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Erotic Collection 23

Page 5

by C J Edwards


  Chloe’s head whipped back and she cried out into her gag. “Nggugg!”

  Dad chuckled and nodded at me. “That’s how to spank my wife!” He gave her a few more of the cruel cuts and then set the strap down for a moment to gently caress her red arse, slipping the fingers of his other hand into her juicy pussy. Considering how little attention he had given her cunt, she was surprisingly moist. Then, when he felt she had relaxed enough, he picked the strap back up and began a steady rhythm across both buttocks, not stopping until they both glowed a satisfying red. Chloe sobbed quietly throughout the ordeal but another quick check revealed her pussy was now completely dripping; something about this torment was very arousing to his wife. Laying the strap down on a table, Dad stroked the big, round, spheres of her bottom; now as red as a Rhesus Monkey. “That’s how to give a good strapping, son,” he told me. “I hope you were paying attention because if you want to fuck my wife you also need to know how to control her!” Unzipping again, he gripped her firmly by the hips and buried himself up to the balls in her hot pussy. Banging her hard, her upper body came up off the horse, only to drop back down and bounce on her full tits. He fucked her like an animal until his balls erupted and filled her with hot cum. Patting his wife on the bottom as he withdrew, he tossed me the big key. “All yours,” he said and it wasn’t clear if he meant the room or his wife. “Have fun exploring and don’t let her leave until you have her completely under your control. I’ll be back later!” And with that, he just left.

  As Chloe lay panting on the horse, I looked around the dungeon. There was lots of familiar stuff but other things I had never seen before. Then I found something familiar. “I’ve seen this in films,” I said out loud to myself. “Bloody hell!”

  It was a simple device that consisted of a couple of an old fashioned skirting board suspended with the rounded edge upwards on a pulley system. There was another rope hanging from the ceiling in front of it that was clearly for her arms. I could see exactly how it worked.

  Freeing Chloe’s arms and legs, I pulled her to her feet. “Time to ride the wooden pony,” I laughed and saw the fear in her eyes. The lead was still hanging from her collar and I left it nestled in the hollow between her breasts as I strapped cuffs around her wrists and clipped them to the hanging rope. Reaching behind her head, I unfastened the gag. “There’s not much point in doing this if I can’t hear you,” I whispered. Then, hauling on the rope, I pulled the planks up between her trembling thighs and she shot up on to her toes.

  The principle of the wooden pony is simple but effective. The young woman is held firmly but loosely in place while the ‘pony’ is raised to press up hard against her sex, pressing the sensitive flesh between hard wood and the bony structure of her pelvis. The rope allows some movement but not enough that she can break her position and dismount, the sharp pain of the wood against her pussy causes her instinctively to rise up on to her toes and the torture begins as she waits helplessly for the inevitable muscle fatigue to set in. After many long minutes her calves will finally tire. She will strain to lower herself as gently as possible to the hard, narrow surface of the pony. Her delicate flesh is crushed between the pony and her pelvis, raising the first of many small bruises upon her sex. Seconds later, enough strength returns to her muscles to lift her and she rises again, but only for a few minutes this time. Muscles screaming, again she lowers herself, carefully placing her weight on a new, unmarked place of her sex. It takes longer to summon the strength to rise a third time, but after long seconds riding the wooden pony she points her toes and pushes up; sweating from the exertion. As her pussy flesh swells, comfort is impossible and she squirms constantly, ‘riding the wooden pony.’

  As the plank was raised, Chloe looked back at me, wide-eyed with panic. A soft whimper escaped her rosy lips and she spoke out for the first time. “Please Johnny. Don’t do this. You know I’ll do anything for you.” I secured the rope through a cleat and patted her bottom, saying nothing. She tested her position as well as she could up on her points like a ballerina. Then I saw realisation in her eyes as she accepted she didn’t quite have enough movement in the rope to break her stance and dismount from the pony. There was now little she could do but wait helplessly for her legs to tire.

  I stepped back and admired the scene. My stepmother was gorgeous in any circumstances but hanging there, completely in my power, she was particularly horny. I had an intoxicating rush of lust for her at the sense of power I now had over this gorgeous creature.

  I circled round behind her and tested her bonds, then slid my arms down her silky arms into her armpits, checking her grooming. She didn’t like that much and squirmed away from my hands and considering what else I had done and would do to her, I found that amusing. She was going nowhere though. The combination of the rope around her wrists and the plank between her thighs saw to that but the logic of her situation didn’t stop Chloe struggling. I could feel her heart hammering in her chest as my hands moved to her subtly uplifted breasts, gently squeezing them and enjoying the hardness of her nipples against my palms. She gave a little yelp as I pinched one hard between finger and thumb.

  Somehow, she managed to stay up on her toes as I ran my hands up and down her vibrant body. I reached behind to grasp her smooth arse cheeks and squeeze them too, then moving towards to the tender parts she was working so hard to protect. By now, the muscles in her thighs and calves were clearly straining and as visible as a female bodybuilder’s. I caressed them too. It was only a matter of time before they gave out altogether. She tried to adjust her feet just a little and almost lost her balance. I stepped back and pulled up a chair, content for now to admire her perfect form, and the way it swayed ever so slightly as she strived to remain motionless.

  After several long, unbearable minutes, Chloe had no option but to give in to the fatigue that she had been fighting off for so long. She tried using what little strength she had left to lower herself as gently as possible onto the board but in the last second her muscles gave a little and she dropped an inch or two. The uncompromisingly hard surface pressed hard against her sex., she yelped and shot straight back up again.

  This round was clearly many times harder for Chloe. Her eyes were closed and she was softly whimpering as beads of sweat broke out all over her body. It was time to distract her a little and have some fun. I selected a fine leather riding crop from a stand to her side and swished it a couple of times in the air to test it. Her eyes opened at the familiar sound and she begged again. “God Johnny. Have some pity. Please, no!” Without warning, I flicked my arm in a backswing and brought the cruel flogger down, straight across her two nipples. CRACK!

  She yelped again and I ignored it, whipping her several times more in quick succession to punctuate my words as I lectured her. “My… name… is… Sir… or… Master!”

  “Sorry, Sir… Master,” she muttered quickly. I weighed her tortured tits in my hands and tested the wetness of her pussy before standing back again. Time passed. For Chloe, long and agonizing minutes of torment. Her legs were quivering now from over-exertion. As she tired, more time was spent with her weight on that most sensitive region, eliciting a series of gasps and whimpers from her gagged mouth. The long struggle finally ended when her legs give away completely, and she had to lower herself, full-force onto the hideously cruel device, with its edge planted firmly between her swollen folds.

  I felt a shiver of excitement running through me and, if possible, I was even more turned on than I before. We were in the end game now. My once haughty stepmom was wriggling and sliding painfully back and forth along the wooden edge as her body instinctively and fruitlessly looked for a position that would ease the pressure on her tortured cunt.

  I spoke to her, clearly and firmly so it registered through the fog of her brain. “You are mine now, Chloe; do you understand?” She nodded furiously. “I can do anything I wish to you at any time and with anyone I wish. Do you understand. Answer me!”

  “Yes Master!”r />
  “I’m going to stop the pain now and take your arse. Would you like that!”

  “Oh, yes Master!”

  I suspected she only heard the first bit so I went for a bit of reinforcement. “Beg me to fuck you in the arse, Chloe!”

  She paused for a moment and then begged as though her life depended on it, her voice heavy with sobs and gasps. “Pleeeease Master. Please fuck my arse!”

  I released the cleat and dropped the pony to the floor. Chloe exhaled in a long moan, like a deflating balloon. “Thank you Master,” she said quietly. I appraised her again. Even in the dim lights of the dungeon, I could see her clit glistening like a pearl, her arousal clearly evident. Pain and pleasure now seemed to be one and the same for this woman! Reaching down between her thighs, I ran my hand against the pink, swollen flesh. She expelled a long moan and I watched with fascination as she squirmed around my rough caresses. My own lust then seized me again, more terribly and urgently now. I turned her head to kiss her and she eagerly parted her lips, allowing our swirling tongues to meet. Then I stepped around her and unzipped. Her breathing quickened with anticipation when she felt my throbbing cock press against her unprotected anus. I rubbed her inflamed sex with one hand and parted her buttocks with the other.

  There was an initial back pressure but otherwise I slipped very easily into Chloe’s back passage. It seemed the session had relaxed her back there as well. She was still tight though and very hot. Her arms were still raised by the rope and that gave me good access to her ripe tits as well as her clit, so I played her body like a responsive instrument as I pumped her arse. My cock felt like it was swollen to twice its size, I was so aroused and had no hope of lasting long. I gripped her slinky hips tightly for leverage and just hammered her. The noises of unbridled sex echoed around the stone chamber; wet slapping and the hapless whimpering of a woman under the control of her own sexuality.

  My cock bulged and I sprayed what seemed pints of hot spunk straight into Chloe’s belly. She came hard herself; screaming and cursing as she swayed on the rope until she fully spent herself, hanging from the ceiling and supported only by the rope around her wrists and my now softening rod in her behind.

  A slow clapping from behind told me Dad was back. I pulled out and zipped up. He had George, my lesbian rugby mate with him. “I hope you’ve fully trained her son,” he smiled.

  “Oh, I think so,” I beamed back. “Watch this!” I unclipped the rope and Chloe dropped to the floor, exhausted. I took the lead and tugged her up to hands and knees. “What would you like to do now slut?”

  “Anything that pleases you, Master,” she answered quickly with her eyes lowered.

  I led her to a large cage with dog bedding and locked her inside. “Get some rest pet,” I told her. “I reckon George will want to put you through your paces next!”

  Dad roared with laughter. “Too right. But we don’t want to damage her.” He slapped George on the back like she was an old mate. “Come on then. Let’s crack a few beers and put the match on.” He took the key off me and turned off the lights before locking the door behind us. Chloe was already fast asleep, with a contented little smile on her face.

  CORDY’S FIRST TIME

  “Good luck, sweetheart,” I kissed my stepdaughter on the cheek and indulged in a bit of old man perving as I watched her lithe eighteen-year-old body shimmy down the footpath to where her latest date was waiting.

  We’d been in the house alone for three days now, as Anastasia, my second wife was away on a course for work. I hardly knew her daughter before that as we’d never really lived under the same roof and to be honest I saw her as a boorish, somewhat spoilt kid. Now, I reminded myself, as I watched her oddly fat little arse swaying in front of my eyes, I saw her completely differently.

  Cordelia had flirted outrageously with me from the moment her mum had left and I found it flattering so played along. I mean, she was a sweet younger version of her forty-two her old mum and more than half my age. I wasn’t use to this sort of attention and made the most of it, knowing full well it couldn’t lead anywhere and taking care of my sexual tension myself in the evenings.

  She was completely open about things in a way I had never experienced. Her generation, I suppose! And it took no time at all for her to ask for my guidance on her sexual problem!

  “I’m still a virgin, you know, Daddy!” She was leaning on the breakfast bar, dressed only in a shorty nightie with little bunnies on it that had ridden halfway up her golden thighs and she was seductively licking a lolly. The whole Lolita combination was I thought, cleverly put together and made my cock hurt; particularly the daddy thing for some odd reason. The girl knew how to tease!

  “There are some things you should keep secret from your parents you know, cupcake,” I smiled at the wayward girl.

  Cordy popped her lolly out and ran her tongue over the top of it; her eyes nit leaving mine. “I’m telling you for a reason, silly! I need your advice on man stuff!”

  I sipped my coffee for a moment. “Oh?”

  She came and stood behind me. Her hands rested on my shoulders and I could smell her feminine scent. I thought of her mother as she whispered in my ear, her soft lips just brushing me she was so close. “I’m not a virgin by choice you know!”

  “Oh?” My mouth was dry. This little girl was actually intimidating me now. “Why are you a virgin then?”

  “I’m a virgin because I’m too good at sucking dick!”

  I choked on my coffee but quickly regained my composure. Despite my stepdaughter’s dangerous games. I was now intrigued in this paradox. “So! Care to explain just how that works?”

  She was now virtually on my lap. “Well. Every time I get to second base with a new boy, he wants a blow job. I oblige and I’m too good. He cums and then fall asleep or loses interest.

  I laughed out loud. “Well that’s easy to solve!”

  “It is?”

  “Of course. You’ve got three options!”

  “I do?”

  “Yes you do. Number one is, don’t start with a blow job, no matter what he says.”

  She pouted. “Easier said than done.”

  Number two, don’t finish the blowjob.”

  “Hmm. Some of them don’t last two minutes!”

  “And number three is find a man who can last more than two minutes… or who doesn’t fall asleep until his woman is satisfied.”

  Cordy got up and walked across the room to pour a coffee from the percolator. “And where might one find such a man?” She hid her emotions with a poor impression of the Queen.

  Not here,” I laughed and quickly left the room.

  ***

  Cordy was home early from the date again; I was still up and sipping cocoa in the kitchen. She walked in and saw me. Her feline eyes were full of emotion and she looked like she was about say something but after an awkward silence of about a minute, abruptly turned on her heel and marched upstairs. As I heard her bedroom door slam, I finished the last of my drink and headed into the lounge to watch a bit of sport.

  There was some American football game on the telly; not really my thing and my mind was wandering where it really shouldn’t so I flicked on to the adult channels in an attempt to distract my cock away from the jailbait upstairs. The first few channels were showing milf and gilf scenes which really weren’t for me, Then I switched on to the Red Channel and hit the jackpot. The action was centred on a middle-aged bloke in a suit bending over a young woman who was clearly in her twenties but dressed as a traditional schoolgirl – pleated grey skirt, blouse and blazer. My cock throbbed and ached for some attention. I glanced at the door and made my mind up. Creeping up the stars, I paused and listened outside my stepdaughter’s door. I could hear steady, heavy breathing. She was fast asleep!

  I went straight back to the sofa. The girl had rosy pink butt cheeks and it was clear I had just missed her getting a good spanking. No matter. He freed an impressively big prong and rammed it st
raight into the petite girl from behind. The long moan was music to my ears and went straight to work on my own manhood.

  It didn’t take me long to get off and catch my seed in a tissue. I lay back out of breath and reflected on how hard I’d wanked myself. It hadn’t felt that intense since I was a teenager. Then I realised my real inspiration. I was watching the pretty blonde school on the telly but it was Cordy at the front of my mind as I ejaculated into my hand.

  I glanced over at my stepdaughter’s door as I passed. It was pretty clear how her night had gone and I wondered if I’d be able to cheer her up in the morning. Perhaps a shopping trip would do the trick. She was female after all!

  I fell asleep quickly. I had trained that day and that always helped me to sleep. I thought about little Cordy on her knees in front of her latest beau and my cock throbbed at the thought. I could quite happily have wanked myself off but resisted the temptation and rolled over instead, thinking wrong thoughts about my stepdaughter as I drifted off.

  ***

  I was having torrid dreams. My brain flicked from Ana to Cordy, confusing me and driving me wild. One moment I was thrusting hard into my wife, her red hair spread across the pillow and then I went to kiss her and found it was her daughter. It was so authentic, I was sure I could feel smooth female skin and smell that enticing scent. Cordy’s, not Ana’s!

  I started and suddenly realised I was awake. And I could still smell her, still feel her. A soft hand was gently pumping my rock hard cock and she was nuzzling at my neck. She! It was Cordy! My eyes shot open and I put my hand on her shoulder to push her away.

 

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