her tongue, further, into the hole at the end of his dick, and sucked him to an almighty orgasm which, in a man, is not always accompanied by an ejaculation. This time it was and Sappho anticipated it before withdrawing her lips and saying, “Give it to me in the face and then lick it off!”
“Thank you, Sappho: I needed someone to take me in hand and, from now on, I will treat you with more discernment and a lot more respect!”
“Your Highness, I’m your whore for tonight and I expect to be treated like a whore: so, I will fuck you and you will fuck me and you will do with me whatever you want!” After all, you’re paying for it and my job is to give you something to remember…
“Sappho, I want your ass?” he seemed to question.
“Take it, my Lord; it’s yours. How do you want it? Shall I kneel? Do you want to take me missionary style? Shall I stand against the wall or do you want me mounted on your armchair? Tell me, Your Highness; my ass is yours!”
She could feel him hardening inside her as he contented himself by fucking her again and again, knowing the ‘ultimate prize’ was waiting for him…
When he had come again he dragged on the chain and ordered her to lay, spread-eagled and starfish-fashion, face down, on the four-poster bed.
Suddenly, he lashed her wrists and ankles to the corner posts and, when his rope work was complete, positioned a pillow under her belly and then replicated their first physical encounter on the grassy knoll: he mounted her from behind.
This time there were no tweeds between her ass and his cock: so, there was nothing to obstruct his entry and he slipped easily inside her ultra-soft bum-hole where he stayed embedded in her backside, doing her from behind, for the rest of the night; and there he remained, sawing in and out of her innards, and filling her rectum to brimming with his spunk.