Mr. Thomas Anders is a complete, fucking wreck after his “interview” with Ms. Tanya Torra.  In fact, it was a less than twenty-minute, outrageously seductive encounter.  She enticed and inspected and belittled and dominated him with ease.  He staggered from her office wildly aroused and trembling in disbelief.

Now, sitting in his old car, he attempts to calm his emotions.  “Oh, gawd,” he pants over and over, struggling not to touch his raging hard-on.  He closes his eyes, only to see Her in his mind’s eye – gorgeous beyond measure, arrogant beyond belief.  His mouth is dry, his palms are sweaty.  Looking at his watch, it reads 3:07.  “What?” he fumes.  He knows that’s not right, so he checks his cell, which reads 7:07.  He tosses the watch in the trash. It’s going to be pure agony until 11:00 tonight.

Thirty minutes before his final interview Tommy is directed to a parking structure by the doorman of Ms. Torra’s elegant residential building.  He drives over and up the ramp to the top level of the garage.  Entering the code he’s been given, he proceeds to park in his assigned space, number 374.  As he walks toward the stairs, he notices that there are many spaces higher than his number but very few below.  He’s momentarily perplexed before the anticipation of tonight thoroughly grips him again.  What will She be like?  What is he in for? 

Walking a couple of blocks, he is ushered into the foyer and then the elevator lobby of Her building.  Up he is whisked to the penthouse floor.  He is shaking uncontrollably as the door opens.  The entry is chic with gloss black and gold everywhere.  Two plush chairs are arranged at the far end around a low coffee table with a base that resembles a crouching black panther.  In the chairs are seated a pair of shapely, mini-skirted gals.

Mr. Anders approaches them. “I am Tom An…” he is interrupted by their duet, “Hell-ohh, Tommy.”

They stand smartly, each tugging down the extremely short red spandex that clings to their hourglass figures. 

“You are right on time,” says one. 

“And cute as a bug,” says the other. 

He stops in the center of the room watching them suggestively sashay towards him.  Upon arriving, both begin running their hands over his arms and chest. 

“Uhh, Mandy, he’s prime,” says the brunette. 

“I like him, Sandy,” is the redhead’s response. 

They slide their arms through his and guide him over to a diffused glass door.  It slides open as he hears them giggle, “Fun tonight, babe.”

Escorting him down a hallway, they maneuver Tommy into an ante-like room.  The space is eerie with neon purple lighting and polished metal walls.

“Honey,” Sandy utters, “Mandy and I are going to relax you.” 

“And get you ready for the boss ladies,” adds Mandy.  With that said, one slips behind him and the other starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Ahh,” Thomas gasps as fingers knead his buns. Then he goes silent while his nips are massaged, and other hands wriggle onto his groin.  Multiple fingers find and skillfully undo his belt and unzip his slacks.  He closes his eyes when his boxers are invaded, and his surging member is freed.

“He’s plump,” the voice from behind purrs. 

“And getting tall,” from in front. 

Both pixies pull out his shirttail and quickly remove the garment. 

“I want to see him,” Mandy exclaims moving around to join Sandy. 

“Ohh, yummy,” she pronounces, softly grabbing his ball sac while Sandy commences stroking his hardening shaft.

“We want you naked,” one declares.  His pants are tugged downward, then the two babes shove him onto a low bench. 

Both kneel down and Tommy stares at splendid cleavages between two pairs of ripe breasts.  He’s simply not comprehending how lucky he is to be in their care.  Quickly they extract his shoes, socks, and slacks, tossing them aside.  Hands slither up both his legs as one vamp arises, towering over him.  Sandy steps away, while Mandy leans and kisses Tommy’s inner thigh, moving inward with every smooch.

“I th, think you two, a, are…ahhh,” Mr. Anders stops talking as a tongue glides up the tender underside of his stiffness and a moist mouth engulfs his leaking head.  He gazes on Sandy as she undulates suggestively out of her bodycon dress to reveal a luscious, nude, sun-drenched body.  Meanwhile Mandy’s tongue swirls like a tornado as she takes his already seven inches and growing completely in. 

Tommy is squirming with a sensation he’s never known.  Sandy steps forward and whispers, “My turn.” 

Mandy vacuums up and off his throbbing cock and Sandy immediately takes her place.  Their boytoy moans with pleasure.  Standing gracefully, Mandy sheds her glistening red sheath even faster than her companion.

“Goddess Torra has requested a calming massage,” he hears as Sandy gives his member a long powerful suck before disengaging. “Come on, baby, up on the big-boy bench.” 

The pair of foxes lift Tommy up and guide his stimulated body over and onto a table-height padded surface.  

“Lie down on your back,” Mandy says, and Sandy is working his shoulders as he does.  The redhead moves to his lower body and begins kneading his abs.  Their technique is soothing and sensual.  Tommy is standing at full, steel hard attention.

After several minutes of rubbing in silence, each lady takes his extremities, Sandy his arms and Mandy his legs. 

“You’re so tense” he hears, “and so distracted.” 

“We want you in cute, little restraints to continue, O.K., baby.” 

Tommy babbles a compliant response as clamps swiftly are attached to his wrists and ankles.  Both babes move to kiss him and tongue his ears. 

“You are so handsome.” 

“So charming.”  

“So delicious.” 

“So hung.” 

“We want to fuck you all night, but…”

“Yes, please,” he says breathlessly.

“Oh, honey,” Sandy giggles, “We can’t.” 

“Goddess Torra wants you soon, and Mistress Stark is first,” Mandy adds with a frown.

At the mention of these two erotic beauties, Tommy’s heart leaps.  Mistress, Goddess – is this really possible?  He shivers and wiggles feeling the taut metal retaining him.  “I, ah,” he attempts, but his mouth is smothered with lips and tongues.  His cock is softly stroked. 

Then suddenly darkness ensues as his head is raised and a blindfold encircles his eyes. 

“Baby-boy,” he hears, “Ms. Stark will be here soon, and she loves to surprise her fellas.” 

Tommy hears a commotion and the swish of spandex. 

“Sandy?” he calls out, “Mandy?”

“Bye, honey.” 

“Maybe later.” 

The sound of a door closing is followed by abrupt stillness.

______________________________________________________________________

To say Tommy is aroused doesn’t approach his crazed sexual anxiety.  The two vixens have primed him to the point of bursting and left him spurned.  In this blacked-out state, his mind spins with visions of them.  His balls tingle for them.  He must calm himself.  Ms. Stark must be nearby.  He must be ready for whatever She wants of him.  Yet what can he do, held down tight like a sacrifice?    

A few moments pass till he hears a muted conversation from the adjacent room.  Then the door slides open, and the sound of high heels reverberates in the small space.  Oh, to be able to see his mind yearns woefully.  A female speaks softly, “Tommy.”  He recognizes the voice of Ms. Stark and whines with aching lust.

He senses Her approach and suddenly She begins to kiss him profusely.  Her lips are warm and lush.  He smells sex, female sex on Her breath which excites him beyond belief.

“I’ve been playing while I waited for you, baby,” Ms. Stark murmurs before a tongue trails around the lobe of his ear.  Fingers softly touch his raging hard-on, then lightly slide down its slippery shaft.  “This is so tempting,” the breathy whisper drifts in the air.

“Ohh, pleezz,” Thomas mournfully begs, thrusting his hips upward and humping only air in yearning frustration.

“Maybe someday,” She snickers as the sound of creaking leather follows.  “It’s my turn tonight.  Now get Ms. Stark off like a good boytoy should.” 

Tommy feels both his cheeks brushed by a fragrant smooth surface.  Then the unmistakable scent of aroused pussy invades his nostrils as She settles down onto his mouth.  In his mind, he conceives the view of her swollen lips and licks upward with utter abandon.  He encounters no hair, enthralled that Her moist temple is delectably bare.  She moves in slow undulations presenting a hard protruding clit for his attention.  He sucks on it and flicks it as strong and fast as he can.  She gives out a series of guttural moans quickening the pace.

Ms. Stark is now lunging back and forth across his tongue, hissing, ”Deeper, bitch, deeper.”

Tommy is lost in mindless lust, plunging and lashing blindly at Her unseen treasure.  His head is being savagely whipped against the bench.  She is going wild, growling like a wanton beast.  His head is squeezed between Her thighs as if trapped in a vice.

“Yes, yes… fuck…yezzzz,” She screams and juices splash onto his face and explode into his mouth.  He frantically tries to suck in the hot flow as She freezes in place and quivers violently.  The orgasm seems to go on forever with Tommy unable to take a breath.  Dizziness is overcoming him, and he panics, but cannot move a muscle.  His thinking blurs and his consciousness recedes.

Mercifully, She rises off of his face and he frantically gasps for air.  In and out he gulps while Ms. Stark nimbly dismounts.  A hand gently pats his cheek, “That will do for now, sweetie.”

Sensing Her move away, he hears Her call out, “Mandy, bring My car around.” 

From a distance, the girl replies, “Which one, Mistress?”

“Umm, I’ll have the Ferrari this evening.  I’m taking Number 373 clubbing, then to the villa.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Has he been fully manscaped?”

“Yes, completely.”

“Excellent. Now hurry, darling.”

“Of course, Mistress,” and quick footsteps fade away as Mandy scurries to do Mistress Stark’s bidding.                

“You were adequate,” he hears Her evaluating his performance, “but if I want to be worshipped again, I’ll train you to do much better.”  He senses Her closeness, then startles as a hand encircles his aching member. 

“I’m going to prepare you, Tommy-boy, for your next test.” 

She begins a rhythmic stroking of his hardness. He groans and writhes as silently Ms. Stark brings him up to the very edge of release.  She is gentle but insistent.  Tommy knows this is a highly skilled hand-job by an unseen teasing beauty.

Just at the brink, the hands are removed, and he whines pitifully.  His balls are in tortured pain.  His cock has never throbbed and yearned more in his life.  Seconds later She slips something over the bulging head of his cock and rolls it downward.  The condom slides easily to the base of his oozing man-meat before She lets it snap tight.  Without another word, Thomas hears Ms. Stark turn and exit the room.

______________________________________________________________________________

It seems like he’s been deserted.  His thoughts are running amok with the experiences he’s already been through.  He realizes that he’s soaked in sweat, covered in drying juices, and still agonizingly in pitch black.  He has no idea what ‘the next test’ will be, but his mind and body excruciatingly long to find out.

The buzz of arousal is still sky-high in his loins when he hears the faint sound of approaching high heels.  The door is opened and what he thinks is a single figure slips in.  Seconds pass in eerie silence till on the air a whiff of perfume reaches him.  His heart races recognizing Ms. Torra’s fragrance from this afternoon.

She says nothing, moving around quietly.  Tommy is incredibly anxious, a combination of fright and suspense engulf him.  What She is doing is a mystery.  Then suddenly his hair is grabbed, and his head lifted from the bench.  A metal object encircles his neck and a loud clicking sound ensues.  He’s never worn an obedience collar before, but he’s quite sure he is now.

He senses Ms. Torra move along the side of the bench.  Abruptly, hands grasp his inflamed ball sac and another object is installed on his person.  This one is clamped tightly to the base of his re-awakened erection and the underside of his scrotum.  Then a low buzz is accompanied by the metal rings tightening in increments.  It firmly constricts his shaft until he groans in pain, “Ahhh, ahhh.”

“Hush,” is Her first word, and an obvious command.  The latex-encased cock projecting up from his groin is clenched suddenly.  She begins to stroke it lightly with both hands.  With each upward motion, fingers tease its extremely sensitive head.  In seconds Tommy is hyperventilating with the on-rushing sensation.  He’s going to cum.  She’s going to let him cum.  He feels the boiling deep inside, but the build-up is just that.  An urge so strong that’s denied by the contraption on his genitals.  He arches his back and strains and mumbles, “Please, please.”

Ms. Torra chuckles cruelly as the strokes become more demanding, more stimulating.  She is driving him mad for relief.  The pain increases unbearably. 

Then abruptly She stops. 

“Umm, bay-bee,” She coos.

His blindfold is tugged off smartly and he sees The Goddess to his side in a blur of purple glow.  She is bewitching.  Fierce and sultry, yet divinely elegant.  Dark, severe makeup accentuates Her piercing stare.  Ruby lips are pursed in a sly scowl.  Shimmering hair swoops over one eye and cascades downward.  Gloss, black leather is molded skin fit to Her colossal upper body.  A tall mandarin collar dramatizes Her treacherous, exquisite beauty.  By stretching against his restrains he can see Her spectacular, mouthwatering tits.  Ms. Torra is the very picture of the ‘Lady Dracula’, fangs concealed.  Tommy knows She is a dangerous, lethal predator of the night now, and not the aloof, teasing exec from this afternoon.

Goddess Torra smiles seductively, allowing him to take in Her wicked aura as She purrs, “I’ve decided that you will be my next intern, you’ll serve a 30-day unpaid probation period.  If you work sixty-hour weeks to my satisfaction then I will keep you as another one of My pets.”  While speaking Tommy’s fate, Her fingers squeeze and twist his nipples playfully. 

He squirms with incensed desire trying to express his thanks but suddenly being smothered with hard, demanding kisses and bites to his lips and neck.

“This is your initiation,” Ms. Torra whispers into his ear.  A long leg gracefully extends above him, its length encased in a thigh-high boot of shiny patent.  A towering stiletto heel flashes through his plane of vision, as does a trailing ebony metal spur.  Then she is straddling his captured form, Her glorious ass hovering above him.  A thick, luxurious mane of flowing tresses cover Her broad shoulders and tapered figure like a swirling cape. Then slowly ‘The Goddess’ descends, knees spread and bending.  A fleeting glimpse of the catsuit’s open crotch displays a glistening wet, glowing dark pink pussy.  She settles onto the throbbing head of his cock and takes it in, inch by slippery inch.  Tommy is euphoric, feeling the muscles of Her vagina constrict exceedingly taut.  They seem to envelop every vein and contour consuming all as Her property down to the hilt.

Immediately, Goddess Torra commences swaying, arms raised and swinging far above.  Rising up on bended knees, She then slams viciously downward once, twice…hundreds of times.  Ferociously humping his enormous prick, She snarls like a lioness in heat.  The ghostly purple light reflects off thrashing, curvaceous leather-like laser rays.  With utter abandon, She works herself up to a roaring orgasm.  Her screams echo in the room.

Coming down from the first high, She barely hesitates before resuming the rough, relentless bucking and fucking.  Her multiple peaks of ecstasy are numerous over the next half an hour.  Tommy is wrenched and bent mercilessly.  His whimpering to rest is totally ignored.  His package is brutalized, yet through all the physical passion he is denied any relief whatsoever.

Finally, finally Ms. Torra is thoroughly satisfied and ceases moving.  Tommy suddenly discovers that he hurts all over.  He’s humiliated at being used like a fuck-toy, but so enraptured by this sexual demoness.  He knows full well he adores Her, unconditionally.   

She adroitly dismounts, strutting away without a word or backward glance.  At the door stands Sandy and Mandy, evidently having watched for some time.  The Goddess proclaims in a loud, condescending tone, “It’s yours,” before disappearing into the hallway without breaking stride.  Tommy flops back on the bench in despair.  Tears well up in his closed eyes.

In seconds the two tarts are all over him.  One releasing his tragically abused cock from its restrictive rings, while the other zips the pre-cum drenched condom off.  Both items are tossed carelessly aside as they attack his inconceivably still-hard erection.  Soft hands slither up and down the shaft as they swiftly bring him to the precipice of ungodly delayed release.    

“Say please,” one says, and Tommy does in a horse, pleading voice.  

“Pretty please,” is next and desperately repeated. 

Then, “I worship and obey Goddess Torra.”

Tommy Anders struggles, panting out each word in rhythm with their strokes, but upon pronouncing Her name he gloriously erupts.  The streams of jizz shoot nearly to the ceiling before arcing and falling back down to plop onto his ravaged body.  He cries out as they pump him savagely.  The pain and exhilaration overwhelm his every sense.  His testicles are on fire, his penis as well.  The “cum of his life” continues for almost a minute.  Ultimately he slumps back down like a rag doll, spent and completely exhausted.

Mandy kisses him on the forehead, and Sandy follows.  “Good boy,” they exclaim in girlish giggles, prancing about.  He’s quite suddenly and horribly sleepy.  Closing his eyes, he feels the restraints being removed.  Seconds later, Sandy is raising his head and Mandy is offering a glass of water.  “Drink, baby,” they suggest.  Tommy takes the straw and sucks ravenously till it’s all gone.  They lay him back and start gently caressing his face and whispering softly.  Mr. Anders begins feeling slightly dizzy, but so soothed.  Then weakness overtakes him as the girls’ voices dissolve into a mellow hum.  Then he peacefully fades into unconsciousness…

____________________________________________________________________

…Thomas awakens suddenly.  Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he realizes he’s in his own apartment.  He’s been drugged and returned here.  Sitting up with a jerk he’s astonished to see he’s still naked with one glaring exception.  An elaborate, shiny cage is locked taut around his genitals, and it bears an engraving “# 374.”

Looking around his disheveled place, his open computer comes into view.  The screen is a pulsing red, something he’s not seen before.  Pushing himself off his sofa, Tommy staggers over to the machine.  He clicks to acquire his desktop and is stunned at what pops up: the “Torranation” logo.  He keystrokes again and a detailed “Schedule of Work” appears bearing his name and number (374).  It indicates activities for the month under two headings.

Office: data entry, programming and various other tasks; and

Penthouse: domestics, laundry, and wardrobe care.

Finally, he reads an entry that excites him to the core of his very being: Pleasuring Goddess Torra – Tuesday 9:00 P.M. till dismissal.