The Rougher Explicit Collection of Stories Box Set Compilation

by Amira Bradford

  She was a princess for goodness sake! She should not be left out from anything. Alexandria stamped her foot in front of the mirror, pouting for real this time. Almost as if the reverberation had set something off within the castle, she heard banging as the sound of doors below crashed open. Was he back? If he was, judging from the sound of the voices drifting up to her bedchamber, he sounded angry. Again she thought to herself how little she knew of her husband. Naturally it had all been arranged by her parents and though she had met her husband, the meetings had all been vigorously chaperoned making it nigh on impossible to communicate about anything other than the weather and the petty intrigues of court. He was a tall man, well-built, with flaming red hair; a steely countenance that gave the impression that he would brook no disobedience, worn as a knight would wear a helmet into battle, was across his face at all times. And so in her eyes he was an enigma, a man that at once sparked her curiosity as it did her fear of the unknown. Would he be gentle with her?

  Imagining that he might very well come up to see her... to legitimatize the marriage, to claim her, Alexandria quickly sat down behind her vanity table and started to put make-up on. She wanted to look her best for him, but before she was half-way through, her door burst open and in he came. He took her in with one glance, saw what she was doing and frowned.

  "Princess, do you know what time it is? You should be in bed sleeping, not preening yourself before a mirror. I need you to be alert when you conduct your housekeeping duties, not bleary-eyed and incessantly yawning."

  "I.. I'm sorry. I thought...You might have wanted to... I was going to bed eventually! Though at first, taken aback by his criticism and his aggressive body language, she was unable to coherently frame a reply, but being unaccustomed to being spoken in such a tone, she defiantly spoke up and was now glowering from across the room at him.

  Calmly he put his riding hat on the stand by the door, and causally shoved off his jerkin onto the floor. Walking to her side, he stood towering above her and was not surprised when he saw some trepidation enter her eyes.

  "I will not be spoken to like that in my own home, nor by my own wife. You will find that I can be a harsh but fair taskmaster, but that by talking back to me or in fact expressively disobeying my commands in any way, you forsake yourself of the protection that I as your husband offer you. Do you understand?"

  "I am not your slave! I am a princess and I demand to be treated as one! You have no rig--...."

  She was stopped in the middle of her sentence by him as he picked her up with ease and carried her to the edge of the bed where he laid her, kicking and wriggling, firmly across his lap.

  "I will treat you exactly as a princess should be treated. For even a princess sometimes needs to be reminded that she is still naught but a girl. And what happens to girls that are naughty? He asked with a slight smile as his hand strayed across her bottom.

  "How dare you. When my..."

  Stopping her protests with the palm of his hand, he began to soundly spank the princess, who writhing and squirming as best she could, was unable to escape her husband's chastisement of her behind. Alexandria could not believe what was happening. Needless to say she was mortified that her most private areas were being exposed and treated so roughly. She hadn't been spanked since she was a little girl. Her nanny had spanked her when she misbehaved and being quite an adventurous, wild-hearted spirit, she had gone over her knee more than once. But that had been ten years ago if not more. She was a fully-grown woman of nineteen years now and to be taken in such a way, even by her own husband, left her feeling vulnerable and... something else she couldn't quite put her finger on, excited? Meanwhile as Alexandria was trying to make sense of the feelings she was experiencing, her assailant's hand was tugging the hemline of her undergarments. Before she knew what was going on, he had tugged them down to her knees and was caressing her bare bottom which had already begun to turn a light shade of red.

  "Well what do we have here?" He murmured as he hand gently squeezed and stroked her upturned cheeks. "I am happy that we've become acquainted on this footing, it'll make things much easier in the future now that you have an inkling of how I expect you to be around me: subservient, malleable and above all accountable for deeds that mustn't go unpunished."

  Deaf to the sound of her cries and entries to desist he started afresh on her bottom, allowing his wide palm to resound loudly alongside her yelps. Soon she was crying like a little girl, making soothing noises he gathered her in his arms and held her; rocking back and forth while gingerly patting her back, he started kissing the nape of her neck.

  Unsure whether she was angry at him or not Alexandria, purring under her breath, brushed the hair that had fallen over her face and met his kisses with her own. Their mouths met and, with the impertinent dominance she was beginning to associate with him, he explored with his tongue her mouth with such persistence she began to whimper. Suddenly he stood up; tumbling onto the floor, she looked up reproachfully at him.

  "Hey, careful!"

  He looked sternly at her and she piped down. Her bottom was still sore and she had no intention of being spanked again. When she followed the gaze of his eyes she saw with alarm that he was eying the riding crop that he had brought into the room with him.

  "Please, no. Not that. I'll be a good girl." She looked to the floor in what she hoped was a submissive fashion and softly said, "I've learnt my lesson."

  "Perhaps you have... very well then." He cupped her cheek in his hand. "Then it is time for you to fulfil your role as my wife." As he spoke his hand fumbled with his belt and he slid his trousers down. His cock was already hard. "There you go, Princess." Alexandria's eyes were wide as saucers as she stared at his huge member.

  "You want me to.... put it into my mouth? Suck it? She gulped. But dutifully, afraid of the consequences of disobeying, leaned forward on her knees and stuck out her tongue to taste it.

  "That's it darling."

  Opening her mouth she slowly enveloped the cock, and with his hand at the back of her head, moved back and forth over it, caressing it with her tongue as she did. Letting it leave her mouth, she started licking his balls and by the groans he was making she knew she was doing something right. She went down his shaft once again and he violently seized her scalp, forcing her to deep-throat. She started to choke so he let her get some air. Panting, with saliva and pre-cum on her lips, she looked up at her lord and master for confirmation that she was pleasing him.

  In response, he bent down and lifting her in his arms deposited her on the silk sheets of the bed. With care he lifted the nightie over her head, until she was lying naked in front of him. Shy, she tried to cover herself up. But he caught hold of her hands and held them akimbo, so he could feast his eyes on her splendid body. He then flipped her over and his eyes were rewarded with, no longer her blushes, but with her well-spanked ass. Getting his knees between her legs he managed to hold them apart and was presented with her virgin pussy. With one hand resting on the small of her back, his other explored gently the avenue from whence he was going to consecrate his marriage. She bucked underneath him as his fingers probed and delved inside her. Moaning, her face in the pillow, she thrust against his hand, realizing, as she did so, the spectacle she must be giving; no better than a common harlot she thought, but she didn't care.

  "Now princess, I want you to relax. This'll hurt a bit. Can you do that for me?

  Fear came flooding back as she realized what he was intending to do. She looked over her shoulder. He was positioning himself above her; she could feel the head of his cock brushing her opening. She braced herself. He thrust. A mixture of pain and pleasure assaulted her as he slowly but surely drove his cock all the way inside her, until he bottomed out and rested himself fully inside her. For a brief moment he allowed her to get used to the sensation, before he withdrew and slowly started pumping away. Clawing at the bed-sheets, she tried to clamber away. But he wasn't going to let her free. He was breaking her in and she had to be a good girl an
d endure it. The steady gyration of his hips, pistons flaring, creating an unalterable momentum that she was powerless to stop.

  Without exactly knowing when, Alexandria realized she was rising in time with his thrusts; meeting him and clenching around his cock. Furthermore she was now moaning in pleasure, in ecstasy if anything. Noticing this, her master rose on his haunches so he could look at the pretty young girl that he was making his. Smiling in satisfaction at how she was loving it, he lightly spanked her red bottom some more, before lowering himself back down again. Kissing her hair, her neck, her fingertips, he continued to fuck her.

  "Oh, God, harder!" She moaned as he intensified the rhythm. Just when she thought she could take it no longer, he moaned.

  "I'm coming." He closed his eyes and released inside her. He rolled off her and she instantly curled around his naked supine body. As he stroked her hair she looked adoringly up at his face, on it was a faint smile, a piece of the puzzle, of the enigma, solved. She now knew what sort of man he was.

  To Ally

  The End.

  Fly Girl

  The weather warmed with the oncoming spring. Steve worked as an instructor at a small flight school. He used to be a good instructor, but took a hiatus and only recently returned to the profession. He could make the technical sound simple, was patient and rarely got ruffled. Now he had a steady schedule of students, enjoyed himself, and found the process as fulfilling as ever. The pay was lousy, but the rewards made up for it.

  He lived on the airport, making due in a small block building. Simple and convenient, it suited his new, streamlined lifestyle as he tried "to find himself." It could get a little lonely, but relationships seemed troublesome for him. Oh, well, he thought, it's okay for now. He sighed. Besides, it's not like some great girl is just gonna drop from heaven.

  Steve paused at the door of the terminal building and searched the empty northern sky.

  "Any word, yet?" he asked as he entered to lobby.

  "Not yet—but she ought to be calling in any minute," Tom answered from behind the counter.

  "Coffee fresh?"

  "'Bout two hours old."

  "Close enough." Steve shuffled down the hall toward the pot. As he poured, the radio came to life.

  "Augusta Unicom, Cessna eight-four-two-alpha-alpha, airport advisory, please."

  "Hey, Steve—"

  "Yeah, I heard."

  Tom picked up the radio microphone. "Two-alpha-alpha, this is Augusta Unicom. Wind is zero-two-zero at seven, favoring runway three. No reported traffic." Tom released the mike button.

  Steve whined, "C'mon, man, don't keep a poor flight instructor in suspense!"

  Tom ginned. "Don't ya trust her?"

  "Don't make me hurt you." Steve smiled and sipped his coffee.

  "Well?" the counter man asked into the mike.

  "Augusta traffic, Private Pilot Stephanie five north, inbound for landing." Her smile carried over the radio waves.

  "Hot damn," Steve cheered. Stephanie was his first student as a born-again flight instructor. Her process, just as with anyone who learned to fly, had been hard work, joys and setbacks. But she had persevered. He felt so proud of her.

  Steve and Tom were outside as the Cessna touched down in a textbook landing.

  "That looked nice," Tom observed.

  Steve grunted agreement.

  The airplane breezed across the ramp and stopped at its parking spot. The propeller clacked to a halt, the door popped open and a pretty, freshly minted pilot stepped onto the ground. The two men clapped loudly. They could see her blushing and grinning from a hundred feet away.

  "Thanks," she called, throwing them a self-conscious wave. With a flip of her curly brown ponytail, she turned and began tying down the airplane.

  "Find me when you're done," Steve called to her.

  "Okay," she nodded before she resumed her task. He told her often enough to take care of her airplane. It satisfied him to see her doing just that.

  A few minutes later, Stephanie met Steve in the break room. He was rinsing out his coffee cup.

  "Hey, congratulations!"

  "Thanks, Teach." She flashed a perfect smile; her face altered from long to beautiful. Her eyes always seemed happy, but now they glowed a just bit brighter. She reached behind her and loosened her hair. He glanced at her breasts. She shook her head and brunette curls cascaded like a waterfall across her shoulders.

  He refocused himself with an effort and resumed his role as her teacher and mentor. "Well, lemme see it!"

  She fished in her back pocket, pulled out her temporary airman's certificate, and waved it at him. "God, I'm sooo excited. It was great!" Then she prattled on about the details of her checkride in a singsong monologue. Steve listened and grinned.

  "Hey, guys," Tom yelled down the hallway. "I'm goin' home. Can you lock up?"

  "No problem," Steve assured him. "G'night."

  "See ya manana. Congrats, Steph!"

  "Thanks, Tom."

  They heard the door latch and the lock rasp home. Stephanie appeared to have lost her train of thought. Steve noticed a fleeting expression in her blue-gray eyes.

  "Okay, so in celebration I buy my students dinner when they get their licenses. You interested?"

  "Sure," she answered without hesitation. "You choose the place, and I'll drive."

  "No, you choose. It's part of the tradition. And we should probably drive ourselves 'cause I have to come back here."

  "That's right—you live out back, huh?" she asked.

  Steve nodded.

  "Okay. Well, I like the Seaside Inn—"

  "Is that your favorite place?"

  "No, my favorite's Marcello's."

  Steve smiled but felt his wallet flinch. Marcello's offered the best Mediterranean cuisine in town—and was the most expensive restaurant as well.

  "Marcello's it is."

  "Oh, no, Steven." He adored the way her mouth moved when she pronounced his name. Steve fought a powerful urge to taste her pursed lips. "It's sooo expensive."

  "No," he replied, holding up a hand. "It's part of the tradition."

  She beamed at him. "Okay!"

  "Good. Let me lock up and I'll meet you in the parking lot. I'll follow you, okay?"

  "'Kay."

  Steve let her out, locked the terminal door and climbed into his rust-sprinkled Honda. He pulled through the airport gate to the parking lot where Stephanie waited. Her car slid out front and drove away in a cloud of exhaust. Steve followed.

  He enjoyed flying with her. She was a good pilot, and used wise judgment combined with a light, sure touch on the controls. Apparently, all that got left behind once she exited the airport grounds because the ride was more than a little wild. After two near misses and running a red light in vain attempts to keep up, Steve backed off and went to the restaurant himself. When he parked she met him with amused expression.

  "You drive like a grandma," she teased.

  "Yeah, I can see the headlines now. 'Flight Instructor Killed in Car Crash.' No thanks. If you flew like that, young lady—"

  "Oooo, getting kinda 'daddy' with me, aren't ya, Steven?"

  "No—"

  She flashed a mock pout and held a finger to her lower lip. "Don't spank me for being a bad girl—daddy!"

  "Jeez, stop it, okay?" Steve found his budding thoughts of role-play arousing. And a little bit frightening.

  "You sure—daddy?"

  He laughed. "Please, quit?"

  "Okay." Again she beamed. Steve felt his chest warm. It triggered a vague memory.

  He had spent quite a bit of time with this woman over the past several months. But the flirting and the increased familiarity were quite new. He always took great pains to avoid becoming overly familiar. Besides, his recent divorce left him uncertain.

  But now she—they—felt very different. The relationship had taken a sudden lurching turn that threatened to upset his balance. Now that she had completed her training and had her license, they were no longer instr
uctor and student. Did that mean they could explore other options? His mind still wrestled with itself when she waved a hand and told him, "Let's go—I'm famished."

  She spun and strode toward the entrance. Once more, Steve played catch-up, but this time he watched the sway of her hips and bottom. It stirred him, and he pictured her gorgeous ass naked in his hands while they ground themselves together.

  He decided right then. He desperately wanted to know Stephanie on a more intimate basis. He hoped it might become very, very intimate indeed.

  * * * * * * *

  After they ordered appetizers, the conversation roamed. They got to know a little more about each other. They chatted and laughed and relaxed.

  At one point his face picked up the light just so, and his head turned just right. He looked so much like her first big crush back in high school. She obsessed about "her guy" and practically threw herself at him, but he had ignored her advances. Stephanie sometimes sat in class with her legs crossed and manipulated herself. Once she even came as she gazed at Mr. Jenkins. She got an A in his math class, but she had yearned for so much more.

  Her legs crossed under the dinner table and the top one swung back and forth. The corners of her lips curled at the sensations.

  Across from her and with the last vestiges of his reserve gone, Steven's mind strayed to carnal thoughts. He wondered if he was ready to be with someone again. The fear that this was the one chance butted headlong with the fear that he might get the girl only to lose her. The last couple of months had underscored his loneliness, but the possibility of loss interfered. Shit, he chastised himself, we haven't even gotten anywhere. Yet? His mind pictured her completely nude and his gaze strayed to her chest—

  "Sorry, what?" he asked, startled.

  "Hmmm. I'd like to know what you were just thinking."

  "Careful what you wish for," he quipped. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

  "I asked how long you've had this dinner tradition?"

  "Oh, that. Well, actually—um—you're the first."

  She laughed.