by Emily Tilton
“Are you ready for fucking, Mrs. Burton?” he murmured into her ear. “Is your sweet cunt ready for a hard cock?”
Lily gasped. She could never have imagined either that Eric would use those words or that they would have upon her the effect that they did. His fingers, working from the side of the panties’ tiny front panel, touched her bare private lips, the delicate little hood of her clit, moved up, moved down. She let out a moan that felt like it came from the bottom of her feet. He had whipped her for saying fuck, and now he had said it, and he had said a worse word, too: the worst word of all.
The wave of shameful pleasure that broke over her then made her knees so weak that she literally fell into Eric’s arms. He turned her around in his embrace, and now it was his left hand on her whipped bottom and his right hand between her legs, and he was rubbing so urgently and even arrogantly that Lily felt she might faint. She cried out over and over, wishing desperately that he would at least lower her panties so that he could touch all of her at once down there.
But he seemed to like the wrapping in which he had dressed her too much for that, and with a lip-biting, brow-furrowing flash of insight from a place buried deep in Lily’s mind, she saw why: a virgin bride in white garments needed whipping, and she needed fucking. It was as simple as that. She could tell that Eric liked her naked, too, but when she saw herself in the lacy lingerie through his eyes, her virginity beautifully presented, the submissive arousal she could no longer deny—much as she still wished it gone from her—nearly overwhelmed her.
He spoke gently, then, although the nature of his words seemed so rough and shameful. “You’re going to kneel, now, honey, and suck my cock. Don’t worry about doing it right, tonight. I just need to be inside you there right now. I need to see you with my penis in your mouth.”
Need. Did a man—a man like Eric Burton, anyway—need things? The thought struck her as very odd, and though she didn’t have the slightest notion of failing to obey him, she hesitated just trying to puzzle out why it should be odd. Of course he needed things: air, food, water. But… but how could he need sex things? How could he need anything where Lily was concerned? She could tell from the hardness of the cock that pressed now so lewdly against her belly, the cock she hardly dared look at much as she longed to see it and touch it and even examine it very closely, that Eric wanted her. And Lily needed his dominance, she understood now much as she had wanted to deny it and much as she still wished she didn’t. But now Eric seemed to have just said that he needed to master her the same way she needed his mastery, and a glow arose in her heart that had only a very little to do with the glow he had made between her legs.
“Lily? Did you hear me?” he said, his voice now with an edge of authority that made Lily shiver. He put his hands on her shoulders and started to urge her downward.
That feeling made her moan again, and she let him force her to the floor, her knees on the short-pile carpet. Her face confronted by his cock. His penis, hard and long and somehow proud. A scent, naughty but also very masculine in its muskiness, came to her nostrils so strongly she almost swooned again.
“Open your mouth, honey,” he said from above her. “Nice and wide.”
She looked up into Eric’s eyes and the lust she saw in them startled her so much that the opening of her mouth had more to do with that surprise than with her obedience. Her jaw dropped, and she felt the crease in her brow return. The way he looked down at her, as if Lily were a plaything, made her nipples tingle and her pussy clench.
Again she pictured herself, almost as if she could see herself reflected in the mirror of her husband’s eyes: her virginal white, if also very naughty, underwear now askew because of Eric’s pleasures, the way he had taken her breasts out so he could play with them, the way he had moved the fabric of her panties aside to fondle her there. She saw herself kneeling to worship: to worship his cock—his hard cock, the erect penis he wanted to put inside her, that he would put inside her everywhere and in every way he chose, starting now with her pretty little mouth.
“Wider, Lily,” he said, and she obeyed, stretching her mouth further open, because she belonged to him and he needed to put his hard penis there.
“That’s it,” her husband said. “Good girl.” He put the head of his cock inside her lips, pushed it further in. “Just suck for now, nice and gently. Put your hands under and hold my balls, just hold—never squeeze. That’s it. Oh, honey, that feels so good. You’re going to be so good at this.”
She had lowered her eyes, so that she could only see the hard, sinewy base of his belly, covered in his masculine hair. The thought came to her that when a girl has a cock in her mouth she can’t say anything, can’t get into trouble for using bad language. To suck Eric’s cock was a form of discipline for her, wasn’t it? The idea made her whimper around the hard thing that pressed down her tongue and pushed against her palate. Eric gave a little grunt of manly pleasure, as if aroused by the submissive sound, and Lily felt his hands come around the back of her head.
“I’m going to have a little fuck here, now, honey,” he said, and then although it made Lily gag, he held her head still and began to move his cock swiftly in and out. “Shh,” he murmured. “Shh, just a little one. Just a little face fuck in my Lily’s mouth.”
She could sense that his desire for her had somehow forced both the crude action and the coarse talk on him, and again she felt the odd power her new husband’s need gave her over him—the same power he had over her, of course. The cock felt much too big for her mouth, and her jaw ached. Some of Eric’s seed had come out of the tip, too, and it tasted bitter, though Lily also felt a kind of pride in having drawn it from him as proof of his desire.
Lily lifted her eyes again, hoping to see in Eric’s face his desire, and she did: his face looked hard and hungry, but he said, “Eyes down, Lily. I like to watch myself in your mouth in peace.”
She felt her cheeks go hot as she obeyed. He kept fucking her face for long moments, but then, suddenly he stopped the thrusting, keeping just the tip of his penis inside Lily’s lips.
“You may look at me now,” he said in a stern voice, and Lily did; the hunger in his eyes seemed even greater. “You’ll get up and go to the bed, now, and lie on it, on your back. Raise your knees and spread them wide. Your wedding panties will stay on.”
Chapter Fifteen
Eric watched with satisfaction and lust that felt like it bordered on madness as Lily obeyed him. After he pulled his cock out of her mouth, she stood, her eyes downcast once again, and moved to the bed.
He hadn’t meant to hold her head and fuck her face, but the sight of his naughty virgin with a penis in her mouth had seemed to take hold of him. His urgent need to train her for his pleasure had pressed in upon him, and he had decided that this lesson would just have to be a little more difficult for his young wife than he had planned. To hold her head still and revel inside Lily’s soft mouth that way had brought him dangerously close to orgasm, though. But Eric intended to come inside her eighteen-year-old cunt and see if he could make a baby there on her wedding night, even as he deflowered her.
Eric had ripped the covers from the bed right after he had undressed himself, while Lily had been in the corner. She seemed to start a little when she saw the bed as nearly naked as she herself was. He smiled at the thought: the bed, undressed for sex, in its own lingerie of the single sheet upon which he would now fuck away Lily’s virginity. Lily, undressed to the special lacy things in which he would keep her as he deflowered her.
He himself, though, was completely naked, delighting in the feeling of power it gave him, to hold his hardness in his hand, slick from his bride’s inexperienced mouth. He pumped it gently to keep himself ready to fuck, as he watched Lily obey him, her cheeks pink with the shame of it—of the posture that mimicked the one in which Eric had first seen her in Dr. Fredrickson’s exam chair, but now, paradoxically, both less naked and more exposed because she had to lift her knees to show her husband her hairless pussy, swe
etly visible through the mesh of her naughty bridal panties.
Those panties were still slightly askew from the attention Eric had paid Lily’s pretty cunt during her corner time: he could see just the hint of pink lips, and even of the little flower of her anus, exposed by the bunching of the skimpy, translucent fabric. He looked into Lily’s eyes and saw that she watched him with a kind of fascination, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Then, walking slowly forward, he looked down at the place between her legs where he would take his pleasure.
Lily emitted a little whimper, as if the very thought that her husband was looking at her pussy, so prettily and lasciviously clad, had an erotic effect on her. Eric didn’t look up into her face again, though: he wanted to play with her cunt now, and he did. He stooped and put his hand there, feeling again how the lace set off the perfectly bare sexual flesh. He rubbed her up and down, in her panties, rubbed her anus, rubbed her clit, made it clear to her with his fingers that all her most secret places belonged to him.
He pulled the panties roughly aside, and he delighted so much in the sight of her pretty pink private lips and the little clit peeping out that he found he couldn’t resist the temptation to taste the sweet cunt he would fuck. He had never been a man who spent much time eating girls out, and he supposed that made him not just dominant but also a little selfish: though a girl’s pleasure was important to him, and he loved to make girls come and come and come again, he had firm, masterly ideas about the nature of sex, and he knew that he satisfied the girls he fucked all the more by putting his pleasure first.
In pursuit of that pleasure, right now, however, he wanted to taste the bare, virgin cunt he had dressed in lace, and he did. Lily tasted just the way he thought an eighteen-year-old should taste: fresh and a little tangy, and Eric used the tip of his tongue to teach her how it felt to be penetrated down there, then flicked it against the tiny clit that had just emerged from its hood at his touch, coming out to play.
She tasted lovely, but the best part of sampling her in that dominant way, for the sake of savoring a virgin cunt much more than for sake of pleasuring her, was the ecstasy it forced upon Lily nonetheless, as it also prepared her cunt for its defloration. With the first touch of his tongue, she gasped, and then cried out again and again, her hips moving lewdly to treasure the sensations he gave and the way he taught her how much pleasure she could feel under his skillful ministrations. With his fingers and his tongue he made her throw her head back and make adorable whining puppy sounds of which Eric didn’t think he could ever get enough.
His cock felt like an iron bar, though, and the time had come to make a woman of his young bride. Eric knelt on the bed, holding his cock in his right hand and pulling her panties aside with his left. He laid the head of his penis just where it belonged. He looked up for a moment to see on Lily’s face a puckered expression of submissive arousal: she was looking down her body to see where he had begun to take her virginity, then looking away as if the sight seemed too shameful, then returning her eyes to it, to the place where her husband’s cock claimed her cunt—the place from which Eric would not withdraw before he had opened her for his enjoyment henceforward, for fucking and for making babies.
“Keep those knees nice and wide,” he said. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
Lily swallowed hard and nodded.
“It will hurt at first. You may rub your clit while you get it. That will help.”
She nodded again, biting her lip. Eric couldn’t tell where this rough language was coming from; he knew himself to be a dominant lover, but something in Lily seemed to cry out to him for mastery of a kind he had never exercised in bed before.
He looked into her eyes and took her spread knees in his hands, moving his cock in further, so that she gasped and gave a little cry. Then, the pleasure of the tight little virgin cunt too great to be denied, he thrust hard, and kept thrusting as Lily writhed under him in discomfort, bucking her hips as if to get away from the cock that filled her pussy and opened her irrevocably.
She closed her eyes, her head again thrown back. Her hands went first to his chest, and for a moment Eric thought she would try to push him away, but instead she lay her fingers there, and he realized she must be enjoying the hardness of his body, perhaps even the way the cock inside her belonged to a man whose muscles held similar force.
Lily whimpered in pain, then, and Eric, riding a wave of incredible pleasure as he pumped his cock in and out, feeling her taut but tender bottom cheeks come up against his hips with every thrust, said, “Rub your clit, honey.”
Now, commanded, Lily did, putting her right hand down as her left clung to Eric’s upper arm. She cried out in a much more ambiguous way, whispered, “Oh, no,” in a husky voice, cried out even louder with what Eric thought must be the biggest orgasm of her life so far.
It brought on his own climax, and he held himself deep inside her with a shout as his whole body seemed to quake with pleasure. The feeling of his seed shooting from his balls into his no-longer-virgin wife seemed to make the sensation of his orgasm go on and on. He saw wonder in Lily’s eyes as she watched him come, and even a tiny, shy smile, as if she liked knowing she could make him feel that way.
He withdrew slowly and gently, then lay next to Lily on the bed and gathered her into him, delighting once again in the feeling of his sinewy nakedness against her softer, lingerie-clad form. “Lily,” he said very simply, and kissed her.
“Sir,” she said, and smiled, though the smile had a troubled quality.
“How do you like your punishment match?” he asked softly, looking into her eyes.
He didn’t know what kind of answer he expected; he just knew that the question should be asked and answered. Lily didn’t say anything for a long while, her blue eyes seeming almost to be turned in on herself, in search of an answer.
Finally she said, “I think it’s going to take me a long time to feel comfortable with the way…” She paused, as if trying to formulate a very complex thought in terms that might make sense. Eric smiled, hoping to encourage her and hoping she would understand that she could always take as long as she liked to figure out how to answer a question from him. “With the way my body… I mean, not just my body…”
A little distress had broken out on her face. Eric helped. “With the way you need to be dominated.”
The distress grew into a crease on her forehead and glistening eyes. She gave a quick nod. “But…” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I like my punishment match. I love my punishment match.”
Eric kissed her again, and held her close, in silence, just enjoying—and hoping Lily also enjoyed—the way their bodies went together.
After that, he led her to the shower, then, and helped her clean up, feeling a thrill of almost-guilty pride that made his already recovering cock give a leap as he washed the maiden blood from her thighs and saw how some of that blood had stained the panties he finally allowed her to remove. While she finished in the bathroom, he changed the sheets on the bed.
Then, realizing how famished he was, he called room service. He took his own shower once Lily had finished, and greeted the waiter in his bathrobe. Then, however, by his command, they ate their steaks naked, sitting on towels for the sake of the furniture. That made Lily giggle when Eric commanded it, and the sound sent a shiver of joy through him.
After dinner, he decreed, as the bridegroom, that it was time for more fucking.
“I hope I made a baby in your little pussy when I fucked you there, honey,” he said, “because I’m going to fuck your bottom now, and come inside you there.”
Lily looked at him across her nearly finished crème brûlée. He watched the blush come blazing into her cheeks, as her breath puffed rapidly in and out of her nostrils. She seemed to be trying to keep herself from saying something, but she lost the battle.
“Why do you get to say that word… those words…?” Eric could see in her eyes and hear in her voice, which hadn’t yet risen into a question, that a struggle had
broken out inside her about what to call him. He could help with that, at least.
“Eric,” he said gently. “Call me Eric, when you don’t want to call me sir. I always like sir, and when I have to punish you, you’ll need to remember to call me that, but I want to hear your voice saying my first name, too.”
Lily’s eyes narrowed, and Eric sensed now that he had probably made the struggle a little more severe, but, he felt sure, in a good way—a way better in the long run for both her and him.
“Alright, Eric,” she said firmly. “Why do you get to say fuck?” She pronounced the naughty word louder than the rest of the question, and elongated it with blazing eyes and pink cheeks, daring him to tell her she must have a spanking for even asking for the explanation.
“I could say that it’s because I’m the husband and you’re the wife, Lily,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “but although I think that’s as good an explanation as I need to give, and although I will spank you if you say it again, I don’t want to be the kind of husband who lays down the law without helping you to understand the real reason for it. The real reason may make you even less happy, though. I want a ladylike wife, and since you’re my wife you’re going to behave like a lady or I’m going to whip you until you do.”
Chapter Sixteen
For a moment, in bed after Eric had deflowered her, Lily really had liked her punishment marriage. She hadn’t lied to him.
The news that he had decided to have anal sex with her after dinner, and then his pronouncement that he intended that Lily would behave ‘like a lady’ no matter how many times Eric had to punish her before she met that standard, made her feel like she had lied. There, at the table, her punishment marriage seemed like the same atrocity she had thought it that morning. The affection she had felt for her officer husband seemed to drain out of her heart and mind, leaving behind only shame and fear.
