by Lucy Wild
“I’ve never been…fucked,” I said quietly, hardly able to believe I’d actually said the word.
“Would you like me to fuck you?”
“Yes please my lord.”
“Beg me then,” he said, easing a finger to my entrance and nudging it just into me. He lay down on my back, pressing his lips to me ear. “Beg me to fuck you.”
“Please fuck me my lord. Please fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”
“Good girl,” he whispered as I heard the rustle of clothing. A moment later he brought my hips upwards, moving me onto my knees, my bottom jutting obscenely back towards him. “Beg me again.”
“Please fuck me,” I moaned, his fingers circling my clit again. “Please fuck me my lord.”
His fingers stopped touching me and I felt an aching sense of loss. Something bigger brushed over my clit a moment later, something firmer and hotter than his finger. I realised what it was as he moved it down to the entrance to me, coating himself in my wetness as I rocked my hips backwards, trying to draw him into me. “Fuck me,” I moaned, pushing back towards him. “Please fuck me.”
He took hold of my hips and eased the tip of his hardness just into me, stretching the entrance of my pussy and making me wince. He froze in place, waiting for me to widen enough to accommodate him. I began to rock slowly back onto him, feeling his member moving gradually deeper into me. “You feel so wet,” he gasped, suddenly thrusting all the way into me until he was buried in my pussy. “You are not as innocent as I thought.” His cock felt hot and hard, yet fleshy and spongy at the same time, so different to any sensation I’d ever felt before. He just seemed to fit inside me perfectly.
He held my hips in place, remaining deep inside me and not moving. “How does that feel?” he asked.
“It feels wonderful,” I replied. “Please fuck me with your cock my lord. I want to feel you fucking me. I want your cum inside me. Please fuck me.”
“You really are a whore aren’t you?” he replied. “I thought you were such an innocent girl too.”
“I was,” I growled, pulling my hips away from him and shoving them backwards, gasping at the feel of his shaft gliding to the entrance to me and then shoving forward all the way inside. “Until I met you.”
He began to thrust faster than I had thought possible. My pussy felt overwhelmed with pleasure, I could hardly breathe as a tension built up inside me, my muscles turning rigid deep within me as I clenched the blankets under my bound hands. “Oh my,” I growled. “What is happening to me?”
“You will soon see,” he replied in a panting breath, his hand moving down under to me to stroke my nub once more. As he rammed home into me, the tension built up to an impossible degree until my eyes closed tightly and I could feel nothing at all and then it happened. A tidal wave of sheer bliss washed over me, starting at my clit and spreading through my body, my pussy muscles contracting around his cock as he fell still for a moment. Every muscle that had been held tightly within me seemed to relax in an instant and I giggled with joy, unable to stop a wide smile forming on my lips as the sensations slowly faded away.
“Oh my goodness,” I gasped. “What was that?”
“The first of many orgasms,” he replied, pulling his cock from me and leaving my pussy aching for his return. “Onto your front.” He shoved me down until I was laid flat under him. His body crushed mine as he thrust between my buttocks, using my wetness to lubricate his way as if my bottom was another pussy for him to play with. The tip of him reached my lower back before gliding down once more and this time he took hold of it and eased it to the hole which was hidden there, the place I never imagined could be involved in an encounter such as this.
I felt a wave of shame replacing the joy I had felt moments before. “This is not right,” I gasped as he nudged at the tiny hole which I felt certain would never widen to allow him inside. “It is not proper.”
“Are you so sure?” he replied as he thrust forwards and the hard head of him stretched my bottom enough to fit inside.
“Oh my,” was all I could say as it stayed by the entrance to my posterior, rocking back and forth slowly, easing his way a little deeper with each motion. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I felt humiliated but not because of what he was doing to me, instead it was shame that something so sinful could feel so divine. I held my breath as he moved deeper into me until he was laid on top of me, the full length of him buried in my bottom, his body crushing mine under him.
He ground into me, the walls of my insides stretching and tingling with a mixture of pleasure and pain as he fucked my behind. His hand again moved to my clit, sliding between the bed and my hip until he found my nub, stroking and teasing it whilst fucking me a little faster. I felt the tension inside me building up once more, this time more intense than before. I screamed when the wall of pressure broke, orgasmic bliss tearing through me, making my pussy contract around emptiness and the muscles deep in my bottom spasming around his tool.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, “I’m going to come.”
“Do it in my bottom,” I said in a low moan. “I want to feel it in there.”
“Beg me,” he growled, starting to thrust faster. “Beg me to come in your arse.”
“Come in my…arse,” I said, blushing ever deeper. “I want you to fill my arse with your cum.”
“Oh fuck,” he muttered as I felt his cock spasm deep inside me. He ground down into me with a single final thrust and then he came. I felt his cock spasming and moving inside my bottom, a hot wetness filling my hole as he came whilst buried in me, his seed pouring into my bottom, no, pouring into my arse as he called it. He’d fucked my arse and came inside it and it felt fucking incredible.
With a sigh he collapsed on me, rocking back and forth until his orgasm subsided. Only then did he slowly withdraw, my hole snapping back into place as his shaft left me, an aching throb spreading through my bottom as he rolled over to lie next to me. “I think I can untie your hands now,” he whispered, fiddling with the bonds until my wrists came loose.
I threw my arms round him, feeling his leg slide over mine, his softening cock against my thigh as he took me in his arms, holding me against him. He kissed me for the first time then, my lips against his as I stared into those smouldering dark eyes of his. “My lord,” I whispered between embraces. “Thank you for coming in my arse.”
He smiled and lay back on the pillows, leaving me half draped over him. “You’re welcome,” he muttered quietly. “Remember, no underwear ever again.”
“Of course my lord,” I replied, kissing his cheek before pressing my face to his chest, listening as his heartbeat slowed. As my eyes closed I thought about where I was a day before, at home with my parents without a care in the world. So much could change in a day, I mused, drifting off to sleep whilst wondering just what tomorrow might bring.
Dress Me
Chapter 1
“Father, I want a new horse!”
Lauren looked at herself in the dressing table mirror. Too angry an expression, she thought, too strident. He’d only grumble. She had to play this just right. She tried again, this time with her eyes wider and her lip downturned as if full of sorrow and regret.
“Father, I want a new horse.” Perfect. Time to try it out for real.
Since she was old enough to talk, Laura had been used to getting her own way, used to wrapping her father round her little finger. One of her earliest memories was seeing the crushing disappointment in his eyes when she’d unwrapped her Christmas presents and screamed solidly until she was hoarse. “Where’s my pony?” she’d yelled over and over again.
“Your mother thinks you’re a little young. Four year olds should not ride ponies.”
“I want a pony!” She’d stamped her feet and sobbed her heart out, tugging at her hair until it came out in clumps. He’d given in of course, overruling her mother and providing his daughter with a beautiful chestnut steed. She’d learned a lot from that experience. One if you shouted and screamed long and
loud enough, you could get whatever you wanted, and two, her father would do anything to please her.
Throughout her childhood, Laura had regularly used that information to her advantage, ensuring that whatever she wanted was provided and God help anyone who tried to change things.
Everything had changed though when she turned sixteen and her mother died, spending the last of her days in her sickbed listening to Laura whine and demand attention throughout. “She’s only sick, I need a partner for tennis. Come and play with me papa.”
After the death, any reigns holding back her father vanished and he spent the next two years lavishing ever more expensive gifts on her, as if to make up for being a widower, all the while reminding her that her inheritance would come to her once she married or reached twenty one.
“I have no intention of ever marrying,” she’d said, sliding down the bannister to the ground floor, barely missing the butler as he descended in a more adult manner. “Why can’t you just give me the money now?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” her father called from the landing, leaning over the bannister towards her.
It was the only time screaming and tantruming hadn’t worked. The money was locked away and nothing could be done. Only the icy cold banks of England could refuse Laura and live to tell the tale.
In the end it was her father who remarried before she found a groom, overcoming the death of his wife on the eve of Laura’s eighteenth birthday. They’d held a ball in the largest room of the house, inviting the cream of local society to join them. He’d spent the evening talking to some stupid woman instead of tending to Laura and she was not happy about it.
Shortly afterwards he told her he was to remarry, wincing as he said it, as if expecting her to explode.
“This is Maria Sanderson,” he said, bringing his fiancé into the drawing room beside him. “I’m sure you’ll get along just famously.”
“I hate her!” Laura replied, sticking out her bottom lip and storming between the two of them, running upstairs to her room. “I hate him!” she screamed into her mirror. “I hate them both.”
Despite her best efforts the wedding took place. She refused to attend, remaining at home and sobbing into her pillow. A week passed before she deigned to speak to them, realising that she couldn’t keep up her protest and ensure she got the new horse she wanted.
She looked into her mirror once more, sad face, sad face, sad face. Let’s go.
She opened her bedroom door and walked downstairs, listening for sounds of their presence. She could hear them in the dining room laughing and joking as if they didn’t care at all how angry she was with them both.
“Father, I want a new horse,” she said as she walked in.
Maria turned to her. “We’ve been meaning to speak to you Laura.”
Laura stuck her tongue out at the intruder before turning back to her father. “I need a new horse,” she said. “Will you bring me one?”
“What’s wrong with Galileo?” he asked, setting down his knife and fork.
“I want a new one!” she said, stamping her foot. “You’re my father, you’re supposed to make me happy.”
Maria stood up. “Sit down a moment would you Laura?”
“I don’t take orders from sluts!”
“Laura!” her father snapped.
“Damn you both!” she yelled back, turning on her heels and storming from the dining room. She stopped just outside, expecting her father to run after her and apologise but he didn’t.
Frowning, she turned back as the pair began to talk quietly. Leaning against the wall, she remained out of sight whilst still able to hear every word they said.
“Now will you listen to me?” Maria asked. “This cannot be allowed to continue.”
“But she’s still a child.”
“She is eighteen years old. That is old enough to stop these childish temper tantrums and hissy fits.”
“I don’t know my love. I’ve never sent her away before. She would be frightened I am sure of it.”
“It will do her good. The gentleman I suggest is an expert in the education of whiny little brats such as her. In no time at all she will be an asset to this family, not a drain upon it.”
What does she know about family? Laura thought. She’s certainly not a part of this one.
“I suppose you may be right,” her father sighed. “But the cost?”
“Is nothing compared to the amount you have lavished on her up until now. Shall I telegram him or do you want to put up with her stamping her feet and screaming for the next forty or fifty years?”
There was a scraping back of chairs and Laura tiptoed away, her brow furrowed. What were they talking about? Was Maria trying to get her sent away? The one thing she felt certain of was the security of knowing her father would never allow it.
Chapter 2
Laura’s father stood in her bedroom doorway. “You’re being sent away,” he said, taking a step backwards as a perfume bottle flew past his head. “Please calm down dear.”
“Sent away!” she screamed. “Like a dog that bites its master? Like a leper? Are you ashamed of me father, is that it?”
“No my angel,” he said, trying a smile. “It’s just Maria feels…that is, we both feel that you might benefit from a finishing school education of some sort.”
“So you are ashamed of me. This is all because you had to marry that little whore of yours isn’t it?”
“Please do not call my wife a whore.”
“Whore, whore, whore.”
He turned away. “The decision is made. He will be here to collect you tomorrow morning.”
Another perfume bottle flew after him, sending pungent scent into the air as it smashed into a portrait of the 3rd Viscount of Cricklewood, her father’s great, great grandfather.
Laura spent the rest of the day thinking of a way to get revenge. Walking out in the grounds she spotted one of the gardeners and an idea formed in her mind. “If he married a whore, maybe he wants a whore for a daughter, she thought, striding over to the gardener.
“Afternoon miss,” the man said, standing up and inclining his cap.
“It’s Harry isn’t it?” she asked, stepping closer towards him.
“That’s right miss.”
“Well Harry, I wondered if you might take a walk with me. There’s a flower I found in the wood which I wish you to identify.”
“Very good miss.”
They made their way across the lawn and onto the mossy path which led towards the copse of birch trees. Turning left at a fork, Laura led the way towards a clearing. “Where’s the flower miss?” Harry asked, glancing around him as she stopped.
“Oh you’ll see it in a minute,” she replied, stretching up and planting a kiss on his lips.
“What are you doing?” he asked, pushing her away from him. “You’ll get me in trouble with his lordship.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” she replied, grabbing hold of his arms and kissing him again. This time she pushed her tongue into his mouth, surprised by how good it felt.
She’d never kissed anyone before but she’d read all about it in countless books, practising in front of her mirror for years so she’d be ready when the time came.
She thought of her father and Maria’s face when they found out she’d kissed a gardener. The disgust in their eyes.
Her thoughts were brought back to what was happening as Harry slid his arms around her, holding her body against his.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “Unhand me at once.”
“Not yet,” he replied, pressing his lips to hers. As his tongue plunged deep into her mouth, she felt him stiffen against her, digging into her stomach through his trousers.
She hadn’t planned to go any further but feeling that heat against her made her woozy, desire taking over her thoughts. She moved her hands between their bodies and squeezed his shaft through his trousers, enjoying the spongy firmness of it as he sighed into her mouth.
“What’s it look like?” she asked. “Can I see?”
Sinking to her knees, she stared at his crotch as he unbuttoned his flies and reached inside, pulling out his erect cock. “There you go,” he said. “What do you think?”
“Can I taste it?”
“Aye, that you can miss.”
She took hold of his shaft in both hands, stroking up and down the length of him as she brought her lips to the bulbous head. I’d never be able to fit something like that inside me, she thought, picturing her pussy refusing to let it inside. It’s too big. How can anyone possibly have sex?
She took him into her mouth, running her tongue over the length of him, circling the head, tracing lines of the ridges of his veins, drawing him as deep into the back of her throat as she could manage.
“You’re a natural cock sucker,” Harry said and Laura felt a burst of pride. I’m a natural, she thought. Wait until I tell Father and Maria how good I am at sucking cock.
He gripped her head in place and began to thrust faster into her mouth, letting out a groan. “I’m going to come in your mouth,” he said. “You want to taste it don’t you?”
She nodded as best she could, feeling his shaft twitch suddenly, hitting the roof of her mouth before landing on her tongue. There was another spasm and then a spurt of wet warmth gushed from the end of it, hitting the back of her throat.
She couldn’t swallow with him still between her lips, all she could do was wait as he shot out a second load of cum before slowly moving to the edge of her mouth. She licked the last drops from him, running her tongue over him before swallowing quickly.
Standing up, she grinned at him. “Did I do it right?”
“Aye lass, that you did.”
“Wonderful!” she said, clapping her hands and jumping for joy. “I’m a good cock sucker aren’t I?”
Harry smiled and ruffled her hair. “You’re a natural miss but where’s this flower you wanted me to see?”
“Oh, right here,” she said, lifting her dress and pulling her knickers aside. She let him stare for a moment at her soaking wet pussy whilst she let out a giggle. A second later she dropped her dress back into place and skipped her way out of the woods back towards the house, the taste of his cum still in the back of her throat.
