Forced Erotica

by Emmie Combs

  I invited Tom into the Conservatory, I felt rather shy suddenly, I didn't know what to say.

  "How are you?" I asked predictably.

  "Knackered, and you? he replied.

  "Fine," I agreed, "You're off to California I hear" I said.

  "Ah no," he said, "Cash flow, trying to get into somewhere nearer home."

  "Oxford?" I suggested.

  "Maybe," he said, "You father suggested some sort of deal?"

  "Ah!" I agreed, "That sounds familiar."

  "I have to sign a confidentiality agreement before he even tells me what it is." he said awkwardly.

  "Of course, where is it, do you have a pen." I asked, but he pulled out a nasty cheap bic biro and when I held the form for him he signed and I counter signed as witness.

  "Right, I'll show you round," I suggested, "Daddy, I'll show Tom round," I shouted.

  I knew Dessie and Sabrine were hauling firewood so I took Tom down by the lake with Dot Daddy's head groom, we sneaked through the hedge into the Melton Villa Grounds and I had Tom wait silently behind a bush as the cart approached, poor Tom he nearly came on the spot as they came round the corner.

  I suppose it was a shock, obviously they were naked, their breasts thrust out by the tack which looped round them, their wrists were cuffed to the transverse pole of the cart as they pulled side by side, their heads held high by the weight of the harness plumes and their poor bare feet padding in the mud, both had their crotch belts led down through oversize clit rings before separating their Lower lips before fastening back to the waist belts,their faces partly hidden by the bridles, their mouths filled with the padded bits, as the padded past with a cart filled with yet more firewood. "Bloody Hell!" Tom whispered.

  "Beautiful aren't they?" I said.

  "Yes," he replied inadequately, and I saw his eyes fixed on the thin straps which separated the lips of their sex.

  "Thats Southern Tack," I explained, "Daddy likes the lower lips parted, makes entering easier he says,"

  "Does it?" he asked.

  "How should I know," I exclaimed, "I'm a girl or hadn't you noticed."

  He had the decency to blush, "Anyway, we train Pony Girls, train, show, breed, the whole Mc coy," I said, "From recruitment to, well," I paused, "I'm competing at Cannes next month," I said rather too quickly, he looked blank, "The annual International PonyGirl event, the Cannes Grand Prix?"

  He looked blank.

  "You do that?" he asked.

  "Oh yes," I agreed, "It's how I keep fit."

  "I wish I was fit," Tom said, "Oh god that run was torture, your father said there might be a job on it if I won."

  "Assistant Trainer / Groom, under me." I said, "You see Daddy can't lead me out."

  "Why?" he said.

  "He's my Daddy, that's incest!" I insisted, "Look it gets very tense, Dressage Jumping Cross Country, when you are trained to a peak of perfection you need release when you finish, do you understand?"

  He was remarkably dense. "I'm sorry," he said.

  "You need seven inches of solid muscle," I explained reasonably, "and a good soothing jet of creamy,"

  "Georgina!" he protested.

  "Not up to it?" I asked, I tried a seductive smile, "I'll get tacked up and you can audition."

  He looked so bewildered, confused, yes he would be perfect, I decided, just the physical and if he passed that, well.

  I didn't get Tacked up, Daddy shouted that Tea was served so we sat on the terrace and spoke of what was in the newspapers.

  Finally Daddy got around to business, "Tom, I gather Georgina has explained the nature of the business," he said and when Tom nodded he continued, "We could use you, Tom, There's a research bursary going."

  "I was hoping to go to Oxford." he said

  "Yes, it's the course you applied for, we can offer to you, personally that is:" he emphasised, "We can offer you research facilities unavailable to other students," Daddy said, "And Kitten will be studying there as well." I glared at him, "Although she doesn't know it yet."

  "And the downside is?" he said.

  "Regular sex with me?" I suggested.

  "No seriously," Daddy said, "you will be expected to impregnate a number of retiring successful Pony Girl performers." he paused, "But that depends on the physical, and that's over to you Kitten."

  "Shall we?" I asked and Tom nodded so I just took Tom's hand and we ran to the gap in the hedge and then up the bank to Melton Villa, he was panting and blowing as we got to the stables, I went straight to the training room, took my panties off and bent over the training bar.

  He just stared, I suppose it looked odd, a metal bar six inches or so diameter between two concrete walls in the middle of a shed, normally the girl bend right over the bar and has her wrists cuffed to her ankles and is gagged and blinkered as well as generally being Tacked up but I didn't care.

  "Come on!" I shouted, as I peeled my top and bra off, "Surely you're not gay?"

  "It's not how I imagined," he said as I undid my skirt and wriggled it over my head.

  "Well it's how it is," I told him, "So do it!" I said and I bent over the bar again and stared at him looking up between my own legs.

  He paused, looked at me so sadly, and then started to undo his trouser belt, then he looked round for hook for his jacket and, "For Gods sake!" I shouted, but he pedantically folded his jacket placed it on the wall, placed his folded shirt and tie on his jacket, lowered his trousers, eased his shorts over his huge erection as just as I thought I was about to explode he began to ease it inside me.

  It was so good, so warm and filling and, and then his hands were on my breasts and he pulled me more upright so he could kiss my neck.

  "Can't you just fuck me," I asked, "Why all the touchy feely stuff?"

  "It's called making love," he said.

  "Well I want a fuck," I told him, "So get on with it." and he did oh how he did, and each thrust ground my clit into the bar and I screamed and at every withdrawal I gasped.

  "You really should gag her Tom." Daddy said as he watched us, "she sounds like the Flying Scotsman,"

  "Yes sir," Tom replied,

  "Oh well, good oh, you can do Sabrine next," he said and he wandered off.

  "No you bloody wont!" I warned him, but in my mind the pink fluffy clouds were building, a great big fluffy hedgehog was walloping around my mind, and then there was this rushing and a huge fluffy green flying Scotsman train was rushing in and out of a tunnel, and I didn't know which way was up.

  "Oohhh," I gasped, "Please," surely he should have come by now, "Tom," I said and suddenly oh my god he just exploded, inside me, pumping, pumping, pumping his cream deep inside me oh my god! My knees buckled and I collapsed over the bar.

  "How was it for you?" Tom asked predictably.

  "Yes, Ok, shall we get a Coffee?" I asked, well I wasn't going to admit it was fantastic was I?

  I dressed quickly, and headed for home and a bath, it felt like he had shot gallons of cum into me and it was busy running out, I didn't wait for him, but he was waiting for me when I opened the Bathroom door, dressed only in a bath towel "Unfinished business," he said and he bent down to kiss me, he tasted good, I knew I tasted of Minty mouthwash, I relaxed and he just swung me off my feet,"Bedroom?" he asked.

  I kicked my bedroom door open and he carried me in, and set me down on the bed, then he bolted the door and began to strip, "For heavens sake!" I shouted as he carefully folded his shirt, "Tom please," and then he was on me, "No, they're still tender," I protested as he messed around with my nipples, but finally he decided to kiss my neck, "No marks." I said.

  "Don't you ever stop giving orders?" he asked.

  "Tom!" I protested and then he was on me, "Oh Tom," I don't remember how it happened but suddenly he was deep inside me, all eight inches of him, I almost expected his thing to come up my throat and into my mouth from inside, oh he was good, so good, "So good!" I muttered, "Oohhh soooo gooood," was it Tom, was it the fact I hadn't had any decent straight sex f
or ages but I didn't care this was awesome.

  "Want to change position?" he asked.

  "Nooo," I gurgled, but there were three giant fluffy purple Corgettes having a pitched battle inside my head, and a Crocodile with a Gucci handbag and.

  "Oops sorry," Tom said, "Can't hang," he said and he started cumming, not as much as before but nice, we lay for ages, until I realised his cum was seeping into my sheets and mattress where I had to sleep.

  "Up, Up, Up," I ordered.

  "Giving orders again!" he said and he pinned me to the bed for a long lingering mouth to mouth kiss.

  He released me eventually, "Look I said, you need to realise who's in charge," and he pinned me down again.

  I came to the conclusion that maybe he misunderstood what I meant, but I decided but it didn't matter anyway if it was this good.

  Daddy rapped on the door, "Miss Farque is due in ten minutes Kitten," he said, "Get a shower first dear please, I suggest you share the water Mister Warrender," he said knowingly, "Cold preferably, Ten Minutes."

  "What do you think Tom?" I asked.

  "Oh, it can't be helped," he said.

  "About the job?" I asked.

  "Can I see you again?" he asked.

  "All the time if you take the job," I told him.

  "Yes, then yes," he agreed.

  I did need the cold water, as Daddy suspected, not for me but for Tom, his powers of recovery were distinctly promising and nine minutes after Daddy came to find us I hustled Tom Downstairs.

  I was still struggling to straighten my black knee length almost backless posh dress we I came downstairs and had no time to find any pantihose or stockings, but at least my pearl necklace and ear rings looked the part even if they were great grandma's cast offs!

  Daddy was waiting for us, "Shall you join us do you think Tom," he asked as Tom went to open the front door.

  "Yes Sir, I think I should like that," Tom agreed.

  "Okey Dokey, I'll get the forms together make some calls, that sort of thing and ring you tomorrow or the day after," Daddy promised, "Do you have any worries at all?"

  "Of course sir, I don't really know what is involved sir." he said.

  "Well, don't be misled by Georgina,"Daddy said seriously," this is a serious job young man," he emphasised, "It can be very demanding, especially on a bitterly cold January morning,"

  "Yes sir," Tom said, as Daddy opened the front door.

  "But to begin with you will be helping to train Georgina or Rose as she is known professionally." Daddy said, "and I must say." he said, "In my experience she is a particularly easy Pony to please."

  "Yes sir I'll remember that, Thank you sir," Tom said.

  "Particularly easy Pony to please?" I queried, "What did you mean a particularly easy Pony to please?"

  The End.

  For Him I Am Always Ready

  The rain fills my consciousness, and I feel his lips on my shoulder. I pretend I am still sleeping; the cradle of comforting warmth there having lulled my senses, brought the world outside to a standstill. He takes a deep breath, his face still buried in my hair, and I feel my flesh quiver in response.

  Again I feel his lips graze my shoulder, this time his fingertips gently running the length of my body, and against my will my spine arches. I respond to his touch, become a languidly docile kitten in his arms. He holds me tighter and presses his hard length against the swell of my body, his hand traveling lower.

  "Are you awake?" he asks, a courtesy; my response unimportant. He has already claimed me several times this night, his appetites rival only my own, and I love him for it. He turns me to him and captures my mouth in a hungry kiss. His mouth slides over my chin, across my jaw, down my neck. The urgency in his lips enough to wake the dead.

  My fingers find his hair, tangle in the silky softness. Baby down. His hair feels like baby down. I whimper into his mouth. Feel the slick wetness bathe my thighs. I am ready. For him, I am always ready. In one swift graceful motion he is inside of me, and like always, I gasp at the invasion.

  I wrap my legs around his waist and cling to him, as I return the urgency of his kiss with my own. I clutch at his shoulders, dig my fingertips in as I pull him in as tightly as I can. It is never enough; it's almost as if I were trying to pull him inside of my soul.

  He takes a hold of my hands, pulls them up over my head, pins them there with his strength. One hand enough to hold me captive. It weakens me, makes me submit to his every whim. He wields his strength, wields his sword, like a master. I am in ecstasy. His free hand finds my neck, closes gently, cups my chin. His lips find mine, his teeth bite down. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to make me moan loudly into his mouth.

  The sound encourages him. Makes him drive into me at a frantic pace. I whimper and cry out things in the dark that would make old sailors blush. I beg in languages foreign to virgins. But it isn't enough; he wants to hear me scream. He begins to turn me over before he has completely drawn out of my body, I can feel the spin of it inside of me. I cry out again.

  Face down I lay, the pillows muffling the sounds I make for him. He pulls me up by a fistful of hair, and a moan somewhere between pleasure and pain fills the night. "Yeah," he groans, as he brings a hand down on my ass. The slap of skin against skin reverberating in the night, heated flesh against heated flesh, rough calloused hands against molded smoothness. Finally the screams he seeks shatter through the sounds our bodies make together. I push into him, over and over, I push into him. Rutting like a mindless whore; his fist in my hair holding my head at a backwards angle, his hand alternating between spanks and firm grips that pull me into him harder and harder each time.

  He sits back on his heels and brings me up on my knees. I am bowed backwards, my knees on either side of his, my back against his chest. He begins to bite me; my neck and shoulders, while his fingers find the core of my center. He finds a rhythm and his fingertips, together with the angle of his thrust, have caused me to forget how to string words together. My body begins to tremble, as heat pools in my belly, and I am well aware that I look like I am in the throes of a seizure. I do not care. I can feel my orgasm barreling at me like a runaway train, and the pressure of it making me ache for release.

  Just when I think I can hardly stand anymore pleasure, he simultaneously bites my neck, presses my nipple between his thumb and middle finger, presses down on my clitoris and thrusts upwards into my body. The pressure is released as the dam that has held my juices inside of me finally crumbles. I feel my wetness down my thighs, on his thighs; he rides me through the orgasm. As he holds me down; I fly apart into a million pieces in his arms.

  I am pliant now. A veritable rag doll. His rag doll. He pushes me down, and lets his lips trail a path down my spine. I feel his tongue. I shiver and open my legs wider. Like a wanton slut, I open for him, wordlessly begging for what is to come. I want it more than he does now. As his tongue touches me, I hiss in pleasure. I am all cat now, a cat in heat. With my hands I hold my body open, with my hips I press upwards into his mouth. He pulls his mouth away, and before I can protest his finger is sliding into me. The wetness of his tongue enough to make it all pleasure, no pain. I am mewling, mindless in the pleasure.

  "Ask for it," he demands, his voice rich melted chocolate in my ear. "Tell me what you want."

  "You know what I want," I answer.

  "I want you to fucking tell me. Tell me what you fucking want," he demands again, his finger sliding in and out of me, the fingertips of his other hand twirling circles around my clitoris, which he has yet to stop stroking since the first orgasm. The pleasure almost pain again.

  "Fuck me," I beg.

  "Where," he demands.

  "Fuck me in my ass, fuck me hard. Give it to me in the ass," I beg somewhere between a moan and a scream.

  I feel his finger slide out of me a final time, and then the thicker assault of his penis pushing against me. Opening me for him. His stroke is deep. Hard. And slow. His arms have wrapped around me, and he is p
ressing me to his body.

  "So good," he moans in my ear, and I squeeze. I want him to cum. I want to feel the heat of his semen spray my insides. He doesn't last long like this, but the indescribable pleasure I feel as he hits my g-spot is unlike any other I have ever felt. And I know I couldn't take the agony of this pleasure for very long. He is so thick and hard I cannot stand it.

  I feel another orgasm building, and I squeeze and release to bring him closer to his own climax. I want us to go together. "You're gonna make me cum," he whispers in my ear.

  "I know," I whisper back. "That's what I want, baby. I want you to cum for me. Cum in my ass. Let me be your bad girl." And it is enough to send him over the edge. As I feel the first drops of his essence, I release the orgasm I have been holding back. Together we ride a cloud of lust; sex and magic binding us.

  We collapse in a heap on the pillows. I feel him shrinking, but he is still in my body. Together we drift back to sleep. Tied to each other in ways more than physical. Understanding the unstated darkness that lives inside of both of us. Thriving on its power. We sleep the deep contented sleep of lovers well sated. I know that when we wake, he will be rock hard inside of me, and I will already be open for him. Because, like I said, for him, for him I am always ready.

  The End.

  Tight Places

  After an adventurous freshman year of college that included my first lesbian experience, my first sexual experience with two guys at one time and several sessions of mutual masturbation with my roommate, I was determined to have as much fun during my sophomore year. After the first week of classes was over, my new roommate, Tara, and I decided Friday night was going to be a busy one. As we were getting ready, the phone calls were made and a plan was put into place to make our rounds at on "The Strip", a row of bars tucked into a corner on the edge of campus.

  Tara was about 5'5" and 100 pounds with perky B Cupped breasts that stood at attention. She wiggled her way into a form fitting black dress that came several inches above her knees. Up top, it had thin straps and was low cut that gave a generous view of her cleavage. Though I didn't pay too much attention as she got dressed, I was pretty sure she hadn't put any panties on underneath, perhaps expecting some excitement from her boyfriend, Rob, during the evening. Being that I didn't have a boyfriend to excite and frankly wasn't looking for one, I dressed a bit more conservatively. I pulled on a red satin thong with a t back over my freshly shaven mound before putting on a red, white and black sundress that came just to top of my cleavage, low cut enough to show the valley between my C cups. A bra just wasn't practical so I went without.