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Subject: {ASSM} BLACK STALLION ESCORT SERVICE, PART TWO 
Date: Tue, 21 Oct 2003 18:10:05 -0400
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                            BLACK STALLION ESCORT SERVICE
                               CHAPTER TWO: THE INTERVIEW 
  I got to the interview right on time. At first I thought Sharon had given me
the wrong address; the place was located in a big office building downtown.
When I got off the elevator, I walked into a fancy reception area that looked
like an office for some Fortune 500 company. There was even a hot-looking Asian
girl at the reception desk, taking calls. She put a caller on hold and looked
up at me with a brilliant smile. "Are you Marcus?" I nodded. "Good," she said,
"Have a seat. She'll be right with you." 

   She? I thought. I shook my head and sat down on the big leather couch in the
reception area. This was like no escort service I ever heard of. But as I
eavesdropped on the receptionist, I knew there was something different going on
here. "I'm sorry," she was saying, "but your regular fellow isn't available
then...how about Antoine? He's just your type...he measures 8 inches fully
erect, and he's very thick...okay, great. He'll see you after the premiere.
You'll send the limo? Great. He'll be ready." She hung up and caught me
staring. She laughed out loud at the expression on my face. "You must be new in
town," she said teasingly. She touched a button on the intercom. "The new guy
is here, ma'am...yes, ma'am." She motioned to the door behind her. "Go on in." 

    The woman seated behind the huge desk was in her early forties, with
perfectly done up platinum-blonde hair. She wore an expensive looking
light-blue business suit that fit her perfectly, showing off the taut curves of
her body without being obvious. Either the years had been kind or she had a
great plastic surgeon; there didn't seem to be an ounce of sagging flesh
anywhere on her. Her eyes were bright blue and sharp. I had a feeling this was
a woman it wouldn't be easy to fool. She got up and shook my hand. "You must be
 Marcus," she said. She had a slight Eastern European accent that I couldn't
place exactly. "My name is Anya. Sharon was very complimentary of you." I
started to sit down at the same time she did, but she motioned to me. "Remain
standing, please," she said, the last word coming out as pliss.  I stood there,
feeling like a piece of meat on display, which I guess I was. She surveyed me
for a few minutes, looking at my body with a cold appraising eye and I started
to feel a little uncomfortable.  -~Take off your shirt, please." 

   Well, as long as you ask me nicely....I thought. I tool off my shirt and
laid it over the back of the chair. She nodded in approval. "You work out?" she
said. 

   "Uhhh...yeah," I said. "Three times a week." 

    "Good," she nodded. "You must increase it, though. Physical strength is
very important to some of our  clients, as is visual presentation. Any
aerobics?" 

    "I run five miles three times a week," I said. 

    "Excellent. Stamina is vital. The pants now. Please." I took them off. "And
the briefs," she said. I took a deep breath and dropped them. Anya raised an
eyebrow, but had no other reaction.  "Very impressive," she said. 

   "Thanks," I said. What else was there to say? 

    "How big are you when fully erect?" she asked, as matter of factly as if
she was asking my height or weight. 

    "What?" I replied. "You think I measure it?" 

     She threw back her head and laughed. "Of course," she said. "Every man
measures it." 

    "Twelve inches," I said. 

     She smiled. "Very good," she said. She leaned back in her chair. "You see,
Marcus, many of our white female clients have a specific fantasy in mind when
they think of having sex with a black man. Thanks to societal conditioning,
those fantasies often involve stereotypes...that black men are stronger, more
sexually potent...better endowed. Does that bother you?" 

     It felt totally wack to be standing there with my pants around my ankles
discussing societal conditions and racial stereotypes with this ice queen, but
I've been on enough auditions to roll with just about anything.. "Yeah," I
said. "A little."

   She nodded understandingly. "Yes," she said. "It is good that you are
honest. Will it keep you from performing?" 

    "Lady," I grinned. "Ain't nothing gonna keep me from performing." 

     She smiled. "Excellent," she said. "Now I need you to get hard for me." 

     I didn't think I heard right. "Uh..excuse me?" 

     "I need to see your erection," she said. "Get hard for me." 

     Well, if there was any way to soft-boil a hard-on, that clinical tone of
voice was it. But I figured this was a test, so I closed my eyes. I thought
about this blonde bitch, on her knees, that perfect hair undone, her mouth full
of  my thick black cock, I thought about her bent over that desk, screaming as
I fucked her ass hard and made her beg for more. I felt the blood rush to my
dick, felt it throbbing to its full size. I opened my eyes. 

  Anya was still sitting there, still smiling that inscrutable smile. She
nodded once, then got  up and walked around the desk towards me. I started to
reach for her, but she gently pushed my hand away and walked past me. She went
to  a door on the opposite side of the room from where I'd come in. "Follow me,
please," she said. 

   I thought for a moment of picking up my clothes, but she was already out the
door, so I followed, still naked, my dick still hard and sticking out in front
of me. The door led into a short hallway with doors all along it and another
door at the end. Anya looked back over her shoulder, still smiling, as she
unlocked the door. I followed her into the room.

  It was a small bedroom, dominated by a huge four-poster bed. That, a bureau,
and a large easy chair beside the bed were the only furnishings. There were no
windows; the room's only illumination was provided by track lights focused on
the bed. There was a girl lying on the bed. 

   She was a slim redhead who looked no older than sixteen or seventeen. Her
long red hair was tied into a braid that reached the small of her back. She was
dressed  in a pair of leather shorts and a leather bikini top. She also wore a
matching black leather collar around her neck and matching black leather cuffs
on each wrist and ankle. I couldn't help but stare at her. Anya took a seat in
the easy chair and the redhead slid off the bed to kneel at her feet. She bowed
her head and kissed Anya's shoes. Anya reached down and grabbed the girl's
braid, using it to pull her head up. 

   "Logan," she said in a soft, but commanding voice, "This is Marcus. He will
be training you today." 

   The girl looked up at me. Her eyes zeroed in on my dick, which was still
hard. "Oh, God, Mistress Anya," she said, "I don't know if I can take one that
big..." She was silenced by Anya's hard slap to her face. I started forward to
stop her, but Anya held up her hand. For some reason, that stopped me.  

   "He thinks he's protecting you from being hurt," she purred to the girl on
the floor. "Isn't that funny?" 

   "Yes, Mistress Anya," the girl said. 

    "Tell Marcus here what you are," Anya said. "Better yet, show him. Take off
your shorts." 

    The girl stood up, her eyes cast down in shame. She quickly shucked off the
leather pants. She turned around, her back to me. I could see what looked like
a strangely shaped scar on her left ass-cheek. 

    "Come closer," Anya said. I did. Up close the scars looked strange,
slightly raised. Suddenly I realized what they were. 

     "Jesus," I said, "Is that a brand? You branded her?" 

     "Yes," Anya said. "Look what it says." 

     As I looked closer, my eyes resolved the tangled web of scars into actual
words: PAIN SLUT. 

     "Damn," I said. 

      Anya stood and ran a hand down the girl's back lovingly. "It was my
present to her on her twenty-first birthday," she said. "I burned it into her
flesh with an iron I crafted with my own hands. Tell Marcus how it felt,
Logan." 

   The girl turned to me. I expected to see fear or pain  in her eyes, but what
I saw there was nothing but pride. "It was the most intense thing I ever felt,"
she said. "It bound me to Mistress like nothing else ever had."  She picked up
Anya's hand and kissed it passionately. 

   I shook my head. "Dag," I said. "Y'all are some twisted bitches." 

   Anya only laughed. "That we are, Marcus," she said. "Now, I want you to show
me what you can do with our little pain-slut here. But I am going to set limits
on what you may do. Whether you can stay within those limits -"and what you can
do within them -"will determine if you are suitable for this type of
employment. You must be able to exercise control, because there will be times
when our clients cannot. Like Logan," she caressed the girl's shoulder again,
"although she is an extreme example." The girl shuddered under Anya's touch as
she went on. "Logan, unfortunately for her, has no limits. You could torture
her to death and she would cry out her love for you and orgasm as you did it.
Without me to protect her, Logan would have been some killer's  victim years
ago."  Anya looked at me. "Her type of extreme submissive is rare. But many of
our clients have -"exotic tastes. There will be times when you will have them
completely at your mercy. I need to know if you can be trusted to keep your
head in those situations. You understand?" 

   This place was getting weirder and weirder. But the redhead was obviously
getting turned on; I could see her nipples sticking up and her eyes were
glazed. This little piece of white ass was being offered to me, and I could do
anything I wanted with her...within limits. 

    "Alright," I said. "I'll play the game. Just tell me the rules, coach." 

     Anya removed her hand from the girl. "You may not leave marks that will be
visible for more than three days. You may not mark her in any way that will
show if she is wearing...let's say...a backless  evening gown. No permanent
scarring. Even if she begs you. And she will. Other than that, anything.
Anything at all." She stepped back and sat down again in the easy chair. 

    "You're going to watch?" I asked. 

     She arched an eyebrow at me. "Of course," she said. "Does that bother
you?" 

     "No," I said. "Feel free to join in, though." 

      She smiled coldly. "I'm sorry. I don't sleep with employees. It is bad
management." 

      I gestured to the girl. "What about her?" 

      For the first time, Anya showed irritation. Her eyebrows drew together
and she frowned. "Logan is not an employee," she said in a frosty voice. "I do
not sell her favors. I give them away sometimes. To amuse me. As a reward for
good service. But she is never...never...for sale." 

   I held up my hands. "Whoa, sorry, lady. I'm new here, you know. This is all
a little new to me." 

   Anya calmed down. "Yes, of course. Now. Begin." 

   I turned back to Logan. The slim redhead was trembling visibly now, with
fear or anticipation, I couldn't tell. For her, they were probably the same
thing. I stepped over and took her chin in my hand. I forced her to look down
at my erect dick. "You know what's gonna happen now, don't you, bitch?" I 
whispered.

    "Y-yes, s-s-sir..." she whimpered. 

     -~What?" I asked. "No Master?" 

     The girl looked panicky. "No, sir," she said, "M..Mistress hasn't given me
permission." 

     I looked over at Anya. Her smile was pure wickedness. "That's right," she
purred. "If you call him Master without my permission, you will be severely
punished." She turned to me. "And if you force the words from her lips despite
that, I will know you are right for this job." Logan moaned in fear as I turned
back to her. I grabbed her long red braid and wrapped it in my fist. . She
cried out in pain as I  used the handhold to force her to her knees. "Hands
behind your back, slut," I ordered. Weeping, she complied. I used the clips on
her wrist cuffs to fasten her hands together. She was helpless in that
position, and she knew it. I ran my hands roughly over her high, firm tits,
squeezing and pulling them harshly. Then I drew back my hand and smacked her
hard across the tits. 

  "AAAH!!" she cried out. "No! Please! Not agAAAAUGH!" as I slapped her tits
again. She tried to pull away, but my hand wrapped in her braid held her
pinned. 

  "What do you call me?" I said. Logan shook her head, weeping. I struck her
again. And again. She screamed with each blow, but I wasn't getting the word
Master out of her. Yet.

    "Perhaps you should try these,' Anya said. She held out a pair of tiny
C-clamps, like you'd find in a woodworking shop. Logan moaned at the sight. 

   "Thanks," I said. I took the clamps and turned back to the redhead. "Now,
bitch," I said, putting the first clamp on her right nipple. 
"What's...my...name?" I emphasized each word with a tightening of the clamp.
 -~AAAAAHHHh..." she screamed. She squealed in agony, but didn't say anything.
I took the second clamp and applied it to her left nipple.
 -~What's...my...name?" I did it again. Logan's eyes were glazed with the
constant pain, but she just shook her head. Damn, this little bitch was tough.
I turned to Anya. "I need my belt," I said. 

   "Look in the bedside table," she replied coolly. I did. There was a variety
of toys there: dildos, restraints, cuffs, whips and floggers, along with
several heavy leather straps. Logan was sobbing now and pleading for me not to
punish her. I threw her face down on the bed and held her there. I turned back
to the bedside table, picked one of the straps out  out and wrapped it in my
fist. I stroked it over the firm cheeks of Logan's ass for a moment before
bringing it down, hard. 

  "AIIIIEEEOWWWW!" she screamed.  -~Please, please, I'll..AAAAAHHHHH!" as I
brought it down again.
  
    "What's...my....NAME!?" I demanded , punctuating each word with another
blow of the strap. She only screamed in pain again.  I decided that pain wasn't
going to break her. I reached down, grabbed her hips and pulled her ass up,
forcing her head down on the bed. I slipped a hand between her slim thighs and
stroked her pussy. She was dripping wet. Her cunt was practically drooling. I
got behind her and placed the head of my dick at her slit. I pushed forward,
just slightly. She groaned as my cockhead stretched her little cuntmouth. She
mumbled something into the thick bedspread. 

    -~What was that, bitch?" I demanded.  I grabbed her braid again and pulled
her head up. Her face was streaked with tears but her eyes were glazed with
lust. 

     -~Fuck me," she whimpered.  -~Use me...split my cunt open...please..."

     "You want to get fucked, little slut?" I whispered. 

       -~Oh god, yes...please..." 

       "Then what's my name?" I asked again. 

        "Oh, no... she wailed. "Don't make me say it...please ...take my tight
pussy...please..." 

       "You want this dick," I said, "Tell me what I want to hear." I stole a
glance over at Anya. She was smiling, obviously enjoying the game.  

        "Please...fuck me...Master...." 

         "Again!" 
    
           -~Fuck me Master, fuck me...take me, Master, please...." 

           Anya slid to the floor beside the bed so she could look Logan in the
eyes. "I'm going to whip you bloody for that," she hissed, but her eyes were
delighted. 

          "Please...please..." I couldn't tell if she was begging for mercy or
still begging for my cock, and by then I didn't care. I shoved forward, as hard
as I could.

       "AAAAAUUUUUNH!" Logan cried as I penetrated her, deep. "YES! YES! FUCK
ME! HURT ME! MASTER!" I kept my grip on her hair and used my other hand to grab
her hip as I rode her hard. Logan seemed to be in a state of constant orgasm,
groaning and wailing. Her pussy was contracting and pulsing like a fist
gripping all twelve inches of me. Anya was watching only inches away, never
losing that smile. "You like that?" I grunted as I pounded Logan hard. "You
like watching me fuck that tight little pussy?" 

   "Mmmm...yes..." Anya purred. "And I'm enjoying thinking of all the ways to
punish her for being such a slut." She reached over and took Logan's chin in
her hand. She turned Logan's face towards her and kissed her deeply.  Logan
kissed back, and the sight of the two women tangling tongues set me off. I
groaned out loud as I started coming. Logan arched her back and slammed herself
back on my cock, over and over. Her cunt muscles felt like she was trying to
milk the juice out of my cock. Finally, as I quit coming, I slowed down. I was
breathing hard like a distance runner and both our bodies were soaked with
sweat. I pulled slowly out of Logan. She moaned as my cock slid out of her
cunt. When I caught my breath again,  I turned to Anya.. "So, "I said. "Do I
get the job?"  

   "Hmm?" she said, her eyes still on Logan. Logan was till on er knees, her
head down, eyes closed. Anya  turned back to me. "Yes. Yes, of course. See Kim
outside. She will make all the arrangements. " She stood up and grabbed Logan
by the back of the neck. The younger girl squeaked at the sudden harsh contact.
"Now," Anya said, pulling Logan upright,  "If you will excuse us, Logan has an
appointment with the whipping post." 

  "Mistress," Logan gasped. "Please, please no..." Anya marched her towards the
door, whispering in her ear. I don't know what she said, but Logan sobbed and
her knees nearly buckled. Only Anya's grip on the back of her neck held her
upright.  I watched them go. Suddenly I remembered that I was standing there
naked.  -~Shit," I said. I was going to have to go back down that hallway by
myself, buck naked. I sighed and walked out the door.  Anya was leading the
sobbing Logan into another one of the doors along the hall. With as much
dignity as I could I walked back down the hall to the office. There wasn't
anybody in there, but as I was picking up my clothes, the door opened and the
Asian girl I had seen outside earlier came in. She took one look at me standing
there and grinned. She leaned against the door and cocked an eyebrow at me.
"Guess you got the job," she said. 

    "Guess I did," I answered, holding my pants in front of me. She chuckled at
that. "Oh, come on," she teased. "Let me see what you've got. It's not like we
have any secrets here."

    I thought Logan had drained me, but the look she was giving me was making
my cock stir again. I stood up and dropped my pants. The girl's eyes widened
and she whistled. "My, my," she said in a throaty voice, "you are going to be
one popular boy." She walked across the room slowly, putting a little extra
wiggle in her walk. My cock got stiffer. She grinned again at that and looked
at me from under her long lashes. "Can I get a closer look?" she said as she
slid to her knees. That made me fully hard again. "Mmmmmmmmm," she breathed.
 -~Can I touch it?" 

    "Sure," I said. My voice came out as a dry croak. She reached out and tried
to wrap her tiny hand around my dick, but it wouldn't go all the way around it.
"Mmmmm..." she said again. Then she looked up at me. "I'm Kim, by the way. "
she said before sliding my cock into her mouth. 

    "I think I'm going to like working here," I said. 

   

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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