EXTRACT FOR
Danielle In Chains
(Argus)

     "Danny!"

      Danielle turned and gasped, then reached out to catch her younger sister as the five year old threw herself off the nearby landing. She swung the girl around and around, then set her down on a stair, ruffling her brown hair.

      "Are you gonna miss me, Danny?" Tara asked.

      "Of course I'm going to miss you, sweetie," Danny said with a smile. "More than anyone else." She reached out and tweaked the girl's nose.

      "Why d'you have to go away anyway?" the girl demanded, pouting.

      "I'm eighteen now. Daddy said I could take a holiday in France. It'll be ever so much fun."

      "How come I can't come?"

      "You have to stay and go to school," she said.

      "I hate school!"

      "Danielle, are you ready? Your car is here," her mother said.

      Danny nodded and followed her mother to the front door, Tara trotting along behind.

      "Will you write to me?" Tara asked.

      "Of course I will," Danny said, picking up her long, hip length suede coat at the door and sliding into it.

      "Now if you get into any trouble you know to call," her mother said, smiling tolerantly.

      "I'm sure I won't, mum," Danny said. "I'll be with Marie anyway, and her parents will be nearby.

      She looked out to the Rolls and saw her things already being loaded into the boot. Geoffrey, the family butler, was looking on as the chauffeur placed everything, then closed the boot up.

      "Well, do enjoy yourself, my dear," her mother said, aiming a kiss just to the left of her cheek.

      "I'm quite sure I will, mummy," Danny said.

      She trotted down the stairs and slipped into the back of the Rolls as Jeffrey held the door, then closed it. She looked up and waved at Tara, who waved frantically back. Then the chauffeur got in and the car moved off.

      The drive to the airport was long, but exciting; with her mind fluttering about in contemplation of what awaited her. She had some idea, but knew she was quite innocent in worldly ways. Marie knew far more.

      And Jacques, of course, but she hadn't mentioned him to her mother.

      Jacques, with those brilliant brown eyes, his lovely, soft skin, his muscular chest and long, sensual fingers. And what those fingers had done to her on their first date!

      Had it really only been a few months ago she had met him at a nightclub? Had it taken so little time for her to completely change her mind about what and who she was?

      Not, she thought ruefully, that she'd really known what and who she was anyway.

      Many of her friends had dreams and aspirations, were going on to university to learn this or that. But Danielle had felt no calling, no desire to engage in any of the careers open to her. Computers bored her, as did the idea of sitting at a desk processing dull paperwork. Her family was rich, anyway, so it wasn't as though she needed a job. Still, the thought of going to university to gather the expected education of a young woman in the modern world; art, history, psychology and such, well, that bored her to tears.

      And then she'd met Jacques. He was so much more mature than the boys and men she'd dated, so much more confident, so sure of himself in everything he did. He was beautiful, as well, and she'd been knocked for sixes the first time she'd heard his gorgeous face as he begged her for a dance.

      Danny had been taught to comport herself with the dignity of her station in life, and had, for the most part, done so. Yet all the rules had gone out the window as gorgeous Jacques had held her body against his, and she'd felt the heat of his muscular chest pressed flat against her firm young breasts. Almost instantly her nipples had swelled and begun to tingle, and his eyes were so - so knowing as he had smiled down at her, so sensual.

      She'd felt a little cloddish, a little like a backward provincial around him, and all her defences seemed to fall away as she'd felt his hands stroking and kneading her bottom through her short skirt. She'd never allowed a man or boy to be that familiar with her so quickly, but her mind seemed to swirl, her stomach to churn as his fingers delicately kneaded her buttocks and then crept beneath the skirt to caress her soft flesh directly.

      They were in the middle of the club, with music pounding wildly around them and scores if not hundreds of other bodies twirling and twisting and dancing in wild, rhythm. It had felt animalistic as his lips had come down on hers, and their tongues slithered together, and she could only moan as his tongue caressed hers and slipped between her lips to teasingly slide along the inside of her mouth.

      She'd felt wild, feral, as he'd danced her across the room through the heaving mass of people and then crushed her up against a dark wall, his body against hers, his tongue inside her mouth. She'd shuddered as his hand slipped in between her warm thighs and up beneath her short skirt. 

      "P-please I-I..."

      Her fears of watchers seemed to melt away as his fingers found her sex, as they rubbed up and down over her clit through her thin bikini, as her hips had ground almost frantically back against him. People must be watching, she'd thought. Surely people were watching! Yet embarrassing as the thought was she could do nothing to resist him as her body roared with heat and her head rolled back helplessly under waves of sexual pleasure.

      She was on the edge of climax when he pulled his hand back and jerked her away from the wall. She staggered, gasping, moaning, eyes wild, not knowing or caring where he was taking her. Then the cool evening air washed over her and she realized she was sweating. They were in an alley behind the building, and Jacques roughly pulled her around and bent her over a low dustbin, then jerked her skirt up over her hips.

      Dazedly, she felt his fingers in her panties, and gasped as he tore them free of her and threw them away. A harsh hand pushed down between her shoulder blades as she started to rise, to protest, and then she felt him rubbing along her sex, and her mind melted once more under the fiery heat of her body's sexual need.

      She cried out at the pain of his violent entry, but the pain turned to elation as his cock filled her to the brim, as he jammed himself deeper and ground his hips against her bottom.

      "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" was all she could manage as he pushed down on her back again and kicked her legs further apart.         	Then he began to pump, to thrust, and she felt her swollen sex lips riding across the thick girth of his shaft as he moved in and out of her. Her entire body began to thrum with wildfire sexual heat as she grasped the far edge of the dustbin and clung dazedly to it to keep from falling away.

      Then his hands were at her hair and she cried out again as he wrapped it around his fist and pulled her up, almost upright. She reached dazedly back behind her and then felt his other hand at her skirt, yanking it up higher, pulling it up beneath her armpits, and then over her head in a single rough movement.

      She was nude and the realization shook her like an explosion. She gasped aloud and her body shuddered as he bent her forward again, now naked, her throbbing breasts pushed against the cold, gritty, dirty steel top of the dustbin as he renewed his hard, steady thrusting.

      Her breath came in small, sharp, ragged pants and gasps as his hips pummelled her bottom and his big cock pistoned inside her. Her warm thighs and belly were chilled by the cold steel, her knees bruised as they were knocked against the dustbin again and again by the impact of his hips against her bottom.  Again she was going to come, and her hands flailed about as she tried to find better purchase and thrust herself back.

      But he would have none of it. He pulled her wrists up and back behind her, then lifted them upwards, sliding them up her spine even as she moaned in discomfort - then pain. He forced her wrists up behind her back almost to her neck, then jerked roughly on her hair, wrapping it around her wrists and holding hair and wrists with one hand. For the first time in her sexual life she felt - mastered -conquered - and a hot, dark tide of glorious heat swept over her from out of some dark, masochistic corner of her mind.

      And then he really began to give it to her. Danny was no virgin, but she'd never experienced the kind of hard, rough, wild rodding she felt that evening. His hips hammered against her bottom so painfully hard she knew she'd be bruised for days. But that was almost irrelevant compared to the sensation of his cock spearing deep into her belly with every savage thrust.

      Her arms and shoulders ached, as did her scalp, as he held her head up and back, pulling on her hair. But that didn't deter her heat in any way. Instead, somehow, her helplessness, the violence of his attack, only made her hunger flare higher.

      She moaned dazedly as his cock pounded into her body, and her sex heat became almost feverish as she approached climax. Her soft breasts were grinding back and forth against the dustbin cover, her hips jamming against the edge, her knees knocking the side, her feet jerking and shifting and losing balance against the dirty ground.

      Then it all swelled up around her and collapsed atop her head like a tidal wave. She would have screamed if she'd had breath. Instead she gurgled and gargled loudly, her breath locked in her throat by her shuddering, spasming muscles.

      The orgasm was massive, all encompassing, like none she'd ever felt before in her sheltered life. It literally took her breath away and left her dazed, able to feel only the pleasure and the hammering of his big body against her.

      More than a few eyes turned her way as she strode across the airport concourse. She was used to the attention, and rather enjoyed it. This day, however, she hardly noticed.

      Danielle, Elizabeth, Cutler-Armstrong stood just a hair below six feet tall in her stocking feet. She had a dancer's grace, with long well sculpted legs. Her hair was golden blonde, perfectly coiffed, perfectly straight, but blown dry to a thick, silky mass parted directly above her eyes. It flowed down around her angelic face to dance along her slender shoulders as she moved

      Her soft blue eyes peered out from beneath heavy bangs. There was often a sparkling mischief in them, but today they seemed distracted. Her face was softly rounded with porcelain skin brushed by stray tendrils of wispy hair she had a small, turned up nose, lush, full, sensuous lips and perfect white teeth.

      It was a young face, a face of hope and anticipation of things to come, a face caught between girl and woman.

      She moved with self assurance, giving the customs man an impish grin as she passed through, then strolling down the aisle to the plane, drawing furtive gazes from men and boys of all ages. Her full, firm young breasts sat high on her slender chest, lightly straining the thin green blouse she wore tucked into white cotton trousers.  Those trousers sat low on her hips and were tight across her small, round bottom. It was a warm day, and the trousers were light and thin. Those eyes which lit up at the sight of her approach were almost as pleased with the sight of her going, and lips were licked at the just barely discernable outline of a thong cutting up and out from the top of her buttocks.

      She rode in silence, neither reading nor eating, thinking instead. She veered between fear and a crackling excitement, between wanting the journey to end and anxiously trying to decide whether she should turn and go back.

      Danny had a reputation as a nice girl, sweet, caring, and if not entirely virginal certainly inexperienced. Yet reality was something else again, for while she had been quite circumspect about her sex life, she had involved herself in more lewd, carnal and kinky sexual antics than anyone who knew her could have ever imagined.