Cinderella: Bound for the Prince

by Powerone


Sizzler Editions

ISBN 9781615086184
All rights reserved
Copyright 2015 Powerone
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.
For information: http://SizzlerEditions.com
A Renaissance E Books publication


Cinderella, Bound for The Prince is a kinky fairytale with a sensual twist. Cinderella’s stepmother and stepsisters are not just mean but evil - and they treat her cruelly and treat her as a slave.

Prince Michael holds a ball to find a bride. On the night of the ball, Cinderella, young and innocent, cries in the kitchen after her sisters have left for the ball. Then, a beggar taps softly at her door. Disturbed by her crying, Straparola, her fairy godfather, has appeared to help her attend the ball. But this fairy godfather expects a proper thanks and pleasuring. Once paid, it takes him only a flip of his magic wand to transform Cinderella into the beautiful Ella and send her off in a royal carriage.
At the ball, Ella captures the prince’s heart and his very wicked desires and she realizes that as his future bride she can have anything she wants. Unlike most fairytale heroines, Cinderella finds that she doesn’t want happiness; she wants revenge on her stepmother and stepsisters.
The aristocrats have for centuries taken their pleasure at the Hellfire Club, where their most decadent appetites for domination are fulfilled. Prince Michael’s ancestors were leading members and he promises Ella her stepmother and stepsisters will be brought there for any revenge she wants, but only if she will submit to him. Each time Cinderella has to transform into Ella, Straparola also demands her innocent body as a reward. Ella agrees to both men’s bargain – no price is too high to pay for revenge.
Cinderella’s stepmother and stepsisters are summoned to the palace where they will be given the riches and noble titles they dream of, but the price they must first pay is public humiliation, defilement and strict punishment -- in the confines of the Hellfire Club. It is an offer they cannot refuse.

Here is another searing novel of bondage and submission as only Powerone, bestselling novelist of BDSM can write.


Prologue

Nestled in the green hills was the village of Hampstead, a farming community that prospered when the weather was good and suffered when the weather was dry.

Today, a young girl stood brokenhearted as her mother was laid to rest. Her father stood by her as the pine coffin was lowered into the ground. He was devastated by the loss of his wife of twenty years and mother of his daughter, Cinderella. They clutched hands as the coffin was lowered by ropes until it disappeared from sight below, the dark earth piled nearby. They paid their final respects, a handful of dirt thrown onto the coffin along with a single red rose.

They went home that night to an empty house that no longer resonated with her cheery laughter. The father, in hopes of consoling his grief, sought to find a woman that would take away his sorrow and also be a good mother to his daughter. In Hempstead, his choices were limited, but he settled on a widow with two daughters about the same age as Cinderella. After a brief engagement, they married and she moved in with her two daughters.

Cinderella hated to see her father in such despair that she never said anything bad of the woman. Lady Browning took charge of the household along with her two daughters, Elizabet and Mary. Cinderella felt the resentment instantly. The daughters were lazy and insolent and thought that they were the most beautiful women of the realm. Lady Browning felt contempt for Cinderella, so pure and good. While Elizabet and Mary slept in feather beds in nice bedrooms, Cinderella was confined to a small closet with a straw bed near the kitchen. Cinderella became the maid for Lady Browning and her daughters, scrubbing their floors, emptying their chamber pots and cooking all the meals as well as cleaning the kitchen.

Cinderella never protested, seeing her father with a smile on his face once again. He worked hard and was rarely home, so he saw none of Lady Browning’s evil temper or mistreatment of Cinderella.

Her father prospered in business for the last two years. Their wealth grew, but he became busier and was home less and less. Cinderella approached her eighteenth birthday in a month when tragedy befell her again. Her father was seriously injured when he inspected one of the farms he owned that was tended by tenant farmers. His leg was caught in a plow, and the doctor had to sever it above the knee. Cinderella took to his bedside as much as she could, but blood poisoning set in as his leg turned gangrene. The doctors tried to save him, but he was gone within two weeks.

The funeral and burial was quick. There were rumors that Lady Browning had something to do with the accident, but Cinderella never talked ill of her. Lady Browning quickly sold the house in Hempstead, and they moved into a large mansion in Manchester. Lady Browning bought it on purpose, nearby to one of the castles of the King of England and home to his son, Prince Michael. Lady Browning had designs on Prince Michael for one of her daughters and she cared little which one married him.





Chapter 1





Trying to Understand Men


Cinderella watched as the shopkeepers brought in furniture for the last two weeks. Lady Browning spent money as if it no longer mattered. Elizabet and Mary had fine rooms with ornately carved furniture, none more than the large canopy beds that took up half the room. The living room had seating for two dozen guests as well as the large table in the dining room. The kitchen was large, but Cinderella’s closet was no bigger than before, situated near the large stove. The mattress was better, a one-inch-thick pad that covered the floor along with a single dresser of three drawers, more than enough to hold her meager collection of clothes. Yet, Cinderella didn’t despair her plight. She’d be eighteen in one day, and she could leave if she wanted to. But, she knew that she wouldn’t, at least not yet. There was nowhere to go, and an unmarried woman never left to live by herself. Most would think that she shamed her family and was banished for some unsavory act.

Lady Browning thought Cinderella was pure and good, but Cinderella knew differently. The last year she had thoughts that she couldn’t put out of her head, sinful thoughts. She’d be confined to the houses for years with only brief visits to the village. Her body matured, but her mind was still young and inexperienced with men. Yet, she couldn’t put them out of her head. She wanted to be with a man, to find one that would love her as her father did her mother.

Elizabet was taller than her sister, Mary, by two inches and a year older, nineteen now. She had red hair that made her stand out, and she made Cinderella meticulously comb it one hundred strokes every night before she went to bed. She had full breasts that she made sure were pushed up high by her corset to reveal her ample, pale cleavage. Her hips were full, perfect for child bearing, and she had a plump bottom that she accented with her corset. Her mother was always on her for eating too much, so Elizabet’s corset was stringently tightened around her body until she could barely breathe. It was worth it when she saw her hourglass figure in the full-length mirror. She often posed in front of the mirror to admire her womanly figure. She knew of her mother’s intentions for Mary or herself to be married to Prince Michael. She had no intentions of letting Mary have him. Elizabet was no longer a virgin; she’d seduce him with her sexy body.

Mary was smarter than her sister. Her body wasn’t as full and womanly as Elizabet, but she was younger and she’d fill out. She knew that men didn’t want just beauty, but they also wanted intellect. Her brown hair was long, below her waist, and that drew men’s eyes to her lush bottom. She was smaller in the chest, so she stood up straighter and made sure her breasts were pushed up prominently. She knew Elizabet wasn’t a virgin, but Mary was. She wasn’t about to give up her innocence until she was married. But, that didn’t mean she knew little of men. She knew enough to give a man his pleasure with her hand and keep him interested and coming back for more.

They all made sure that Cinderella never had anything more than a shabby dress to wear that was always dirty from working in the kitchen. Her pale-blonde hair was long and unkempt. Yet, beneath it all, they were jealous of her beauty, though none of them would admit it. That is why they kept her out of sight and busy with the drudgery of taking care of the house.

Cinderella brushed Elizabet’s hair one hundred strokes with the fine, ivory comb. It slid easily through her silken hair.

“You may go now,” Elizabet dismissed Cinderella curtly.

Cinderella went back to her room. She brushed her hair as best she could with the small comb with broken teeth, a hand-me-down from Mary. She lay down on the mattress and closed her eyes, but her head filled with visions that haunted her sleeping hours.

It was a year ago, almost to the day, that she witnessed it. It was back in the house in Hempstead. Her father was gone on one of his business trips. Cinderella had served dinner and Mary had a beau as a guest. He was a handsome, strapping young man, but he never looked up at Cinderella when she served dinner as if she was invisible.

After dinner, Cinderella served brandies in the living room. Lady Browning stayed for a few minutes before she excused herself. Elizabet followed her shortly thereafter. Cinderella cleaned the kitchen, but she was curious. She went to her room and closed the door and she waited thirty minutes. She opened her door and listened, but she didn’t hear anyone. She crept through the kitchen silently and went to the dining room. She opened the door the slightest bit that went to the living room. It was just the right position for her. Mary and her beau were on the settee. She remembered every single detail as if it happened to her.

Her beau had his arm around Mary’s shoulder and drew her next to him. He lifted up her chin until her lips were only inches from his. Mary wet her lips so sensuously, and then, they touched. Cinderella could see his tongue move out his lips before they met. She was sure that his tongue was in Mary’s mouth. He held her tighter as they turned sideways until their bodies pressed up against each other. Her eyes were closed as they kissed so passionately.

They broke the kiss, but they stayed pressed against each other. “You are so beautiful, Mary.” Jeffrey’s tongue ran over her wet lips.

“You take my breath away, Jeffrey.” His mouth moved down from her lips and nuzzled on her neck as she moaned passionately. He didn’t stop there, his lips moved lower as his mouth ran over her cleavage.

Cinderella couldn’t believe that Mary allowed such indecencies, but it looked as though she thrust her breasts out further. Cinderella watched as he grew bolder. His hand went to her leg, but it pushed her dress out of the way until his hand found the naked flesh of her knee. Yet, Mary did nothing to stop him, and his mouth pushed deep between her breasts. Cinderella could feel her nipples swell as if it were her breasts that were mouthed and licked so passionately. The hand slid higher up her leg, and now, her white thighs were revealed. Mary did nothing to close her legs as the hand caressed her inner thigh.

Cinderella’s hand slid down her leg until she could push her thin dress out of the way. She found her naked thighs as she spread her legs obediently. Her fingers crept closer to her mound when she was stopped in her tracks.

“No, you can’t do that, Jeffrey. I’m a virgin and I intend to stay that way until I’m married.”

Cinderella saw the look of disappointment on Jeffrey’s face when Mary’s hand stopped him in his tracks.

“But, Mary. I have needs. I can’t wait,” he pleaded with her.

“I know your needs, the needs of men. Let me help you.” She smiled as she pushed his hand out from beneath her dress and pulled it down, but her other hand went to his leg. She stopped when it was on his thigh and that is when Cinderella saw it. She’d never noticed it before. The front of his trousers stood up. She knew what it was, yet she never saw one before.

“Yes, yes,” he pleaded with her as he gazed down at her small hand curled next to his organ.

Cinderella could see it move in his trousers, and she wondered why it did without being touched. She heard him moan loudly as Mary’s fingers curled around the protrusion in his trousers. Jeffrey’s head was thrown back in pleasure, yet Mary hardly moved her hand.

“Do you want me to stroke it for you, Jeffrey?”

“Yes, let your magical fingers caress my prick,” his voice was deep and heavy.

He’d called it his prick. She saw Mary’s fingers move, tightening on the thick prick beneath his trousers. She began to move them up and down. Cinderella didn’t know it would be so big and long. It was as though her fingers explored it. Then, she did something that Cinderella didn’t understand. Her other hand slid between his legs. He spread his legs as a woman would do as her fingers curled between them until she clutched him. He moved as though he was startled, and she got another deep moan from his lips. Her fingers weren’t still, now both of them moved urgently. Cinderella didn’t know what Mary did, but Jeffrey was in ecstasy.

“Take it out so you can worship my prick, Mary.” He grew bolder.

Cinderella grew excited at the thought of seeing a prick for the first time. She felt wetness between her legs, and it scared her. Why do I grow wet? She couldn’t take her eyes off of Mary as she expertly unbuttoned his trousers as though she’d done this a hundred times. She pulled his trouser open, but Jeffrey was eager. He lifted up his lower body, and Mary pulled his trousers down. Cinderella got a better view of his prick. It pushed up his undergarment, and she could make it out better. It was thick and long. She saw a wet spot on his undergarment. What happened that made him do that?

“Take them off; I must feel your hand on my naked prick,” Jeffrey cried out urgently. His lower body rose up again as Mary tugged his undergarment down

Cinderella’s eyes were glued to his prick, not his undergarment. It looked like it caught on his undergarment, but then, it pulled free. She put a hand on her mouth to contain her surprised gasp when it was revealed. It looked so menacing, bouncing freely on its own. She’d never seen anything like it before. It was as big as a hand, but it looked like a hat sat on the top of it, a dark, angry red hat, thicker than the stalk that held it up. The shaft had thick veins that ran up it, but it also had a thatch of wiry, black hair at the base.

“Touch it,” Jeffrey begged her once again.

Cinderella couldn’t believe how easy it was to control a man with your hand. Mary barely did anything, and he begged her like a baby.

“Yes, I’ll take care of my man,” Mary purred at him. Her hand reached down to clasp his throbbing prick and control its erratic movement. She began to stroke it instantly.

Jeffrey moaned once again as soon as her hand stroked it. Cinderella saw Mary hold it straight up as her fingers curled around the shaft and began to stroke it up and down. Then, her other hand slid over the helmet of his prick and ran a finger on the tip. When she pulled it back, wetness pulled away and stretched for inches before it broke. She rubbed the wetness on her finger over the head of his prick until it glistened. Had she coaxed out those drops on purpose?

“My balls, grasp my balls gently.”

Cinderella saw Mary grip him between his legs, in the thatch of thick hair as her fingers gripped onto something, but she couldn’t see what it was, but Jeffrey’s hips rose up in pleasure as Mary used both hands to stroke and grasp him. Her hands moved rhythmically. What is between his legs that bring him so much pleasure?

“Is this what you want, Jeffrey?”

Cinderella saw Mary tease him with her hands. Then, Jeffrey grabbed her breast and that shocked Mary for a second.

“What are you doing?” She stopped stroking his prick when he grabbed her so rudely.

“Let me see your bosom when I cum?”

Cinderella expected Mary to stop and push him away after such a vulgar request, but Cinderella was surprised by Mary’s response.

“Okay, but give me your handkerchief. I don’t want a mess.” While he reached into his trouser pocket to get it, she put her hand into her bosom and pulled out one of her breasts as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Cinderella could barely breathe as she watched the two of them in this obscene act. Jeffrey fondled her bare breast, and Cinderella saw how Mary’s nipple grew hard, just as her own did now. Mary’s hands stroked and gripped him, with the handkerchief nearby. Cinderella knew that men shot out their seed, but she’d never seen such a thing before. She thought it was always inside a woman. That is why it is his seed.

Cinderella watched the end of his prick, the spot where it dripped before. Mary’s hand stroked him faster, long, broad strokes up and down the shaft. Cinderella noticed that Mary’s fingers tightened as it passed over the thick ridge around the helmet of his prick and that inspired him to leak out more of his juices. His face grew tighter and red and his breathing picked up. He moaned louder, and Cinderella knew it would be soon. But, Mary disappointed Cinderella. At the point where he cried out and his body went rigid, she threw the handkerchief over his prick. Cinderella saw it grow wet with a thick stain as Mary continued to stroke him. Her other hand between his legs moved rapidly as though she were milking a cow. Then, she smelled it. It was an unfamiliar smell that had to be his seed.

Finally, Mary stopped and handed the wet handkerchief to him as she pulled her hands away. Cinderella snuck away silently and went to her room. She didn’t sleep well that night, too many dreams, and each time she woke up, her hands were between her legs.

* * * *

“Cinderella, you ugly cow, get my coffee. How come you’re so slow today? Are you feeble?” Lady Browning was short with Cinderella today. Ever since they moved, she’d become moody and unresponsive.

Cinderella rushed to the kitchen to get her coffee and brought it back. She sat it down, and Lady Browning snarled at her.

“Get out, the girls will be down in a minute and they’ll want their breakfast. Don’t make them wait.”

Cinderella rushed to cook their breakfast, and before she was finished, they were yelling from the dining room. She rushed in with their food and coffee.

“Empty my chamber pot,” Elizabet shouted out to Cinderella.

“I need my yellow dress cleaned and ironed before dinner, Cinderella. And do a good job.” Mary’s orders rang out.

They ignored Cinderella as they talked among themselves. “How was Jeffrey, Mary?” Lady Browning asked her. He was a handsome beau and would be a good catch if Mary couldn’t get Prince Michael interested in her.

“He’s fine, Mother. He’s interested in me, but I left him dangling on a string.” She sought approval from her mother. She’d been with Jeffrey on and off for over a year.

“I have great news for all of us. The king is having a grand ball in honor of his son, Prince Michael. We’ve been noticed since we moved in. We have invitations to it.”

Elizabet and Mary almost danced in glee. Their mother had promised them a chance at meeting Prince Michael. That was their reason for moving here. They both held off getting serious with any other man, neither one would give up the chance to be a princess and eventually become the queen.

“When, when is it?” Elizabet was breathless.

“In two weeks.”

“Tomorrow, we’ll go into town and find the finest seamstress to make us all new dresses. The prince will see the most beautiful women he has ever seen that night. The prince will have to choose between the two of you,” Lady Browning boasted.

“It’ll be me,” Elizabet boasted.

“No, it’ll be me. I’ll enchant him with my beauty and intellect,” Mary wasn’t to be outdone.

* * * *

During the next two weeks, the stepdaughters drove Cinderella crazy with their demands, even more than usual. Cinderella didn’t have a minute alone for herself, always doing something for them as they got ready for the ball.

Cinderella saw their dresses, the finest that she’d ever seen before. Even the threads that stitched them were gold. They were long and flowing, and the shoes to match were made of the finest leather and graced with precious stones. Their corsets were made of silk as if they were made to be seen. As much as she was jealous of them, she wished them no ill will. “Let me fix your hair for the ball. It’ll look like spun silk when I’m finished.”

“Are you sure you can do it, Cinderella? I don’t want anything to spoil their night at the ball.” Lady Browning was cautious, but she’d seen the magic she had worked on their hair before. And she worked diligently on both girls hair each night for years now.

As much as she hated the way the three of them treated her, she knew that she had to live with them and anything that she did for them would make her life easier. One day she’d be rid of them, and it was at that time she could get her revenge for their treatment of her. “Yes, you’ll be the belle of the ball.”

* * * *

It was a mad house the day of the ball. Cinderella was driven crazy by the three of them and their frantic requests. They started early in the morning without any let up. First, she had to draw three baths for them with the finest perfumes and bubbles and lots of hot water. Each one wanted her attention at the same time.

The good thing was no one ate lunch, none dared to or else they might not fit into their dresses. The best part was helping them with their corsets, especially Elizabet. She was always eating too much, and the corsets grew tighter, more stringent.

“Hold still while I tighten it.” Cinderella pushed on her back as she drew each of the strings back until they were tight, but it still wasn’t enough. “Take a breath and hold it in,” she warned her as she tugged with all her might.

Elizabet couldn’t breathe, unable to fill her lungs as the corset tightened around her middle, but when she saw the way her proud breasts pushed up so defiantly, she knew it was worth it. “More,” she urged Cinderella.

Cinderella tightened the strings around her waist and hips and drew them in tight. She put a knee on her lower back to get leverage and grunted as she tightened it.

Elizabet was frantic as her body was entombed in the corset, but she couldn’t deny the way it drew her body into a perfect hourglass figure. Prince Michael wouldn’t be able to draw his eyes away from her. “Yes, yes,” she cried out in pleasure.

Elizabet finally got to put on the dress, and she was impressed at how she looked. There would be no doubt that she’d be the belle of the ball. She could barely sit down so Cinderella could put on her shoes. “My hair, do my hair now.”

“I’ll be back. I have to help the others get their dresses on. It won’t take long.” Cinderella rushed off to help Mary and Lady Browning. Mary’s corset was almost as tight, and Cinderella made sure that it was stringent. She helped her into her dress, and Mary looked pleased at her reflection. Lady Browning was last, her corset not as tight, but she didn’t have the youthful figure or looks of her daughters. “You look magnificent, M’lady. Prince Michael will choose you, not Elizabet or Mary,” she teased her.

“You think so,” as she gazed into the mirror. She still had a striking figure and great looks. I could make the prince’s heart my own.

The carriage arrived, the finest that Lady Browning could hire. It had a driver as well as footman and was drawn by four white horses, dressed in all their finery including headsets of feathers. The women flitted around as Cinderella finished up all the last details. Their hair was her finest work, but none of them uttered a word of praise. Cinderella watched as the carriage left, her work done until they came home late at night and she’d have to help them off with their clothes. She went to her room and lay on the bed.





Chapter 2





Transformed


Cinderella began to cry as if a dam had burst. It felt like her whole life was falling apart when she saw Lady Browning and her daughters attend the ball while she slaved away for them. She saw no future for her, only despair.

Startled, she looked up and heard it again. There was a faint tapping coming from the kitchen. She was scared, home alone in the house. She slowly crept into the dark kitchen and heard the tapping again. It came from the back door. Through the window, she saw a man stand there. He was older and looked like a beggar from the look of his shabby clothes. She’d never turn down a person that was down in their luck. She went to the door, braver than she expected she’d be. She opened it just an inch. “Can I help you?”

“Can you help a man out? I haven’t eaten for two days.”

“I don’t have much, but you’re welcome to share my meager dinner.” It was still on the stove where she left it. In her despair, she’d forgotten it. He sat down next to the fire, and she could see him better. He wasn’t as old as she thought, about the age of her father when he died. But the minute she put a plate in front of him, he bent over and began to shovel the food into his mouth without taking a breath. He hardly seemed threatening, and he was starving.

She sat in front of her plate, but she only pushed her food around. It wasn’t long before he finished. “Would you like some more?”

“I won’t take your meal, M’lady.”

She pushed her plate over to him. “No, you take it, I’m not hungry.” He began to shovel in the second plate of food with the same gusto as the first. When he finished, he finally looked satisfied.

His belly was finally filled. “Thank you, M’lady. That was the finest feast I’ve had in months.”

“What is your name?”

“Straparola. Your eyes are red, and you have tears that stain your satiny skin. What makes you so sad?”

She suddenly spilled her guts as if he was her closest friend. The ball that she thought nothing of, all of a sudden became so important to her life, though she didn’t know why. “My stepmother and my stepsisters all went to the prince’s ball, but I am left home. I have no fine clothes to wear or a way to get there.” She began to cry once again.

“I can help you.”

She looked up at him, a harmless beggar. “How can you help me, you don’t look much better off than I am?”

“You’re much more beautiful than I am. You’ll go or my name isn’t Straparola, your godfather.”

Cinderella had heard tales of fairy godmothers but never a godfather that protected those that couldn’t help themselves. “I didn’t know I had a godfather.”

“Ever since your mother died, I’ve looked out for you. With the death of your father, I knew you’d need me soon enough. I’m here for you now.”

Could this man be what I need to get out of my despair? She needed any kind of help she could get. She’d give him a chance. “Go ahead, do your magic.” She didn’t expect much.

Straparola looked around the room until he saw what he needed. “Grab that apple, the big one. Take it to the front driveway and place it in the center.” She watched as he walked through the house as if he knew where he was going. He went out the front door but not before he stooped down low near the pantry and scooped up something in his hands.

She looked as he pulled what looked like a wand from his worn pocket, but it could just as well be a stick he found in the woods. He released what he had in his hand, and she saw six large cockroaches on the ground, but they didn’t run away. They stood next to the apple.

“Stand back,” he warned her. He tapped his wand on the apple then on the six black cockroaches. There was a whoosh, and a rush of a white mist rose up.

When the mist cleared, Cinderella was surprised. It was the finest carriage she ever saw, painted silver. Hooked up to it were six black steeds, shiny and muscular as though they were the finest horses in the country. Am I dreaming? “Whaattt—” but she was cut short.

“Wait for me. Don’t let the horses run off.” He disappeared into the barn.

He was back in a minute; the horses snorting as they sought to run and stretch their lean muscles. She held the reins as though she knew what she was doing. When he came back, he held two rats, big and powerful, but he cradled them in his hands as if they were pets. He put them down, and he tapped his wand on them. The mist rose up, and when it cleared, there stood two large, distinguished men in black attire of the finest cloth. One held a whip.

“Your driver and your footman are here to serve you. You’re ready now.”

She looked down, still in her drab and dirty dress. “I can’t go like this.”

Straparola looked confused for a moment. “Oopps, I forgot. Let’s go inside before we catch a cold.” He turned to the driver. “We’ll be out soon.”

He asked her to show him her room. She was ashamed it was so small and cramped. He went through her dresser and brought out another dress, at least this one was clean. In his hands, he held her undergarment, but he had an uncomfortable look on his face as if he shouldn’t be touching her unmentionables.

He turned his back. “Put them on.” He heard the rustling of clothes, and then, she spoke.

“Ready.”

He turned and looked at her as her beauty began to shine through. It took three swipes of his wand. One was on the top of her head, once on her shoulder and then finally at her waist. The mist was thicker this time. When it cleared, there was a full-length mirror in front of her. He saw the shocked look on her face when she saw herself.

It couldn’t be her, looking at the reflection that shined back from the mirror. She wore a gown that was encrusted with jewels and was sewn with thread made of gold. It clung to her body like a second skin. Her hair was piled on top of her head in the most gorgeous coiffure she’d ever seen. She couldn’t even do it that way. It was topped with a diamond-encrusted tiara. She could feel her undergarments beneath the dress, so silky and smooth. He’d really done it. She was speechless.

Straparola waited until she could gather her senses. He saw the look of awe in her eyes. She was every bit as beautiful as he knew she would be.

“I don’t recognize me.” She still couldn’t believe it. She never expected she’d look like this. After all the years of her stepmother and stepsisters telling her how ugly she was, she began to believe them. Now, she knew they were wrong and spiteful.

He looked down and saw that he wasn’t finished. Her feet were bare, but that was on purpose. He took her crumpled, worn slippers and tapped the wand on them. When the mist cleared, the finest pair of glass shoes was before him. They had high heels, over three inches and had two straps that would encase her ankles tightly. She went to take them from him, but he pulled them back. “One last thing.”

Not only were the glass shoes in his hand, but he’d changed. He was no longer dirty and unkempt. His suit was immaculate, and his shirt white and starched. He no longer looked old, but he was still older, like her father was. She reached for the shoes, but he pulled them away.

“Sit down and let me take care of you.”

She sat down on the chair and felt his hands on her ankles. It should feel uncomfortable for a strange man to touch her with so much familiarly, but it wasn’t. It was as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. His hands were soft, not calloused, and they felt like they caressed her feet. He lifted up both of her feet and put them in his lap. He scooted forward, and then, she felt it. There was no mistaking it. That should have warned her or made her scared, but it didn’t. Her feet were on top of his prick, and he was hard. She’d seen Mary with her beau when she stroked him, but she’d never felt a prick before. She felt it move beneath her feet. Did I do that?

“I thought you might want to thank your fairy godfather.” He couldn’t control his prick. The slightest movement of her feet made it jump in such excitement.

His prick moved more. “I don’t know what you want?” She was nervous and excited at the same time. She wanted to go to the ball, but she was beholden to Straparola. Without his help, she’d still be crying in her room in her rags. Instead, she was dressed like a princess and had a carriage ready to take her in style.

His fingers moved on her naked toes, and his prick stirred as he began to move her feet gently back and forth across his prick. “I’m here to guide you in all your endeavors, Cinderella.” He’d get his pleasure with her help.

He moved her feet more but slowly and gently over the increasing bulge in his trousers. It felt like a wild animal was trapped beneath her feet, jerking uncontrollably, only restrained by his trousers. She had an idea of what he wanted. He spread his legs wider and pulled back. He lowered her feet until they were on the chair he sat on, but her feet were between his legs.

“Wiggle your toes and move your feet.”

She didn’t have to be told what he wanted, the same thing Mary’s beau wanted with her hands. It was odd that he wanted her to caress his prick with her toes and feet, but she wouldn’t deny him his pleasure, no matter that it was a bit shameful. She began to wiggle her toes and soon found his prick. It was so hard and thick, and the slightest touch of her toes made it jump. She watched her toes as if someone else moved them. They curled and tried to grip the thick shaft. His prick was elusive, always moving as if it tried to get away. She began to use both of her feet to trap it then curled her toes around it. It felt so powerful beneath her toes. Then, she did something she never expected she’d do. Her toes slid down lower between his legs. She sought out the same thing that Mary did with her other hand. Cinderella wanted to see what made him so excited. He gasped when her toes pushed into something, wiggling them until she could feel something floating around, moving away elusively from her toes. She continued to chase it and found there were two of them. They were round and floated between his legs. She still didn’t know what they were, but if she pushed too hard and trapped them beneath her feet, he moaned louder, almost as if he were in pain.

Her questing toes sought out his balls, exploring them with such innocence. She pushed too hard, and his stomach ached, but he couldn’t deny the pleasure he felt. Then, she moved one foot up to his prick while the other continued to chase his balls. Her feet began to move more vigorously. She rubbed his prick with such skill, as if it were her hands. He watched her feet move as he felt the gentle, urgent rubbing on his prick.

She could see the look of pleasure spread across his face as she rubbed him. She began to feel something. Is it pleasure that I feel from giving him pleasure? He put his hand on her feet and lifted them up from his lap. She thought she’d done something wrong and he no longer enjoyed her touch. Then, his other hand went to his belt and opened it. His hands went to the buttons on his trousers, and he opened them slowly, one by one. She couldn’t take her eyes off of the front of his pants. She saw his undershorts revealed, but then, he lifted his butt off the chair and moved her feet higher. She knew why as he slowly pushed his trousers down with one hand. It was difficult, but he soon succeeded. His undershorts bulged up from his hard prick beneath it. There was a drop of wetness on his shorts. She knew her toes had done that just as Mary’s hands had done it to her beau’s prick. She was ready when he lowered her feet onto his lap again.

Cinderella’s toes curled around his prick as she trapped it between both of her feet. Her toes moved as they caressed his prick, and he couldn’t contain the drops of precum that she urged out. She explored all of his prick and now lower between his legs.

She could feel what was between his legs now. It was a soft bag, but inside were the two elusive balls. When she pushed too hard on them, he moaned louder, more in pain than pleasure. They must be fragile, so she tried to be careful, yet her curiosity got the best of her. His undershorts grew wetter, and she saw the look on his face. He grew excited. His prick felt like it grew bigger. How big could it get?

They were both silent except for his moans and groans. He didn’t want to spoil the moment with words, not until he got his final pleasure, and it would have to be soon. He couldn’t last much longer. It had been a long time since he had a woman give him his pleasure, but he knew he’d have more from Cinderella. She had big dreams, and they would cost her. He hoped that she’d be willing to pay the price he’d extract from her.

Her feet were grabbed in his eager hands once again, and Cinderella grew excited. She knew he’d reveal his prick to her. He wanted to feel her toes on it. She’d get her first glimpse up close and personal to a man’s prick and the mysterious bag between his legs. There’d be no handkerchief to hide his pleasure when he came. She’d see him spew his seed, and she was sure she’d feel it on her feet.

It didn’t take him long to strip down his undershorts. His prick stood up like a giant spear, as if it were trying to reach for her toes. He let her feet down until they were on both sides of his prick and then released them. He waited patiently, but the minute his hands left her feet, they began to move. He saw the look in her eyes as they twinkled with such innocence and excitement the minute her naked feet touched his excited prick.

His prick was so hot and hard when she touched it. She had a difficult time trapping it, so excited from her touch. She couldn’t take her eyes off his prick as her toes made it stand up tall. The head was smooth, but it glistened from his leaking juices. When she moved her toes on his prick, tiny drops leaked out of the head. Her toes crept up to the ridge that surrounded the thicker, smooth head. She pushed up, extending his prick higher into the air as if she made it grow longer. She could see the loose skin on the shaft stretch and the thick veins pulsated with his throbbing blood. She wiggled her toes all around the hot flesh as she moved her feet back and forth to stroke it. She’d expected that it would be difficult to do, but she learned quickly, and her feet and toes moved just as her hands and fingers would. Then, her toes moved down between his legs. He spread his legs wider, and she could see the heavy bag hang down between his legs like a sack of potatoes. The bag was covered in thick, black, wiry hair. When her toes touched it, it was like an empty bag. She found the elusive balls that slid so easily inside. It was a game as her toes chased them around until she could trap them.

“Yes, pleasure me, Cinderella.” He finally broke the silence. He was too far gone to stop, even if she wanted to.

Her toes moved aggressively, stroking his prick while her other foot prodded and poked at the sack between his legs. She got his lower body moving. She’d seen Mary’s beau’s face when he got his pleasure, just the way Straparola’s face was now. She moved faster as his prick swelled beneath her feet.

“AAAWWWW!” Straparola cried out in pleasure as her toes chased the cum from his balls. He could feel her toes milk his shaft as the cum raced out.

She knew it would happen but didn’t expect it like this. It was as if his prick was a volcano. The head of it erupted. Thick white crème shot up into the air, and then, the sheer volume of it dragged it back down until it fell over her toes. It was so hot, like molten lava, but her toes never deserted its task. She knew he wasn’t finished. She rubbed his prick until it erupted again, this time not as high but just as profuse. The thick white crème ran slowly down her toes, but it made her toes slippery, and she could caress his prick easier.

It felt like he hadn’t cum for years, his balls drained of his cum by her expert toes. She never looked away as he came on her feet, nor pulled her feet away. She continued to rub him as he shot two more times, not as profuse but just as pleasurable. She learned quickly, stroking slowly as he finished, but she didn’t move her feet away. Without pulling up his pants, he leaned forward and grabbed her glass shoes. He placed them gently on each of her feet. They slid in easily, her feet still coated in his slippery seed. She didn’t protest, too excited at what she’d done and what she had to look forward to. Only when he put her feet on the ground did he pull up his pants. “Enjoy the ball, Cinderella. But, don’t forget. You have to be home by midnight. If you’re not, your carriage, horses, horsemen and your clothes will turn back to what they were.”

She was off to the ball.





Chapter 3





The Prince Meets a Princess


Cinderella felt so elegant when the footman held open the door to the silver carriage. The black horses snarled as they fought to be free and run. The seats inside were red velvet plush with the shades drawn to keep out the chill. As soon as the footman closed the door, she raised the shade. She wanted to see and be seen by all. She was thrown back in the seat as the horses were let loose and charged down the road at a gallop. The road was bumpy, but it had been a long time since Cinderella rode in a carriage, never mind one this fine.

It wasn’t long before they came to the gate of the prince’s castle. It was lit with candles, as the lights flickered off the flowers that surrounded the black iron gate. The carriage pulled up in front of the castle, the line of carriages in front of them quickly exited. The footman held the door open as Cinderella stepped out, balancing precariously on the four-inch heels until she could get used to them.

The front of the castle was lit up with torches, and flowers were everywhere, softening the harsh glow of the torches. Cinderella never saw so many elegantly dressed men and women, all in their finery, all had masks to cover their eyes. The masks were so elaborate some crusted in jewels. Cinderella felt safe behind her silver mask; sure that no one would recognize her.

It was as though she was a queen as she walked down the red carpet and entered the grand ballroom. An orchestra played a soft, slow waltz as the cut-glass chandeliers twinkled from the hundreds of candles that lit them. It took only minutes before a man appeared in front of her, taking her hand and kissing it gently.

“You are the loveliest creature at his ball, M’lady.” Lord Blankford bowed graciously.

“You are most kind, Sir,” Cinderella tried to learn to take compliments after so many years of being told she was ugly and dimwitted.

“I’m Lord Blankford; what may I call you besides beautiful?”

She had to think quickly. “Ella.”

“Ella, as short as it is fitting your beauty. May I have this dance?”

“I’m not sure I’m a good dancer, Lord Blankford.” He was a much older man, distinguished and handsome nonetheless. He wore a crisp white tuxedo and was fit and slim. His long black hair was slicked back, and he smelled of expensive cologne. She saw no ring on his finger, but aristocratic men were known to be deceivers with wives that looked the other way to their philandering ways.

He took her hand and led her off to the dance floor without responding. His firm grip enclosed her waist as he pulled her gently against him. Before she could say a word in protest, they were gliding across the floor as if they were one. He took her breath away as he took possession of her as though they’d known each other for years. He began to draw her closer until she felt his body press up against hers. She never felt anything like it before, a man pressed up against her body as if they fit together perfectly.

It was as if her feet weren’t connected to her brain. They glided along the floor without so much as a thought, for all of Cinderella’s thoughts were consumed by the feel of a man pressed against hers. All of her sexual fantasies came alive in her head, and she couldn’t stop the arousal that flooded her body. Her naked body was enclosed in soft silk undergarments that caressed her body as she hoped a man would do. Her nipples sprang to such hardness that they ached beneath her dress. She felt ripples of excitement between her thighs that only her fingers had been able to extinguish.

“Your body glides so confidently, Ella, yet I’ve never seen you before. Where have you been hidden?” He could feel her firm breasts push into his chest as his hand slid a bit lower, down to her upper hip without being too bold.

“I’ve always been here, Lord Blankford, you’ve just never seen me,” she teased him.

“Call me James.” He twirled her to the music.

Prince Michael was inundated with fine women the minute he walked into the ballroom, but that was the purpose of this ball. He hoped to find the right woman that would inspire him in life but also in his boudoir. Like all aristocrats, he had special tastes, and he wouldn’t give them up for any woman.

Lady Browning tore through the ballroom with Elizabet and Mary in tow as soon as she saw Prince Michael. She pushed her way to the front until she came to Prince Michael. She’d never seen him in person, but she’d heard the descriptions of him, but none could adequately describe him. He was tall, with dark brown hair, a slim body, but he had a firm chest and muscular arms. She looked down to see his thighs were just as muscular as his arms, and she couldn’t draw her eyes from the bulge in his trousers, sure they were cut to show his manhood in its best manner. If I were only a few years younger, I’d seduce him.

Michael hated when mothers dragged their daughters in tow to meet him as if they were the most beautiful women in the room. It they were, he’d be drawn to them, not the other way around.

“Your Highness,” Lady Browning curtsied. “May I introduce my two beautiful daughters, Elizabet and Mary?”

Michael tried to be polite; after all, they were his subjects. “It’s good to meet you, Lady Browning.” He turned to the two daughters. “Elizabet,” he bowed as he gazed at her body. She was tall and a bit plump. “Mary,” now she was more to his liking, but not to marry, just to bed. He wanted to ask if she were a virgin for that would truly inspire his interest.

“Would you like to dance with either of them, Prince Michael,” Lady Browning boldly asked.

Without so much as a hesitation, he said, “Lord Blankford is just finishing up dancing with my next partner.” He’d looked around quickly to find the excuse he needed, but he didn’t expect to find such beauty. “Excuse me.” He walked over to Lord Blankford and left Lady Browning without another word.

Lady Browning huffed and puffed. “You shouldn’t have eaten so much the last couple of days, Elizabet,” she blamed her. She turned to Mary. “Couldn’t you say something to him?” She dragged them away as she looked at the woman he rushed off to find. She’d never seen her before, but she couldn’t deny her beauty, and she dressed as though she spent days getting ready.

From afar, Lord Hubert Storr watched what happened with Prince Michael and Lady Browning. He’d watched her since she arrived with her two daughters, but it was Mary that caught his eye. She had a mischievous walk and twinkle in her eye, but she was the younger of Lady Browning’s two daughters. From what he ascertained from the young men she entertained, she was chaste, though she did have an innate ability to keep the men interested and satisfied.

Lady Browning felt a hand on her arm and turned to see a charming gentleman next to her. He was dressed in a black tuxedo that was sculptured to his body. His brown hair was slicked back, a small beard covered his face but it was trimmed meticulously. She looked at the firm hand that touched her with such gentleness.

“Excuse me, Lady Browning, I’m Lord Hubert Storr. I couldn’t help but notice you and your lovely daughters. You’re so young to have such grown women.”

“Why thank you for the generous compliment.” Have I found a beau for me in this stylish gentleman? “These are my daughters, Elizabet and Mary.”

He took Elizabet’s hand and kissed it and did the same to Mary, but his hand lingered on hers after the kiss of her soft hand. “No one rivals you, Mary. The prince is a fool not to see that.” He looked into her eyes with a deep gaze.

Mary never had a man touch her like this one. All her other beaus were young men that were easily controlled by her charm, but Lord Storr was much older, in his late forties if she were correct, twice her age. He was rich and dominating in his personality, and he looked at her with a stare that scared her or excited her, not sure which. “Thank you, Lord Storr; you make me blush with your compliment.”

“Might I have a dance with Mary, Lady Browning?”

“But of course, she’d be honored.”

Mary had no say in it, but she would’ve accepted if she were asked. Lord Storr took her out, and he pulled her up against him as though they were lovers. He was an exceptional dancer, not like the awkward beaus she’d dated. It was as though his body moved in tune with the music as she struggled to keep up with his grace. He began to talk to her, asking her questions about herself, and she surprised herself by opening up to him. She felt comfortable with him.

They had punch between dances, but he never let her out of his sight. He monopolized her, but at least it kept her away from her mother’s wrath and anger over Prince Michael. She never expected to feel this way about an older man, but she couldn’t deny that he knew the way to charm a woman. It was this reason she found comfort in his hands. He thought of her as a woman. As they danced, his hand around her waist began to take liberties, just as her young beaus had tried before. His hand slid from her waist to over the gentle swell of her buttock. She didn’t do anything, but as they moved to the dark side of the dance floor, he grew bolder, and soon, his hand curled around her buttock with such conviction. She reached back and pulled his hand up to her waist. What happened next surprised her. His hand slid back down and cupped her buttock. She moved her hand down once again to remove it, but this time, he didn’t budge. In fact, his fingers clenched deeper into her buttock and pulled her closer to him. Then, she felt his erection move against her mound, jumping in excitement as he clenched her buttock. She should slap his face, but she did nothing, moving her hand back up as he continued to press his erection against her mound and take liberties with her buttock.

He took her onto the balcony after the music stopped. He could see the way her chest heaved as she struggled to fill her lungs. As they stood on the balcony overlooking the valley, he turned her toward him. His hand went under her chin softly and tilted her head back. “I’m going to kiss you, Mary.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact.

Her mouth was only inches from his, and she could feel his warm breath blow on her lips. His body was pressed up close to hers, and his hand took possession of her chin to pose her lips for his kiss. She couldn’t say a word in protest as his lips touched hers with such softness, not like the urgent kisses of the young men that were eager for much more. His wet lips touched hers, and then, she felt the gentle probing of his wet tongue in her mouth. The penetration of her mouth shocked her, but it explored with such gentleness, and she soon found her tongue reach out to touch his as if he ordered her to obey. The kiss grew long and passionate, his mouth pushed harder against hers, and soon, his rock-hard prick rubbed her mound to make her shiver with fear. She feared that she liked it too much.

She kissed him back passionately when her tongue dueled with his. He felt her lower body rub his prick, making it quiver with excitement. His hand slid up her waist and he felt her lips quiver and her body shake as she realized what he would do, yet her hand was around his waist and the other behind his neck when he found the soft swell of her young, firm breast with his hand.

She couldn’t stop the wetness between her legs as his prick rubbed her quim and his hand fondled her breast. His finger played over her naked cleavage, and her nipples swelled in anticipation. She couldn’t stop her body from surrendering.

After he broke the kiss, he held her trembling body next to his. She couldn’t control her emotions, and he liked that. He nuzzled her soft neck with his lips, and her nipples pushed prominently out the front of her dress, unable to hide the hard tips. The light dusting of his fingertips across the hard nubs made her gasp in pleasure.

She was putty in his arms. She was glad that the ball would soon be over, not sure she could contain her body any longer from his command. Her quim was soaked, and his slightest touch of her body sent shivers of impending orgasm racing through her body. She didn’t understand the way she surrendered to his touch and feared what would happen.

Hubert brought Mary back to Lady Browning. “I hope I didn’t monopolize Mary’s evening, but I couldn’t stay away from her.” He turned to Mary and took her hand. He kissed her soft flesh with his wet lips. “Good night, Mary. I will see you again.”

“Thank you, Lord Storr. I’ve never had such an evening before.” She shivered until he released her hand. She watched him walk away.

“He’s too old for you, Mary,” Elizabet grumbled.

“Nonsense, Elizabet. An older man could teach either of you the pleasures that only experience brings. He’s handsome, rich and experienced. What else would you look for in a partner?” Lady Browning needed money to continue in the life style she grew accustomed to. It proved more difficult every year to find a man for herself. It was time that one of her daughters provided for her instead of the other way around. So far, it didn’t look like Prince Michael had an interest in either of her daughters, but Lord Storr seemed enamored with Mary. She would check on his credentials tomorrow. With her help, Lord Storr could guide her into the right decision.

Cinderella couldn’t breathe when she saw him, followed by an entourage. It had to be him. She turned to see who was behind her that he was headed for but was surprised when there was no one but her.

When Michael left Lady Browning standing there, he stood in front of the woman as his eyes took in her beauty. From her hair piled on her head to her full breasts pushed up so proudly and the white bosom that was revealed, a simple gold cross hung between them that guided his eyes to the deep valley. She had full, womanly hips and a nice ass that was sculptured in the dress, and her feet were perched on high glass slippers with bands around her ankles as if they were bound. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Lord Blankford?”

James bowed to the prince. “Prince Michael, may I introduce Ella.”

Michael took her soft hand and kissed it gently. He drew his lips from it but held her hand. “How is that I haven’t met the most beautiful woman in my kingdom before?”

“You just have, Prince Michael,” she boldly said. She felt him hold her hand as she tried to contain the shiver that ran through her body. Lady Browning had spoken so much about the prince and her desire to have one of her daughters marry him, but Cinderella saw him abandon them so abruptly, and from the look on Lady Browning’s face, she wasn’t happy. Cinderella had to hold back the smirk on her face.

Michael waved to the orchestra, and they began to play. “You must dance with me, Ella.”

“I would love to, Prince Michael, I hope you can keep up,” she said smartly, her confidence in dancing greatly improved.

Michael loved a woman with a bit of reluctance yet confident. “I’ll try, Ella.” He scooped her up around the waist and swung her onto the dance floor. He heard her take in a deep breath as he took charge of her. He drew her body to his instantly and couldn’t contain his growing erection when he pushed into her soft body.

Her body molded to his as Lord Blankford did, but Prince Michael was bolder. There was no doubt of his growing excitement with her. She’d only felt the hardness of a man for the first time that night; now, it was another that shuddered beneath her touch. My toes had curled around Straparola’s prick, but what would it feel like if it were my fingers that did it to Prince Michael?

Cinderella blushed as everyone looked at them glide across the dance floor. All the women looked at him with lust, but it was the men that stared boldly at her. No man had ever looked at her with such desire in their eyes.

Michael wouldn’t let her go when the music stopped, and he brought her over to his table. Everyone was surprised by Ella, not a man or woman knew her. It was as if she appeared by some magic.

Cinderella ate a lavish dinner with the prince. He refused to let her go. She drank too much champagne, unaccustomed to any alcohol, never mind one with bubbles in it. She was so entertained by him that she forgot all about the time. She looked at the clock, fifteen minutes before midnight.

“I’ve enjoyed myself, Prince Michael, but I must leave.”

“Please don’t,” he begged her.

“I must.”

“Then, will you join me next week. I have a select group of friends that meet once a month.”

“And what do you do?”

“They all seek the pleasures of life. It is men and women, all aristocrats like you. They’d love for you to join them.”

There was something that he wasn’t telling her. “What is your group called?”

“It’s the Hellfire Club.”

“And what pleasures do they seek? Is it depraved pleasures that the members seek?”

“One man’s depravity is another man’s pleasure. All the members bring in special guests.”

“Am I a special guest?”

“No, you’ll be a member like the others.”

“I will come under one condition.” She had to hurry as time ran out.

“Anything you desire, Ella.”

“I want you to invite Elizabet, Lady Browning’s daughter.”

“Is she a friend of yours?”

“No,” Ella answered quickly.

“As you wish. I’ll have a carriage pick you up.”

“No, I’ll come in my carriage.” She wanted to be able to leave without notice if she had to. She wasn’t sure what the Hellfire Club was, but she had no doubt that Straparola would enlighten her. “I must go,” she said breathlessly. He leaned over and kissed her lips so softly. She froze, but she realized that she’d have problems that she couldn’t explain if she stayed any longer, though that is what she wanted to do. “Good night, Prince Michael.” She turned and ran from the ballroom.

She got into the carriage and was outside the gates when it all went up in a puff of smoke. When it cleared, she was seated on the cold ground in her thread-bare dress. She had to walk miles to get home, but everyone was asleep as she snuck into her tiny room next to the kitchen. She could hardly sleep that night.

* * * *

Cinderella got up early because she knew that Lady Browning would be in a bad mood from last night when she was rebuffed by Prince Michael. She had coffee ready before she came down and started breakfast as soon as she heard footsteps.

“Where’s my coffee,” Lady Browning yelled out before she sat down.

“Here it is, Lady Browning.” She put the hot coffee in front of her. “Breakfast is almost ready,” stopping her before she could complain.

“HHummph!” Lady Browning still snarled at her, but the breakfast smelled good.

Cinderella rushed to the kitchen, and she brought the three dishes to the table as Elizabet and Mary sat down. “Did you have a good time at the ball last night?” She struggled not to smirk when she said it.

“Of course, we did. Prince Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off Mary and Elizabet. His only problem is deciding which one he’d wed,” Lady Browning snarled loudly.

“I heard he’s a handsome man.”

“You heard correctly; now back to the kitchen and no more idle chatter from you.” She turned to Elizabet when Cinderella left the dining room. “Don’t you dare eat that bacon, you fat cow. No wonder the prince wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

* * * *

It was Lady Browning that answered the door that afternoon, but Cinderella snuck to the living room door so she could hear.

“Can I help you?” There was a coachman at the door with an envelope in his hand. She could see the red wax seal on it.

“I have an invitation for Lady Elizabet Browning from Prince Michael,” he said curtly.

“I’ll take it.”

“I must give it directly to her. Is she here?”

“Yes, yes, if you insist. Wait here,” as she grumbled and stormed off, yet she felt proud that Elizabet got an invitation from Prince Michael. Maybe he noticed her after all.

“Elizabet, come quickly. There’s a coachman with an invitation for you from Prince Michael.”

“For me?” Elizabet was surprised, especially after the way her mother treated her.

“Yes, what do you think I said? Come on now.” She was anxious to read it and the stupid coachman refused to give it to her.

“I’m Lady Elizabet Browning.” The coachman stood there so majestically, representing Prince Michael.

“Here, Lady Browning,” as he handed her the envelope and waited.

“Thank you.” She saw that he stood there. “You may go.”

“I’ve been instructed to wait for a replay. Prince Michael is anxious.”

“Open it, Elizabet,” Lady Browning was dying of curiosity.

She opened the dark blue envelope as she broke the red wax seal. Inside was an elegant card inscribed with gold. It was an invitation from Prince Michael to a special party next Monday night. A carriage would pick her up at seven. Dress was eloquent but fashionable. RSVP required. She looked at the coachman. “Tell Prince Michael I appreciate the invitation and I’d be delighted to attend.”

Lady Browning snatched the card as the coachman left. She read it quickly. She turned to Elizabet. “How come he didn’t invite Mary or me?”

“It’s only for me,” as she took back the invitation so she could save it forever in her chest. “I guess Prince Michael doesn’t see me as a fat hog.” It was the first time she ever talked back to her mother, but she deserved it.

“I’ll have to find something fashionable for you to wear.” She hated to admit it, but she was proud of Elizabet. Prince Michael had done more than take notice of her.

* * * *

Every night after everyone was asleep; Cinderella would sneak of the house and go to the barn. She closed the door behind her and lit a single lamp. “Straparola.” She called out his name. She had a small dish of food with her to feed his hunger before she’d ask her favor. ” Straparola, Straparola.”

It was Friday and she grew desperate. Has my fairy godfather deserted me? All she could think about was Prince Michael, and her dreams grew more vivid, more sexual, yet she didn’t understand what he’d told her of his special parties. She needed Straparola to explain it. She also needed clothes and the carriage. She couldn’t let Prince Michael see her as she was.

“Straparola, Straparola.”

She never heard the door creek or open, but the wind blew on the lantern, and when she looked up, he stood there in front of her. There stood the shaggily dressed beggar.

“You called me, Cinderella?” He saw the plate of food she had next to her. “Is that for me? I’m starving.”

“Yes,” she handed it to him, and he took it and it was only minutes before he finished it all with a deep belch. “Thank you for coming when I called you. I was worried; you didn’t answer me for the last few days and I grew desperate.”

“Thank you for the food. Why were you desperate, you have until Monday?”

“How do you know?” He couldn’t know that, no one but Prince Michael and she knew of the invitation.

“I’m your fairy godfather. How can I protect and help you unless I know everything. I know you barely made it out of the prince’s castle before midnight, in spite of my warning.”

“Yes, it was difficult to leave Prince Michael.”

“Heed my warnings, or he’ll see you as you are before he is completely infatuated with you.”

“Yes, I will, Straparola, thank you for taking such good care of me. Can you do it again on Monday?” Her eyes pleaded with him. If he was her fairy godfather, it would be no problem.

“There’ll be no problem with the carriage on Monday. But, are you sure you know what you are getting into, Cinderella?”

“That is why I need your advice and guidance, Straparola. Tell me about the Hellfire Club.” She was sure that he knew about it.

“The Hellfire Club was started over a hundred years ago by the king at that time. The elite members of the aristocracy started a secret society where they could indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. It is not only for men, but also women, many of them wives of the members.”

“What of the special guests?”

“You mean like Elizabet?”

“Yes. Like Elizabet.” He knew that, too.

“The members not only indulge in carnal desires with each other, but the special guests bring fresh, young, nubile bodies. Many of the special guests are ignorant of the reason for the parties, but they soon learn that they are powerless to resist what happens to them. The aristocrats are too powerful to deny them their God-given rights, so they submit. Some are brought by deceit and revenge, as in the case of Elizabet.”

“I know I shouldn’t have done that,” Cinderella was ashamed at what she did.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed, Cinderella. I’m proud of what you did. The Browning’s have treated you worse than a servant, more like a slave. They deserve everything that they’ll get. I hope the other two also receive your wrath.”

He’s right. She’d been treated as a slave, and they deserved it. She no longer felt the guilt, and she’d make sure that Prince Michael shamed Elizabet in the most public way. She still wasn’t sure of what happened at the parties; for her sexual experience was limited to what she saw others indulge in. “Explain to me in more details of the parties.”

“Everything and anything happens at them. The women are spanked and whipped for the pleasure of the men to watch, often stroking their pricks at the women’s anguish. The women are bound in the most degrading and revealing positions as their bodies are stripped naked to be on display. They are taken in all of their orifices by men and women, often in concert with others for multiple penetrations.” He saw the shocked look on her face.

That was more than she could fathom. How could the women do such things, but Cinderella knew that many, like Elizabet, would have no choice. They would be taken sexually, but also whipped and spanked. How could anyone get pleasure in that manner? She looked up as Straparola stood up, but in the dim light, he’d changed once again. He was dressed in a black suit with crisp pleats and a white shirt. He was clean shaven and even his smell had improved, the scent of cologne filled the barn. Next to him was a large wooden chair, just like the one in the dining room, but it wasn’t there minutes ago.

“Stand up, Cinderella.” He sat down in the chair as he waited for her.

She stood up as if she was commanded by the king himself. Straparola sat there, his hands out in front of him. She walked next to him and knew that his hands would take possession of her body. She shivered when she heard those words, but she didn’t know if it was fear or lust.

“Lay across my lap, Cinderella.”

She didn’t ask him why; she obeyed without question. She knew that he’d get his pleasure from her in some way. That was her payment for his help, but she knew it was more than that. He was teaching her the ways of men. She felt his hand on her back as she slowly bent over his body. The hand slid down farther, caressing her backside as her hair fell down in front of her onto the hay on the floor. The blood rushed to her head as she was bent over. She felt something hard beneath her when she squirmed on his lap as his hand became bolder on her backside. Her feet dangled off one side and her head the other. Her backside was pushed up prominently, and his hand rested on her uncomfortably. It was difficult for her to get comfortable in such a position, squirming on his lap. As she did, she could feel his erection slide back and forth across her mound. His prick had come alive beneath her.

Straparola let her squirm on his lap, feeling so much pleasure as she rubbed his prick. The more she squirmed, the better it felt. He knew that she could make him cum without touching him with her hands, but he knew that if he spanked her, she’d move more urgently and his pleasure would increase exponentially. That is what made spanking so erotic and pleasurable.

She finally stopped moving, though she regretted it. His prick stopped moving, though it was hard as a rock beneath her. If only she could move just a bit and get it to rub her quim. His hand slid up her naked leg and sent shivers between her legs. She was shocked when his hand hit one of her buttocks, and she yelped loudly. It burned more than she expected.

Straparola moved his hand to her other buttock, caressing it first before he slapped it hard. This time, she expected it, though he still got a soft cry from her lips. He rubbed the spot for a moment.

Her backside was rocked with two sharp slaps, and her flesh began to burn and tingle in pain. His hand continued to caress her, lulling her into a false sense of security before he lashed out again and slapped her buttocks with more powerful blows. He kept this up for long minutes until she was left breathless and whimpering.

His hand slowly grabbed the edge of her dress and pulled it up. He made sure that she felt his finger touch her naked flesh as he drew it up her legs until he began to expose the beginning of her buttocks. He neatly pulled the dress above her buttocks and folded it on her back. Her white undergarments were worn and tattered as he began to explore her buttocks once again, this time only her undergarments protected her, but not for long.

His hands took liberties with her backside, running over the heated and sore flesh. His fingers rubbed the edges of her undergarment and shamed her with her near nakedness. Even in the dim barn, lit only by a single lantern, she was sure that she was exposed vulgarly. She felt a rush of the cold night air on her bottom when he plucked open one side of her undergarment to expose her naked backside. She felt her undergarment grow tight over her body as he manipulated it to pull the fabric taut against her quims lips. Her muffled cry of anguish rang out as she wriggled once again, setting his prick into spasms of pleasure beneath her quim. She went from pain in her backside, to another type of heat that built up between her legs. He continued to pull the fabric of her undergarment back and forth to tease her quim. She should feel shame and pain from what he did, but her quim was soaked. He stopped yanking her undergarment, but then, he pulled it toward the center until it was wedged between the sharp divide of her back. She waited breathlessly to see what he’d do next when she felt a sharp slap on her buttock and it was more intense. He’d found naked skin to attack, and it burned furiously. He ran his fingers over the soft flesh that he’d just attacked, but Cinderella felt something else. With her undergarments pushed between her cheeks and up tightly against her quim, each blow made her jerk and rub his prick, but it also aroused her when her undergarments rubbed her as if it were her fingers.

Straparola heard her gasps as he continued to slap her naked buttocks, but her sharp cries of pain were now soft moans. His hand went from slapping her flesh, to caressing her, running his finger along her crack, all the way down until he touched close to her quim. There was no mistaking the wetness on her undergarments. “Spread your legs open for me, Cinderella.”

The words sounded so obscene, yet she found herself growing wet as the pain went away to be replaced with something much different. Her body was on edge, trying to anticipate the pain or pleasure, but now, they both brought the same results. She tried to move on his lap and obey his command, but all she did was make his prick jerk in such excitement. She felt his fingers between her legs pinch the soft flesh of her thighs, and when she jerked in pain, his hand pushed between her thighs and pawed them open by sheer force. “AAAHHH!” She cried out loudly when his hand slipped between her legs and she felt his fingers pinch her quim with such authority. Her backside jerked up, but then, she settled back down onto his prick.

He slapped her naked buttocks four times until they turned red, but then, his hand slid between her spread thighs to find her wet quim and trace his fingers along the soft, wet flesh. Her moans grew louder. “Be still,” he warned her.

She clenched her hands into fists as she bit her lips to contain her lust. She tried to stay still, but his questing finger sent a thrill through her body that she couldn’t contain. Then, he deserted her quim and spanked her naked buttocks with two sharp slaps, but her cry wasn’t of pain. His hand found her quim and rubbed her lightly, but that wasn’t what she wanted. “Harder, Straparola,” she begged.

He was pleased with her response as his fingers gripped the wet lips of her quim. He knew she was a virgin, so he wouldn’t enter her, but that wouldn’t stop him from pleasuring her. She began to move violently, not sure if she wanted to rub herself or him, but he felt the pleasure as she humped his excited prick.

Cinderella didn’t know what caused it, the pain, the pleasure or the constant rubbing and shame of being spanked and masturbated in front of him. She thrashed about on his lap as she felt her orgasm race through her body. She trembled and moaned as she rubbed against his fingers and prick until she crested and her body jerked in tiny spasms. His prick rose up and rubbed her in just the right way when another wave of an orgasm hit her, this one rolled gently over her body. Her body finally lay exhausted over his, spent from his expert fingers.

He helped her up, but then, he got up and let her sit in the chair. He stood in front of her, and she couldn’t help but notice the large bulge in his trousers. It was in front of her face so prominently.

“Open up my trousers and take out my prick, Cinderella.” His words were precise.

She couldn’t stop her hands from trembling as she leaned forward in the chair. In spite of just having an orgasm, she felt her arousal grow once again. She unbuckled the belt on his pants and opened the buttons on the front of his trousers. They already started to fall down, but she didn’t notice right away. Her eyes were glued to the large bulge in his undergarment and the wet spot on it that grew as his prick heaved in the tight confines. When she looked, his pants were almost to his knees, but she slid them until they were around his ankles, but she was eager to get back to his prick.

Straparola said nothing as he stood there, his prick straining to get free. He watched her small, dainty hands grip the top of his undergarment, but then, she released it. Has she changed her mind? The next sound from her mouth was a soft moan as her fingers went to the front of his undergarment and curled around the shaft as she outlined it and trapped it. The touch of her fingers made him too excited, and her fingers became bolder and more demanding as she tried to grip his spastic prick, but the more she touched it, the worse she made it jump.

It came alive as soon as she touched it, unable to contain it in her fingers as though it tried to escape, but the only sounds from Straparola were his moans of pleasure. Her fingers grew bolder as she squeezed the thick shaft, feeling the muscles beneath her fingers jerk in such pleasure. The more she squeezed the shaft, the more the spot of wetness grew. Her fingers weren’t to be denied as they slid up the shaft until she felt the thick head at the top. She squeezed it, and her fingers touched the wet spot to feel the warm, sticky juices that stained his undergarments. She had to see it. She went back to the job of pulling his undergarment down; this time, she did it hastily until it fell around ankles.

Naked, his prick bounced in front of him at a sixty-degree angle until her soft fingers moved back and gripped it. This time, her fingers curled around the shaft to trap it and hold it up as she inspected it.

She didn’t think it would be so hot, hard to tell when her feet touched it, but her fingers were more sensitive. The shaft had veins that ran up and pulsated with his blood, but there were tiny bumps on the wrinkled and slack skin of the shaft. The head was different, not only smooth, but a deep red as though the blood was pushed into the head and trapped. It had a darker ridge around it where it met the shaft, but beneath it was pink skin. Her eyes were drawn to the tip of the head, a tiny hole that was covered with the glistening juices that leaked out. As she moved her hand on the shaft, more drops leaked. With her thumb, she ran over the head, feeling the hot, sticky juices that escaped. She rubbed her wet thumb over the head until it glistened. When her finger touched the thick ridge, his prick jerked uncontrollably. One finger explored just beneath the ridge and got a cry of pleasure and a spurt of juices that flowed from the tip from her exploration. She ran her fingernail over the soft, pink flesh and was rewarded with more of his juices. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to get him to leak out, but she knew when he had an orgasm, it would be much more. Straparola had cum profusely over her feet.

Straparola couldn’t control his prick as her inexperienced fingers explored him so completely. Soon, she had him leaking profusely as she held him tight for her intimate exploration. Unexpectedly, her other hand went between his legs and cupped his testicles. She hefted them up as if she was weighing them, but her touch was soft and gentle as if she knew how delicate they were. Then, her fingers sought out his reluctant balls as she chased them around in the bag until she could capture one. Her fingers became more demanding as she squeezed his testicles, and he rewarded her with an unexpected spurt of precum that spilled from his prick.

Hanging between his legs, she searched out what her toes had explored before, but her fingers were more aggressive. He had a thick thatch of wiry, black hair that covered them, but the bag was wrinkled, yet heavy. Inside, she felt them try to escape as she sought out the elusive testicles until she could capture one. She inadvertently squeezed it too tight, but from the spurt of his seed that spilled from his prick; it wasn’t painful enough to deny his pleasure. She knew she had to give him an orgasm, but she wouldn’t ask how. She’d learn by trying as she already did.

Her fingers curled around the shaft of his prick and began to stroke him with such skill. Her fingers would tighten and relax just enough as she pulled the loose skin taut. Her other hand still cradled his balls, but she began to grip and tighten on them as though she knew that it would make him drip more cum, which he did. She held his prick out in front of her face, stroking it back and forth without thinking of the danger of him cumming on her face.

More and more of his juices flowed out, and she realized that when she tightened her fingers as they ran over the head, it extracted such pleasure from him. Her stroking grew quicker, and her fingers clenched on his testicles, knowing that was where his seed would come from. Drops dribbled from the head with more certainty, and she pushed his prick to the side as he neared his pleasure. She wanted to see him spurt, but she didn’t want her face covered in it.

“Yes, yes,” he cried out as the pleasure raced up from his balls and shot out his prick with such pleasure and force. She’d moved it to the side so his thick crème shot out and splashed on the barn floor, but her hand never stopped moving, stroking up and down the growing wetness that flooded from the head and dripped down the side.

It made it easier to stroke him, his seed slippery. She watched his seed fly by her head and smack hard on the floor, but he was insatiable, shooting out repeatedly as she continued to stroke his orgasm. She began to feel him lose some of the hardness as the last of the juices flowed from his prick. Her hand was wet with his hot juices as she finally stopped stroking his prick.

She released his prick when she emptied him, but he was surprised by her boldness. Her wet hand went to her mouth, and her pink tongue pushed out her lips to tentatively touch his cum on her hand. She grimaced from the first taste, but her tongue pushed out once again to take a broad stroke along her hand to gather up more of his juices. The same grimace appeared on her face, but he saw her throat move as she swallowed.

She tasted his juices, thick and salty and a bit acrid. The slightest drop in her mouth refused to mix with her spit, but it spread its foul taste as if it was a gallon that flooded her mouth. She wouldn’t spit it out, too unladylike, but it was difficult to get it go down her gullet. Straparola pulled up his undergarment and his pants. The chair was gone, and he was dressed like a beggar once again as if none of this happened, but the taste of his seed still flooded her mouth.

“The carriage will pick you up down the road at seven fifteen so no one will see you. Don’t forget, back by twelve or you’ll suffer the consequences.” And then, he was gone.





Chapter 4





Hellfire Club and Elizabet


The household was in turmoil all weekend as Elizabet began to get ready for Monday. Her mother got her a new dress, it looked too formal, but Elizabet wouldn’t defy her mother again. Once was bad enough. As the hour approached for the carriage to arrive, Cinderella helped her into her tight corset until her body was forced into the hourglass figure she desired. Elizabet never understood why she grew aroused when the corset was tied too tight, but she was ashamed to ask anyone.

“You look good, Elizabet,” Cinderella tried to compliment her.

“What do you know,” she quickly dismissed her.

Cinderella stayed out of sight until the carriage picked up Elizabet. She made one appearance with Lady Browning. “Do you need anything for the night? I’m not feeling well and I’m going to bed.”

“Be off with you,” Lady Browning ushered her out of the room. “I’ll attend to Elizabet when she comes home.”

Cinderella heard Lady Browning tell Mary before she was out of hearing range. “She’s jealous of Elizabet and Prince Michael.”

Cinderella went to her room but only stayed for a minute. Then, she rushed silently out the kitchen door and raced down the road in the dark. Her heart sank when she saw nothing but the black night envelope the lonely road.

“Over here, Cinderella.”

She raced over to the side of the road when she heard Straparola’s voice as her heart raced. She’d been afraid he’d forget her or he couldn’t make the magic he did before. “Where’s my carriage?”

“Don’t hurry; I must find you something nice to wear to entice Prince Michael.” He tapped her head, shoulders and buttocks with his wand, and the mist rose from her toes until it covered her head. When the cool night breeze blew it away, she was dressed.

Straparola was impressed with her dress. She wore a white dress that had buttons that ran from her shoulders, under her arms to the hem that held it together. Her lean, long legs were encased in white lace stockings that went to her thighs and were tied with pink ribbons. Prince Michael would be appreciative when he saw them. She wore no corset, none needed with her young, nubile body. Her undergarments were made of the finest silk, laced with ribbons to pull them tight in all the right places. On her feet were the same glass heels she wore before, the four-inch heels left her calves taut and shapely. Her hair was pulled behind her and went half way down her back. Her lips were painted an enticing red, and the sweet scent of jasmine filled the night air. He had one more thing, a white mask. “You’ll need that.”

He had the carriage laid out in the road, and with a flick of his wand, there her silver carriage with six black horses, coachman and driver appeared from an apple, cockroaches and rats. The door opened and Cinderella stepped inside, eager to see Prince Michael. “Thank you, Straparola,” was the last words she said as the carriage leaped forward to the castle.

Elizabet arrived at the prince’s castle, not decorated like the ball. It was dark except for the torches that lit the entrance, but the yard was filled with carriages, the coachmen smoking among themselves as they waited for their masters. The door opened, and she got out. She was greeted by a woman that she didn’t know. Her heart sank; she expected Prince Michael.

“I’m Lady Oates. You must be Lady Browning. Prince Michael asked that I meet you.”

“You may call me Elizabet, Lady Browning is my mother.”

“Address me as Lady Oates. Come, Elizabet.”

“Where are we going?” They didn’t head to where Elizabet heard the sound of voices and music.

“I thought I might help you dress more appropriately for tonight,” she said rudely.

What is wrong with the way I dressed? She should have defied her mother and picked something more appropriate. She followed her to a long hallway, and they went into a bedroom. Lady Oates was a distinguished-looking woman about the same age as her mother, but her body seemed to be more seductive and enticing. Her full breasts were pushed up high, and she left a generous amount of white cleavage revealed. Her waist was slim, but her hips were full. Her bottom was round and firm as if she was young and nubile. She walked smartly as she moved with such precision for each step she took.

“You have a lovely body, Elizabet, such that any man, including Prince Michael, would desire, but you don’t show it to the fullest. Take off the terrible dress so I can see what I have to work with.”

Elizabet didn’t know why she did it so easily, but she obeyed without question, though it was difficult to get out of the dress without any help. She stood in front of Lady Oates in her corset.

“Do you enjoy tight lacing, Elizabet?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Your corsets, do you enjoy being put in tight corsets and your body squeezed?”

This is what she never mentioned to anyone else, but Lady Oates seemed to know exactly what she felt. “Yes, the tighter the better.”

“Does it make you excited, Elizabet, sexually excited?”

She should be ashamed to admit it, but it was as if she felt the same thing. “Yes, it makes me tingle, but I wish it was more.”

“I can help you, Elizabet, Would you like that?”

“Yes, I can’t talk to my mother about such things.”

“I know what you want more than you do, just trust me. Prince Michael will love it.”

She opened up the dresser and rummaged through it until she found what she was looking for. Elizabet was a bit on the plump side, so she needed a big-enough corset to contain all of her flesh. “Here it is; take off your corset. This one will be much better.”

She had a blush on her face, but she obeyed without question, stripping off her corset until she only had on the silk undergarment, standing almost naked in front of her.

“Turn around.” Lady Oates began to help her into it. It was made out of the finest silk but was thick to keep it from tearing. It covered the lower half of her breasts and went to the top of her mound.

She felt it go around her, but this one was strange. There were straps hanging down from the bottom of it, many of them in the front and the back. She didn’t know what they were for, but Lady Oates already began to lace up the corset. It began to compress her waist but also her breasts. She looked down to see them squeezed so tight, but the top parts of her breasts were pushed out until they looked like they’d explode. Lady Oates continued to tighten the corset, top and bottom, and Elizabet struggled to breathe as her waist was severely constrained. Cinderella never made it this tight. She groaned, but Lady Oates never stopped.

Lady Oates showed Elizabet her reflection in the mirror. She had a perfect hourglass figure, a slim waist at least eight inches smaller. Her buttocks flared out, but it was her breasts that were exaggerated so boldly. They pushed out the top confines of the corset, and they looked twice the size. Elizabet’s face was flushed as she struggled to fill her lungs, but she couldn’t take a deep breath. “What do you think?”

She gasped as she tried to speak. “I love what you did.” She felt wetness between her thighs, and even though her nipples were trapped in the corset, they were hard and throbbing.

“Are you aroused?”

“Yes, Lady Oates,” she shamefully admitted. “What are the straps for?” They hung down and rubbed sexily along her thighs as if they were a man’s fingers that stroked her arousal.

“Stand up straight and spread your legs, Elizabet. I’ll show you.”

She felt no shame as she spread her legs willingly. Strange hands touched her between her legs, but instead of protesting, she felt her juices begin to flow. The straps began to tighten over buttocks, one on each side. They met between her legs and then they were pulled around the front. Fingers adjusted them as Elizabet struggled to contain the growing arousal. When the straps tightened on her backside, it pulled her buttocks open. She tried to clench them tight, but she couldn’t. She knew the crack of her backside was gone and all was exposed. It was as if a man’s hands yanked them apart to expose them to his prying eyes. The straps met on her perineum as if they were strapped together, but then, they parted. In the front, they found the soft pedals of her quim, and as the straps moved up and tightened, they pulled her lips apart. She felt the pressure as they dug into her soft lips and trapped them. She looked into the mirror and saw that her quim was exposed lewdly, the pink, wet inner lips exposed from the swollen pleasure button to the dark hole of her quim, all uncovered to the bright lights. Elizabet couldn’t imagine how it would feel when she walked.

“I’m not finished yet,” but Lady Oates could see the flush of arousal on her face. There was one more strap to attach.

Elizabet bowed her legs out as another strap was pulled between them, but this time, it started along her spread crack and went through her legs and back up through the pulled-back lips of her quim. It ran around to the front of the corset, and then, Lady Oates began to tighten it. This was more than a strap. It was thicker than the others, and she felt something hard and bulging on her anus. As it tightened, her anal ring began to expand to accommodate the thickness, but at the same time, another thickness pushed into her quim and a third rubbed over her pleasure button to push it harshly into her pubic bone. When Lady Oates finished tightening the strap, it felt like she was penetrated front and back.

She wouldn’t let her walk until she was completely dressed and unable to stop it. “This is a much nicer dress for the occasion.” The dress accented her full breasts, cut low so both of her breasts almost spilled out the top. It was designed to be worn with the corset and molded across her body to highlight her hourglass figure. It went to the top of her knees, and Lady Oates helped her into the four-inch heels that fastened around her ankles with straps to keep them from coming off.

Elizabet couldn’t deny that the dress was much more stylish, and she couldn’t believe how her body had taken shape. Her figure looked perfect, though Elizabet still felt dizzy as she struggled to fill her lungs. Her body tingled with excitement without moving the least bit. She felt the pressure on her bottom and on her quim. It was as if she waited to be stroked.

“One more thing and then you’re ready to go, Elizabet.” She handed her the mask. “Put it on, everyone has one. Your identity won’t be revealed.”

She gasped when she took the first step. It felt like her anus was pierced by something thick and demanding, at the same time her quim felt like a prick had entered her. It wasn’t pain she felt for her pleasure button was flattened and rubbed in such a way. Her body grew flushed and the wetness between her legs spread. By time she got to the door, she struggled not to have an orgasm. Her buttocks and quim was spread open and rubbed by unseen forces, all determined to make her orgasm.

“Do you like that, Elizabet?” She knew she did. She wore no undergarments, naked except for the straps that incited her lust.

“Yeess,” her voice trembled. They stopped at a door, and Elizabet heard the loud voices of men inside.

Prince Michael tried not to look anxious, but he waited impatiently for Ella. He knew nothing of her, but he was infatuated with her. He’d soon find out if she was sexually compatible with him. He hoped that his efforts to appease her revenge against Elizabet would help, for she had to believe that it would involve her taken sexually in front of everyone. That is what the Hellfire Club was for. He finally saw the carriage arrive, the black horses snorted loudly when they came to a halt. It was as though they came from the gates of Hell.

She looked completely different when she got out of the carriage. Her dress was sexy and revealing, along with long legs covered in lace stockings. “Welcome, Ella.”

“It’s good to be here, Prince Michael,” letting him kiss her hand and linger.

“Lady Elizabet Browning is here, but she is being prepared. Shall we go?”

Ella, as she called herself with Prince Michael, loved that term, being prepared. She hooked her arm into his as she proudly walked next to him. All bowed or curtsied as they passed, and Ella gave each one a knowing nod of her head as if she was royalty. She felt like it. She loved the suit that Prince Michael wore, all the way down to the expertly tailored trousers that enhanced the bulge of his prick beneath it. She enjoyed that she inspired his erection with not so much as a touch. She heard many voices, mostly men’s boisterous sounds, but they passed by some rooms until they came to one. He held the door open for her.

Inside, there were six men in the room along with six women, but only three looked to be wives. The other three were young, too young to be a wife. They sat in large, overstuffed chairs, each big enough for two so they would have their privacy. The chairs encircled the center of the room as though it was reserved for a show. The men were from wealth, their hair cut to perfection, their suits tailored and stylish. They were all in good physical shape, though most were in their forties, only one looked to be as young as the prince. Cinderella was glad that Straparola picked out her dress, just as stylish and sexy as the other women. Against the wall was some covered furniture, not sure what it was, but there were two men standing next to them, ready to move them when desired. There was one empty chair reserved for Prince Michael, and it sat in the center of the circle of chairs.

Prince Michael took time to greet each member and the woman he was with, though he didn’t recognize some of the younger women. They were often interchangeable with a new one each week. He held Ella’s hand as he introduced her. “Are we about to start?” Prince Michael asked.

“She’s on her way here with Lady Oates.”

Ella felt a chill run through her body when she sat next to Prince Michael and their hips touched.

Elizabet was soaked by the time she entered the room; the walk was sexually exhausting. The straps between her legs worked in concert to bring her body to a peak. She entered the room and was surprised to see so many men and women. She caught sight of Prince Michael immediately, seated in the chair with the most prominence, but her heart dropped when he saw that woman next to him, the one that he danced with at the ball. Her mother told her she was named Ella, but she knew nothing more. No one knew anything about her.

“Come,” but Lady Oates, no longer using Elizabet’s name.

Elizabet was led to the center of the room, and everyone looked at her, Elizabet was positive that they could tell she was aroused and why. She looked at Lady Oates and saw the riding crop in her hand, wondering where it came from and why she had it.

“Take off your dress,” but she punctuated the command with a slap of the riding crop against her buttocks. “Now,” another slap and she saw the look of surprise on Elizabet’s face.

Her buttocks stung from the blow, but the people just stared at her, none said a thing or protested. It was as if it was expected and the most natural thing.

Lady Oates whispered into her ear. “Don’t disappoint Prince Michael, now do what I say or it’ll get worse. You’ll perform for his pleasure unless you want to suffer the consequences of defying the king and end up in the castle jail until you are an old woman.”

No one defied the king. He was ruthless against those that displeased him and Elizabet was sure that he’d take out his vengeance on anyone that defied his son. She looked and saw no sympathy from the men in the audience, especially Prince Michael. He had a smirk on his face. Another slap to her buttock and she became inspired. She reached back to undo the dress, difficult to do because the slightest movement made the straps touch her in different ways. Lady Oates grew impatient and helped her until the dress fell to her feet. She put one hand over her bosom while the other went between her legs as all the men looked at her.

Michael was impressed with the corset she wore, but it was the straps between her legs that drew his eyes. “Remove your hands and put them at your sides,” he ordered her sternly.

Her hands trembled as she stood up tall with her hands at her sides. All eyes were below her waist where they could see the straps and how lewdly they exposed her sex to their searching eyes. She was naked except for the straps that did more to enhance than hide.

“Spread your legs,” Lady Oates punctuated her request with two slaps to her buttocks and that got her attention. Her legs spread. “See how wet she is. The straps give her such pleasure. She enjoys the stringent bondage. It excites her.”

Elizabet turned a heated red at the shame when her secret was exposed. She couldn’t deny it as the straps were wet with her juices. With her legs spread, they could see her slit opened up and her pink insides exposed.

“Turn around and show your backside.” Lady Oates was ready with the whip; this time, it attacked her tender thighs before Elizabet yelped and turned around quickly. “Legs spread wide.” Another blow to her thighs, but this time, it was from behind, but close to her quim.

At least they wouldn’t see her shame. She tried to clench her cheeks, but the straps prevented her, and her clenching only made the lump push harsher into her stretched anal ring.

“Bend over and touch your toes and hold that position.” Another slap, but she learned and bent over quickly.

She couldn’t take much more of the riding crop. Her skin felt hot and sore each time it slashed out, and it was worse when it attacked her tender thighs. She feared that Lady Oates would strike her on her quim. She groaned as the straps between her legs tightened. Her insides were penetrated by the bumps on the straps, not so much by the length, but the thickness of the bumps. Her quim and anus was stretched wide. Through her shame, she felt the strap rub her pleasure button, not in pain but shameful pleasure. She struggled not to have an orgasm in front of them all. The blood rushed to her head as she struggled to keep the position.

“Stand up.”

Elizabet finally got relief, but it was short-lived.

“Squat down then back up. Do that twenty times for Prince Michael? Keep your knees spread out to the sides.”

The straps all took their toll on her body as she performed. With her knees spread wide to the sides, all of her quim was opened up except the fearsome strap that rubbed her up the middle. She had to turn around and do the last ten with her back to them, feeling as though her bowels opened up each time she did and they saw everything. When she did the twenty and stood up with her legs spread, there were drops of her pleasure on the floor beneath her. How could this humiliating act make me aroused?

Lady Oates’ hand slid around her waist. “You are soaked, Elizabet,” she whispered in her ear. “I’m going to take your corset off, but don’t worry. I’ll have you bound soon enough to make you grow aroused once again.”

Elizabet trembled as Lady Oates began to undo the strings that kept her body pinned so tight in the corset. She was more ashamed at being taken out of the corset, because they would see that her body was no longer beautiful in an hourglass figure. She didn’t fear being bound; in fact, she looked forward to it, igniting a growing arousal at the thought.

Lady Oates stood Elizabet in front of all the men as she slowly removed the corset from her body. She had to take off the straps that split her buttocks and her quim and that disappointed Elizabet. Lady Oates soon had the strings opened, and she slid the corset down until Elizabet was stark naked and her body was covered in a pink flush of shame. Lady Oates nodded to the two men that brought the device over to the middle of the floor.

As the black cloth revealed the device, Elizabet’s thoughts of bondage turned to fear. It was a long bench made of thick pine. It stood up on four sturdy legs with crossbeams for added strength. It was about three feet long, but as the width of the bench went toward the end, it grew wider until it was about three feet wide. There were black leather straps and buckles at the end on each side. The front of the bench had a thick round pole that rose up from the center for about two feet. At the top was a leather strap bolted to the post, but about six inches from the other end of the strap was a dog collar. It was at least two inches thick, but it had to be for a large dog or what she feared, the neck of whoever was bound to the bench. On the bench in front was two more leather buckles, but they were bolted down, one on each side. She turned to Lady Oates to plead with her, but in her hand was a large, black leather paddle with the riding crop.

“Kneel on the bench and don’t give me trouble,” she warned her.

Naked and defenseless, Elizabet had no choice. The men were more interested in what would happen to her than helping her. Some of the women already rubbed the men’s trousers that sat next to them, making their erections bolder. Her knees ached when she got on the hard bench.

“Spread your legs wider, to the edge of the bench,” a sharp slap of the riding crop on her thigh made Elizabet move faster.

The riding crop hurt much more than before, and Elizabet feared the thick paddle. She felt male hands on her ankles, pulling them rudely apart until she felt the leather bands go around her ankles, and then, the buckles were tightened until she felt tingles in her toes. Her legs were spread too wide, leaving her open for everyone to see. Then, the man’s gripped her wrists and made her slide her hands along the bench until they could secure them in the cuffs, the buckles made too tight once again.

Lady Oates tapped Elizabet’s chin with the riding crop hard enough to make her push it up until it stood up proudly. It took only a minute for one of the men to secure the dog collar around her neck. She made sure that it wouldn’t be too tight. Then, she unveiled the large mirror in front of her and behind her. Elizabet would be able to see everything that the men saw.

Elizabet was shamefully exposed with her legs spread wide and the divide of her backside lewdly spread. She was exposed from anus to quim. Her breasts hung down like heavy udders, but that didn’t stop her nipples from swelling. She was forced to look forward by the dog collar that kept her head pinned tight.

“You may cry out all you want,” Lady Oates warned her. “Men’s pricks get very hard at the thought of a lovely, naked woman being whipped and paddled for their pleasure, and cries only make it better.”

“Noooo, pleassee, noooo—” but her begging was cut off by the sharp slap of the leather paddle on one buttock. It felt like the flesh was shoved into her bone with such force, burning all the way down. When it pulled back, her buttock still shook with pain. “OOOOWWW!” Another blow came just as fast to the other one before she could comprehend the first. Lady Oates started at the top of her bottom and worked meticulously down both sides. It hurt when it slapped so close to her anus, sending the tight knot into spasms. Elizabet still felt the shame at being penetrated by the straps in such a place. “OOOOOWWW, noooo mooorreee!” She cried out when the paddle struck close to where her buttocks met the tender flesh of her thighs, stinging with such pain. Her body shook, but the straps held her tight and spread.

Ella watched as Prince Michael looked so intently at what happened to Elizabet. She couldn’t believe the depravity of it, naked and kneeling, Elizabet’s bottom was being beaten with a paddle, yet no man made any attempt to help her. Ella should feel sorry for her, but she didn’t. Elizabet had been cruel to her for too many years, and she deserved everything that would happen to her, yet Ella didn’t know the depths of depravity that would overtake her. She did notice that Prince Michael’s prick rose up to greater prominence as Elizabet was paddled. She looked around the room and saw the other men were also more inspired by what took place. There was good reason for it. Some of the women had drawn the men’s pricks out of their trousers, especially the younger women, eager to please. She looked around until all six men had their pricks stroked by soft hands that glided up and down the shafts, just as Ella had done to Straparola. None of the men looked at the woman at his side; they were engrossed in Elizabet’s distress.

Michael wanted to touch his prick and pull it out, but he didn’t want to scare Ella off. It surprised him when he suddenly felt something, looking down long enough to see Ella’s soft hands slowly opening up his trousers. The slightest touch of her fingers as they grazed across his trousers made his clenching prick rouse to such hardness. “AAAHHH,” he cried softly in pleasure when her hand pushed into his trousers and clenched on his undergarment-covered prick. Her fingers didn’t stay still as she explored it. He tried to watch Elizabet, but his eyes were continually drawn back to Ella as her fingers finally pulled his prick from his pants and stood it up so proudly. She didn’t look at him; she watched his prick so intently, as if she was memorizing everything about it.

All around her, Elizabet could see the men getting pleasure from the women’s stroking hands on their pricks, but it was her cries and anguish that made them hard and excited. Her bottom ached and burned, but she felt her quim grow wet once again. She fought against the leather straps that held her bound and spread, but when she felt the pain of them tight around her limbs, she also felt the pleasure of her naked body spread and bound for the men’s pleasure. The riding crop was next, more precise, and Lady Oates used it with such skill. First, Elizabet’s crack of her bottom was attacked by the thin but resilient leather crop. The slap was much harsher and concentrated, and Elizabet cried out, but in shame when she was hit on her anus. She could feel the muscles revolt, spasms of pain shook her body as the tight knot swelled under the relentless blows of the crop. It felt like Lady Oates tried to drive the crop into the dark depths of her bowels, but that thought only made her think more of what that would feel like. She looked over to see the woman with Prince Michael stroke his prick. Elizabet knew she was tricked into this. Prince Michael only wanted to see her suffer, but so did the other men. Is that all men want from me?

Lady Oates took to Elizabet’s thighs, slapping the riding crop back and forth until they turned a lovely pink. She moved from her knees all the way to her quim. She made sure that Elizabet felt the wind of the crop on her quim to warn her of what would soon happen. Lady Oates wasn’t surprised that the lips of her spread-open quim were wet with her juices.

Elizabet’s body froze as the crop came closer to her quim, part of her feared it, but the growing part of her arousal welcomed it. Yet, when it happened, it still surprised her by the ruthlessness of it. This was the most sensitive part of a woman’s body and should be treated gently, not whipped for the pleasure of men. That is what she’d thought, but now, she wasn’t sure. “OOOWWEEE!” The first blow was hard and caught her on her outer lips where the flesh was puffy. It slapped hard against the soft skin with a loud, wet sound that rang out in the room. She didn’t have time to think as Lady Oates moved up and down Elizabet’s slit without slowing up, extracting the loudest cries from her mouth. It felt like her quim swelled up, but she couldn’t stop the flood of her arousal from spilling shamefully between her legs.

Lady Oates began to ravish her body with the riding crop, from her anus to her quim, then catching her dangling breasts until they swung like udders beneath her but with hard nipples that bore the brunt of the crop. Lady Oates paid special attention to the top of Elizabet’s slit. It was difficult to get enough force from between her legs, but she did it consistently with a rhythm to continually tap at the swelling pleasure button. “She’s going to cum for us,” Lady Oates proudly stated to all.

Elizabet should be ashamed at what she said, but she was correct. Elizabet couldn’t hold it back any longer. She watched all those pricks being stroked to such hardness, and they leaked out their seed, all while they watched her being whipped. Instead of being ashamed, she was proud she could inspire such lust in the gentlemen with her naked body. She let her body go as the pain and pleasure consumed her with an explosive orgasm. It was as if her life was shattered with pleasure. “Harder, faster,” she cried out as she came.

They all watched her body go into spasms of pleasures; the bench beneath her legs was wet with a pool of her arousal. Lady Oates continued to work her over with the riding crop, not letting her orgasm end, driving her from one plateau to another. She was an expert at what she did, and the bound woman was no match for her.

Elizabet collapsed in a pool of pleasure, but the straps held her and refused to let her go. She watched as the men got up from the chairs, their pricks still sticking out of their trousers like spears. Lady Oates stood next to her.

“You did well, but just a bit more now.” Lady Oates hand caressed her face, and then, her fingers slid slowly over her wet lips.

Elizabet didn’t know what she meant. She was exhausted, but then, one of the men stood next to her as his prick jerked uncontrollably. It hadn’t dawned on her until now when Lady Oates pushed her fingers into Elizabet’s mouth and pressed her lips to open. The prick moved closer, and she realized what Lady Oates wanted her to do. Elizabet had lost her virginity to a man and had stroked too many pricks before, but she never took a prick in her mouth. She couldn’t grasp doing such a thing. A prick leaked, and when a man came, he shot profusely. In her mouth, it would choke her to death with the thick crème. She’d tasted just a tiny drop from her fingers, and her face had grimaced with the foul, acrid taste. “NOO, noott in mmy mou—” she mumbled around the fingers in her mouth, but it was too late. She felt the hot flesh of a prick on her lower lip, and when the fingers were pulled from her mouth, the prick slid easily inside. Her lips stretched wide around the prick, but nothing she could do would rid it from her mouth. When she moved her tongue, it only excited it more, making it jerk up and hit the roof of her mouth but fall back down onto her tongue once again, but now, it stained it with his leaking cum.

He looked at her, her eyes covered with the mask, but the rest of her was naked and spread for his pleasure, but none more than her mouth. Her soft lips caressed his prick in a tight band as her hot mouth and wet tongue touched his prick made it jerk in uncontrollable pleasure. He wouldn’t last long in her mouth, the hand that stroked him for so long almost made him cum. “Suck it; keep your lips tight and your tongue working over my prick, especially the head. Lick up my seed.” He didn’t have to hold her head, the dog collar did that. All he had to do was use his hips to fuck her mouth, and he was good at that.

She didn’t know why she did such a degrading thing, but as the prick drove in and out of her mouth, her lips tightened, and her tongue moved without her commanding it. She cringed as his leaking seed began to foul her mouth, but she could do nothing as her mouth was repeatedly penetrated. He took deep thrusts into her mouth, and he would slam the hard head against the tiny hole of her throat, but her gags only inspired him to shove harder next time. He never pulled his prick out. Her nostrils flared as she struggled to fill her oxygen-starved lungs. She felt and heard the shameful slap of his testicles against her chin with each powerful thrust, but it was the wiry hairs that tickled her lips and nose that made her gag when an errant hair was pushed into her mouth.

His wife was behind him and squeezed his balls, and that was all that was needed. He cried out loudly with one powerful thrust into her mouth. He went up on his toes as his balls were milked of his seed. He saw the shocked look on her face as he flooded her mouth, but he only heard her wet, muffled cries as he emptied his seed in her mouth.

It was a flood of his seed. Her cheeks swelled to contain it, but his prick blocked her mouth, and it had nowhere to go. She gagged on the thick, hot crème that flooded her mouth and coated every inch of it with the acrid, salty crème. Snot poured out of her nose as she struggled, finally forced to try to swallow it. Each time she managed to get some of the thick crème to go down, he shot more. She gulped and choked for long minutes, but he refused to pull his prick from her mouth. It took a long time before she finally got the last of his seed to run slowly down her gullet. She waited for him to pull his softening prick from her mouth, but he stayed inside.

“Lick it clean if you want me to take it out of your mouth, otherwise your tongue will get it hard once again and you can suck me again until I cum.”

She did the shameful job of licking his prick clean, not wanting to endure this again. But, as soon as he pulled out, another prick was ready, hard and wanting. “NOOO, nott anooth—” but her mouth was penetrated once again before her protest could be heard.

Prince Michael and his woman left before the other men were finished with her. When she was unbound, her stomach gurgled with all the seed that was in her belly.

“You did well, Elizabet,” Lady Oates complimented her. “I think we’ll get along fine, don’t you?”

It was that moment that Elizabet knew this was not the end, only the beginning. Lady Oates would demand a lot from her, and Elizabet would submit. As long as she was bound, Elizabet would find pleasure in it all, or at least she hoped she would. Lady Oates was a knowledgeable woman in the pleasures of the flesh.

The men took their turn in her mouth. Michael wanted desperately to have her pleasure his prick with her mouth now that she’d learned how to properly suck a man’s prick, but Ella continued to stroke his prick. Her fingers worked him over with such an expert touch as she learned what inspired him. If only she’d take his prick in her mouth. Yet, she made no attempt to stop stroking him, and he couldn’t contain his lust much longer. Unless she stopped, he’d cum.

Ella refused to let Elizabet suck his prick and make him cum. It would be a defeat for Ella if she did. She had enough foresight to bring a handkerchief with her; Straparola had taught her the usefulness of having it. She reached into his trousers so her fingers could grip his testicles and that made Prince Michael push up in the chair at the same time her fingers stroked over the thick head. She could feel his prick beneath her hand come alive. It swelled, and she barely had time to put the handkerchief over the head before he cried out. The silk handkerchief had a growing wet spot on it, and the unmistakable smell of a man’s seed assailed her nostrils. Ella continued to stroke him, even as her hand gathered up some of his hot juices. It was thick, but it made her hand glide easily up and down the shaft of his prick as he continued to explode, but her eyes were on the growing wetness of the handkerchief.

Michael hadn’t cum that hard in a long time. Ella had surprised him when she took out his prick and stroked it until he came.

Ella quickly put the handkerchief in her small clutch before Prince Michael saw it. She put his prick back in his pants as best she could, but when her fingers touched it, it started to jerk and grow hard once again. She knew she had to leave, not wanting to run into trouble like last time when she ran past the midnight deadline. “I must go, Prince Michael.”

“Do you have to leave me so soon?”

“Yes, I fear I do.”

“Will you come back next week?” He wanted more from her, and after seeing how she took care of his prick, he hoped that he could inspire her to greater acts.

“I don’t think so, Prince Michael. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy what happened to Elizabet, I suspect that you want more from me than I can deliver.”

“But, I planned another surprise for you next week. I’ve arranged for Mary and Lady Browning to attend next week, not from my invitation, but Lord Storr. I won’t spoil you with the details, but you won’t want to miss it if you yearn for revenge.”

He knew just what to do to entice her, playing on her need for revenge. She wondered what she’d have to do to earn this revenge from Straparola and Prince Michael. Yet, the thought of what that might do enticed her as much as the revenge. “If you insist, Prince Michael, I’ll see you next week.”

He turned and kissed her, surprising her as their lips touched and his tongue began to play in her mouth. He pressed up against her body, and she made no attempt to pull away from his passionate embrace. It wasn’t long before her tongue responded, and it was difficult for him to break the kiss. “Good night, Ella. I’ll dream of you.”

“Good night, my prince,” she said as she departed. She’d do more than dream of him tonight. She got home before the stroke of midnight and immediately went to her small room. The house was still, Elizabet hadn’t come home yet. Cinderella saw the light in Lady Browning’s window as she waited for her. Cinderella wondered what Elizabet would tell her mother of her night.

She stripped off her clothes as she got into bed but clutched in her hand was the handkerchief she’d used to capture Prince Michael’s seed. She shut her eyes as she began to imagine it was her, not Elizabet that took a prick in her mouth. She’d watched what the men had made her do, and it was as if Cinderella did it to Prince Michael’s prick. It didn’t take her long before she came, but before she did, she rubbed some of his seed from the handkerchief on her lips so her tongue could lick it up as she masturbated so vividly. When she came, she pushed the handkerchief into her mouth as if it was a gag, and her mouth was flooded with the foul taste of Prince Michael’s seed. In spite of the taste, or maybe because of it, she came loudly, even though her mouth was gagged. Is that what it would feel like if I was bound and made to suck a man’s prick until he came in my mouth as Elizabet did?





Chapter 5





Marriage Proposal


“How was your night at Prince Michael’s party?” Lady Browning asked Elizabet as she helped her take off the dress.

“I enjoyed it,” Elizabet replied, and it wasn’t a lie. “I met some nice people, one of them Lady Ann Oates. She helped me fit in with the aristocrats.”

“I’m glad, Elizabet.” She hoped that Elizabet might fetch a man that would take care of Elizabet and her. Time was running out. She was almost out of money and deep in debt to keep this lifestyle going. Lady Browning knew there was more than what Elizabet told her about the party. She couldn’t hide the marks on her body. Lady Browning wasn’t surprised by them; she’d been around aristocrats long enough to know of their passion for depravity. She was proud of Elizabet, not saying a word about what happened. Lady Oates must have taught her the price she’d have to pay to get a man. There still might be hope that Elizabet could snag a wealthy man to save her from her debts, but Lady Browning couldn’t count on it.

Cinderella noticed a difference in Elizabet. Lady Browning and Mary were just as cruel as before, but Elizabet had learned some humility from last night’s performance.

* * * *

“Thump, thump, thump.”

“Go back to your cleaning, I’ll get it.” Lady Browning didn’t want Cinderella giving the wrong impression when she answered the door. The pounding grew louder and impatient. The person that did it was rude. She opened the door and was about to give that person a piece of her mind when she saw who it was. “Lord Storr, good to see you again. Come in.” She looked at his fine carriage outside with eight horses, a driver and three footmen. He was prosperous. She’d checked up on him after the prince’s ball and found that he was one of the wealthiest men in the county. He was also widowed, his last wife died a year ago, which made him the most eligible bachelor in the county, beside Prince Michael. And now he was at her door.

“A quaint house, Lady Browning,” he commented as he looked around. He went into the living room and took a seat.

“Can I get you something to drink, Lord Storr?”

“A brandy would be nice.” He didn’t want to stay here long. Her house was a hovel. That should make his task that much easier to accomplish. He’d never got turned down before. He was too rich and powerful to be denied anything.

She hurried to get him a brandy. “Stay in the kitchen out of the way.” She brushed past Cinderella and rushed to find Mary. “Come quickly, Lord Storr is in the living room.”

Mary was nervous. Lord Storr made her that way. She’d never run into a man like him before, much older and experienced with women. He wasn’t like the beaus she could wrap around her finger with just a stroke of her hand on their pricks. He was more demanding and took what he wanted. He had fondled her body with impunity and that scared her. But it was her surrender to him that scared her more.

Hubert stood up when he saw Mary come into the room with his brandy. His prick thickened at the sight of her young, nubile body. No woman had made him this way in a long time. He had a bevy of women that sought him out, but he never sought out one like this in the last year. It was her innocence that he sought. She was inexperienced with men, and he’d teach her in the ways of men.

“Good afternoon, Lord Storr.” She nervously handed him the brandy, but he immediately put it on the table. He turned to her, and before she knew what happened, he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately in front of her mother. His hand held her pressed up against him as she felt the bulge of his erection against her. His other hand held the back of her head as he pushed his lips into hers and his tongue forced its way into her mouth. Her body shivered as he took her breath away. She felt his lower body move back and forth against her mound, and his prick began to pulsate. It was long minutes before he broke the kiss and released her. Her face was flushed; ashamed at the way he took her in front of her mother. She looked to her mother for sympathy, but she had a big smile on her face.

“It’s good to see you again, Mary. You are such a refreshing beauty to my eyes.” And his prick was inspired, also, but she knew that. He made sure that he was obvious when he rubbed his prick on her mound, testing her resolve. She never said a thing or protested his intentions. He sat back down and noticed that Lady Browning made no mention of what had transpired. He’d tested her, also. He’d found out she was in dire financial straits that had to be resolved soon or else she’d be off to debtors prison, not a nice alternative for her. His wealth allowed him the luxury of taking advantage of other’s financial misfortunes.

“What brings this surprise visit to us, Lord Storr?”

“As much as I love to feast my eyes on Mary, this would be better in private, if you don’t mind.” He would leave it to Lady Browning to convince Mary to his intentions. He knew she’d have no problem when he made his offer.

“It’s good to see you, Lord Storr. I’ll go into the kitchen and help.” Mary wasn’t sure whether she was glad to leave or not. His kiss and passionate embrace scared her or excited her. It happening in front of her mother made it more forbidden, almost naughty.

Hubert waited until she was out of the room. He turned to Lady Browning. “I’m a man of few words. Mary enamored me at Prince Michael’s ball and that is difficult to do. I lost my wife a year ago and never thought I’d feel this way again.”

“I can see that you are passionate about her, Lord Storr. And she is the same with you. She didn’t tell me that, but I see it when she is with you.” Was this about to make my dreams come true and my financial problems history?

“There is the problem of the difference in age between us, but that is what I love about her. It’s her innocence. She still is innocent, isn’t she, Lady Browning?” He had to be sure before he went any farther with her.

“Yes, she is innocent in the ways of men. She’s had some beaus, but she was able to fend off their fruitless attempts. She has a way with boys but not with men. She wants to save her innocence for her wedding night.”

“It’s a noble ambition for her to save her innocence for her wedding night but not very practical. I want to make Mary my wife and take care of you and her in the manner that you should be accustomed to. You can give up this hovel and move into my castle. You’d have your own wing, Lady Browning, so as to not interfere with our marriage.”

She cut him off. “That is so kind and considerate of you, Lord Storr. The two of you will make such a wonderful union.” Lady Browning could see her life in the future, all of her wants and desires fulfilled. This was her destiny.

“But…” He stopped her before she went too far. “I cannot go into this union without reassurances that it will be everything that I expect and demand.”

“She’ll pledge her love to you, Lord Storr. Don’t worry?”

“You are an experienced woman, Lady Browning. You know the desires of men, not boys. I cannot be expected to take Mary on a pledge of love and find myself disappointed on our wedding night when I expect to take her innocence. It would be devastating for both of us. I cannot put her through that with a clear conscious.”

“No, she knows not the wants of an experienced man. But, I am sure with your skills, you can teach her the ways to pleasure a man in the way you desire.”

“Yes, I will teach her, but it is not obvious to me that she’ll take the lessons to heart. Will she submit without regard?”

Lady Browning knew where this conversation was going, just not how. She’d make it work one way or another. She’d convince Mary of the need to obey. “What do you suggest?”

“Elizabet had seen the ways of the Hellfire Club the other day. It has been around for a hundred years, and it knows the ways of men. I suggest that you and Mary come next Monday night. It is there I can test Mary’s resolve.” He saw a puzzled look on Lady Browning’s face. “You do know about the Hellfire Club? I’m sure Elizabet told her mother everything.”

“Yes, of course she did. I have a bond with my daughters, a very tight bond.” That explained the marks on her buttocks. She’d heard of the Hellfire Club and their fondness for whipping and canings or any type of corporal punishment. It required absolute submission and bondage was the norm. “Would you expect that Mary give up her innocence at that time?”

“I would expect Mary to give me anything I desire without hesitation.” He could see her thinking, but he knew that she had no choice. Lady Browning would submit and so would Mary.

“It would be just you?”

“The Hellfire Club is a private club of members only, but they all have rights and privileges. I’d expect to have some of my close friends there as well as my father. He’d want to meet you since he has a wing at my castle also. He is getting on with age, but he is still a virile man.”

“I’d have your assurances that you’d marry my daughter after this test of her resolve and take care of us?”

“As long as you and Mary perform to my expectations that would be my promise to you and her. You can move in any time after that, and I’ll settle your affairs.”

“I think we have an understanding. Send your carriage for us on Monday at seven.” Then, all of a sudden, she thought of Elizabet. She never mentioned her with Lord Storr. “I forgot my daughter, Elizabet, in this understanding.”

“From what I know of Elizabet, she has her own plans, though she might not know them yet, but I’m sure that Lady Oates will enlighten her. It’s been a pleasure having this discussion with you, Lady Browning, and coming to this mutually beneficial union. I look forward to seeing you Monday. Would you mind if I say good bye to Mary?”

“No, not at all. She’s in the kitchen. Tell the cook, Cinderella, to leave you alone.”

Hubert didn’t expect to see Mary doing any work in the kitchen, she wasn’t of that persuasion. She would do her best work beneath a man where she could excel. There was another woman over the stove. “Leave us,” he brushed her aside without looking up at her and she left quickly as though she was a scared mouse.

“Stand up, Mary. Your mother has news for you, very happy news. I’ll see you Monday night with high expectations. You are so beautiful and I cannot wait.” He drew her close to him until his prick rubbed against her mound. The conversation and the upcoming performance on Monday made his prick raging hard. He kissed her fully once again, but this time, his hand came up and cupped one of her generous breasts and fondled it until he found the swell of her nipple. He pinched it until he got a soft moan from her lips and that made his prick jerk pleasurably against her mound. Her hands hung limply at her sides. He liked that.

Her face was flushed when he broke the kiss and moved away from her, but she could still feel his prick as though it never left her mound, jumping excitedly at her touch. She never let a man do that before. Then, he did something more unbelievable. He took her hand, and before she could react, he pushed it into the front of his trousers. There was no mistake that it was his prick in the palm of her hand.

“Curl your fingers around it. My prick craves the touch of your soft hand.” He wasn’t surprised when her fingers curled around it, but she also stroked it tenderly up and down. “Yes, that’s good, Mary.” He hated to pull away from the pleasure of her hand, but he’d save her until Monday. “Good bye, Mary.”

“Good bye, Lord Storr,” but her voice trembled as she said his name. Her hand curled at her side as though her hand still clung to his prick. She waited until she heard the front door close then rushed into the living room to find her mother. She had to know. But she was nowhere to be found. She heard noises from Elizabet’s room, her mother must be there.

Lady Browning knocked on Elizabet’s door, but opened it before she could respond. She closed it and looked at her on the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Hellfire Club?”

She blushed as soon as the words were out in the open. “I thought you knew.”

“I suspected after seeing the red marks on your body. Are you okay?”

“Yes. It wasn’t too bad.”

“Not too bad or did you enjoy it?”

She blushed deeper, but she couldn’t lie to her mother again. “I’m ashamed that I enjoyed it.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Elizabet. It is better that you enjoy than endure. What about Lady Oates? Did you with her?” She wasn’t sure how to put it.

Elizabet was confused at first, and then, it suddenly became clear. “No, it’s not like that. Not with her.”

“Then what?”

“She prepared me and took part in making me submit.”

“What will you do if she calls upon you again?”

“I hope she will, and I’ll submit once again. I have so much to learn.”

“My daughter is so grown up and a woman. I’m proud of you.” She hugged her before she left. As she went downstairs to find Mary, she knew that she’d have to be like Lady Oates. She’d guide Mary into submission. Mary was waiting for her impatiently in the living room. “Sit down, Mary. We need to have a discussion.”

Her mother laid out the truth before her. They were almost broke and months away from being thrown into debtors prison and face the shame of all those that knew them. Her mother was desperate and that is why she’d consented to such a plan. Mary couldn’t believe what she was expected to do.

“Lord Storr will marry you, and we can live in his castle. I’ll have a private wing, just as his father has so as to not interfere in your marriage. He will take care of all our debts and provide for us fitting of his station in life. He loves you, but he requires proof of your acceptance to him.”

Mary wasn’t surprised that he’d marry her. All of her beaus would do that to get her innocence. She couldn’t say that it would be bad to marry him. He had a way about him and her. He did things to her that should shock her senses of morality, but she let him without any reservations. It was his power over her that scared her. She liked it too much. She trembled at his bold touch and grew aroused when he made her stroke his prick in the kitchen as though they were already lovers. “He’ll have his proof on our wedding night.”

“You are innocent in the way of men, Mary.”

“Nonsense,” she boldly barged into her mother’s words. “I’ve had to fend off many beaus that wanted more than I would give.” Then, she boldly told her mother. “I’ve stroked many pricks to keep them happy. I know what a boy wants from me.”

“I agree; you know what a boy wants but not a man. Elizabet found out this week when she went to Prince Michael’s private party. It is there that men take their pleasures from women in any manner they want, no matter how perverse or degrading. In fact, the more perverse, the better they enjoy it.”

“What do you mean?” Elizabet never told her anything about that night.

“It is the Hellfire Club, started by the king a hundred years ago and still goes to this day. Women are trained to submit to men in all manners. Nothing is forbidden. There is a fine line between pain and pleasure.”

Mary couldn’t believe Elizabet would consent to such a thing. She knew she was no longer innocent, but this was very different than making love to a man. “I can’t do that,” she boldly defied her mother.

“Only you can save this family, Mary. Your innocence will pay the price for our wellbeing in the future. You can have a life of leisure and wealth, or shame and prison for your family.”

“Why doesn’t he take my innocence in his bed before we are wed? Why at the Hellfire Club?”

“You will perform in front of others, including myself and his father. It is the only way. It is the way of men that have power over women. Elizabet did that and found pleasure. You can, too.”

The vivid images in her head sent tremors through her body. She could see Lord Storr making her pose in the most obscene and imaginative way for all to see. His prick would take her for all to see, her virgin blood spilled for his pleasure and that of others. Her inexperience didn’t let her imagine all the perverse acts that men could commit on women. But, if Elizabet could love it, why couldn’t I? Mary couldn’t deny that something in the way that Lord Storr made her submit sent her virgin body trembling in unfulfilled lust. She found pleasure when she did nothing to stop him. Her mother said the word, but Mary was afraid of it. Submission.

“Will you do it, Mary?” Lady Browning had to push her into it. Once Mary said the words, it would calm her, knowing the decision was made and final.

She saw the pleading look on her mother’s face. She’d taken care of her all her life, marrying men in order that Mary and Elizabet had a good life. It had to be hard for her to do that, but nothing as hard as it was now. Her mother couldn’t keep this up, and only Mary could prevent it. There was no other way, she convinced herself. “I’ll do it.” At least her mother would be there to protect her.

“Thank you, Mary. You make me so proud, both of you. Like your sister, you’ll find pleasure where you least expect it. I’m off to find you a dress to match the expectations. I want any man that sees you to desire you.”

Cinderella smiled from the kitchen when she eavesdropped on the conversation. She knew that Prince Michael had a lot to do with what happened. She couldn’t wait until Monday, because she knew that she would attend with Prince Michael, just as they did with Elizabet. With Mary being innocent, it should make it very interesting. Cinderella would start going to the barn tonight and every night to call out Straparola’s name until he answered. She knew he wouldn’t let her down, though there would be a price to pay. But, she was willing to pay that price for her revenge.

It was Saturday night that Straparola appeared after Cinderella called his name.

“Yes, of course, I’ll take care of you Monday, Cinderella.” He already knew of the plan.

“I thought you would know. You know everything.”

“After they leave Monday night, come out to the barn. It won’t take long, and I’ll have you on your way to meet your Prince Charming,” and then, he added, “and to get your revenge. I hope it’s worth it.”

“I don’t regret anything Straparola.”

* * * *

“I’ll get Mary dressed tonight. It’s a special night for us, so I want to make sure everything is perfect.” Lady Browning had bought a special dress for Mary, a very sexy and revealing dress that would inspire Lord Storr to fulfill his promise. Nothing must go wrong tonight. “Off with you now, Cinderella.”

Cinderella was glad; she’ll go to the barn sooner, knowing that it would take longer than Straparola said. Cinderella didn’t want to be late and miss a single moment of Mary’s shame and degradation. She stood in the barn in her shabby dress, knowing that she’d soon be transformed into a princess. She turned when a breeze blew by her, even though the barn door was closed. The lantern flickered for a second and then blew brightly to light up the barn. In front of her stood Straparola, not the shabbily dressed beggar, but the well-dressed gentlemen that he often transformed into.

“Are you ready for your night of debauchery?”

“I’m ready to enjoy a night with Prince Michael.” She preferred to look at it that way. It made her more comfortable with herself.

“Your carriage already awaits you; all I have to do is get you dressed so Prince Michael will be pleased.” He tapped his wand on the top of her head, shoulders and hips. The cloud rose up from her feet until it engulfed her body.

Cinderella was shocked when the cloud disappeared and she found herself standing half naked in front of Straparola. She had on the lovely white lacey stocking that went thigh high with the pink ribbons and a delicate pink silk undergarment with pink bows to hold it together, but her arms were clenched over her naked breasts to hide them from Straparola’s eyes.

“OOOPPPPS,” Straparola said with a smile. “Something must have gone wrong.” He looked at her as she clenched her full bosom in her hands, but she had trouble hiding the bountiful flesh. “Put your hands at your sides,” he ordered her as the smile left his face.

She knew it wasn’t an accident that she was naked to the waist, but it was still difficult to obey his command. Her arms slowly released her breasts and hung obediently at her sides. Straparola stared at her heaving bosom as she struggled to fill her lungs. Her upper body was flushed in spite of the cool night air. She looked at her breasts, the tips of them heavy and swollen. She didn’t move as his hands slowly slid under the soft underbelly of her breasts, and she moaned loudly when his thumbs raced softly over her swollen tips. It felt as if they’d explode.

Straparola looked down at her feet. “Look, there’s a nice comfortable pillow on the ground, Cinderella. Why don’t you kneel down?” He released her breasts hesitantly, but his hands went to her naked shoulders as he pressed down on them. “On your knees, Cinderella,” it was no longer a question but a command.

Cinderella knew what he wanted as payment, kneeling at his feet as his hands worked on his belt and opened the buttons of his trousers. They slid to his ankle as he reached for his undergarment and slid it down until his familiar prick stood out in front of him. It bounced at a sixty-degree angle, up and down, as though it had a mind of its own. It stood proudly only inches from her mouth. Her feet and hands had stroked it to orgasm, but this time, he had other ideas. She had tasted Prince Michael’s foul seed. Even though it aroused her to orgasm in her solo masturbation when the wet handkerchief was in her mouth and invaded her taste buds with its foul taste, it was more the submission than the taste of his seed that drove her pleasure. The dark-red head of his prick already glistened in the light of the lantern. The lantern was so bright as if it wanted to expose her completely to the degradation of kneeling to suck his prick.

“Take it in your hand and begin to lick my prick, Cinderella. You’ll have to hurry to make me cum so you can meet Prince Michael in time. I’ll instruct you in pleasuring me with your mouth.”

She kneeled before a naked man as her hand reached out to grip his prick. She gripped the shaft tightly and it jerked and shuddered the minute her hand touched it. She held it out in front of her, only inches from her mouth. She gripped it tighter as she blew across the head of his prick.

His prick came alive at the thought of being in her hot, tight mouth as soon as he felt her hot breath blow over the head. Her fingers curled tightly around his thick shaft with such forcefulness, but she needed it when her wet tongue slowly ran over the head of his prick with such confidence.

She cringed as her tongue gathered up the dried juices on the head of his prick and the slightest bit soiled her mouth with the salty taste. The head was smooth, and the skin drawn tight, not like the shaft. She knew what she had to do, yet that didn’t make it any easier. Her tongue explored the head, including the thick ridge around it, but she got a gasp out of Straparola when the tip of her tongue fluttered over the hole in the tip and drew out his seed. It was hot and thick, and as soon as her tongue hit the hole, it leaked out profusely. Her mouth grew thick with the acrid taste of his seed.

“Hold the shaft and put the head in your mouth.” He watched as her pink lips opened up wide to accept the big head of his prick. “OOOHHH,” he couldn’t believe the pleasure he felt when her soft lips enclosed his prick as her hot, wet tongue began to lick the head. “Stroke the shaft while you suck my prick,” he instructed her.

She ran her hand up and down the shaft, just as she did with him and Prince Michael, knowing that she’d done it right, she’d made them both cum by her hand. She took a bit more of his prick in her mouth, her tongue tireless as it lapped at his prick. She felt more drops of his seed bathe her tongue with the thick crème, but she knew there would be much more before she was finished. She felt him reach down with one hand to fondle her bare breast. That is why he had her half naked, so he could tease at her nipples, though she didn’t mind. She did as the description of this act said; she sucked in, drawing more of his prick in her mouth. It slid over her tongue as it filled her mouth with his hard, hot prick.

He released her breast as his eager fingers found the sides of her head. He began to move her gently back and forth, her tight lips slid erotically over his prick as her tongue worked him into a sexual frenzy. He wouldn’t last much longer. “Squeeze my testicles gently,” he warned her.

Her other hand went between his legs and cupped the hairy ball sack. The skin was wrinkled, but she could feel the two heavy balls float around inside. She captured them both and cradled them in her hand, and she began a gentle clenching as her mouth sucked harder. She was rewarded with more of his crème; this time, she felt it spurt out as if he had an orgasm, but his prick was still rock hard and his hands guided her head back and forth.

“You’re almost done, Cinderella. You’re doing such a great job. Keep it up,” he encouraged her as the cum built up in his balls. He would’ve liked to make her swallow his prick in her throat, but he wanted to make sure that she didn’t find the task too distasteful. It was her first time to swallow a man’s spunk.

She could feel his prick growing thicker and longer, and it barely fit through her lips as they stretched tightly around the shaft. She could feel every bump, ridge and vein on his prick as it passed over her soft lips.

“Yes, yesss, fastteer; I’m almostttt therrrre,” he moaned as his hands moved her head more urgently. “AAAAWWWWWW!”

She felt his muscles grow rigid and his hands on her head pushed too hard into it, but she understood his pleasure overcame his senses. Then, she felt it, but it was too late. His prick jerked and swelled in her mouth, and then it spewed his seed with such power. It flooded her mouth with the volume, covering her tongue, teeth and gums with the thick crème like a blanket. It refused to mix with her spit, spoiling her mouth with the acrid, salty crème. She struggled to breathe through her nose, as it was assailed with the smell of his seed. While she tried to contend with the first spurt, he did it again, not as much but with the same power. Her fingers continued to work over his testicles in spite of the fact she knew it was her hand that milked the seed from them. She had to please him with her mouth.

“Take it all, Cinderella. Don’t let it escape; you’ll have to swallow it all before you are finished.” It felt so good each time he spurted in her mouth. Her face grimaced as he flooded her mouth, but her tongue continued to lavish such attention on his prick. He cried out with a third spurt, and she sucked harder as though she tried to drag the spunk from his balls. He accommodated her, able to get a fourth spurt before he was dry. He could see her cheeks swell up as she tried to contain his profuse cum, and then, he saw her throat move, knowing she began to swallow. He held up her head so he could see her eyes as she gulped and gurgled to handle all his cum. He’d finished cumming, but he kept his prick in her mouth, and she made no effort to spit it out.

His seed refused to slide down her gullet easily. The thick crème dripped slowly down as she continued to swallow until most of it was in her belly, the warm seed made her belly groan. His prick began to shrink in her mouth, but it was still formidable. Cinderella didn’t know what to do, so she left his prick in her mouth.

“Suck and lick it a bit more to get all my spunk off it and swallow it.”

She finished the repugnant task of licking his prick clean and spit it out. Her lips were still covered in his thick crème, and her tongue was bathed in it. She wanted to spit it out but that would be disrespectful. He helped her up, and he pulled up his pants. With a tap of his wand once again, this time with purpose, she had a lovely, sexy dress on to cover her body yet still entice her handsome prince.

“Your carriage awaits; don’t forget midnight,” he warned her once again.





Chapter 6





Mary’s Chaste Performance


Mary should be more nervous than she was, but over the last few days, she reconciled herself to the fact of what she’d have to do. She had to protect her mother. It was time for her to be a woman.

She sat in the luxurious carriage in her new dress. It was a blue sequin dress that clung to her figure, not like a ballroom gown. She wished she had larger breasts, because her mother refused to let her wear a corset that would thrust up her smaller breasts and make them look bigger. Under the dress, she wore the finest silk undergarment that only covered her from the waist to her crotch. It had half-dozen black bows on the blue undergarment that kept it strategically together. If any ribbon was opened, the garment would start to open up. On her legs, she wore the finest blue stockings that went to her thighs with the same black ribbons, but they were more for show. That disturbed her a bit as she knew that would mean others would see them. In order for that to happen, she’d have to take off her dress. She didn’t know how many people would be there tonight but hoped it was relatively few. This would be hard enough to do in front of her mother and Lord Storr, never mind complete strangers. Mary always expected that sex would be private between lovers, not a public spectacle for all to see.

The front of the prince’s castle was empty and desolate, not like the ball when it was full of life and celebration. She hoped that was a good sign that many wouldn’t be here. Then, it dawned on her that this took place at Prince Michael’s castle. Would he be there when Lord Storr takes my innocence?

“Come, Mary, you look ravishing.” She hurried her in to make sure she didn’t change her mind. Then, she reminded her of their fate. “It’s up to you, Mary, to save our family and secure our future. Lord Storr is a man, not a boy. He’ll want much more from you, and you need to indulge all his desires and wants. He will instruct you, just follow his demands.”

“Yes, Mother, I won’t let you down.” She took a deep breath as they were led to a room down a long, empty hall, but she could hear voices on the other side of the door, and they weren’t just men’s. She could hear women’s voices. She hadn’t thought of that. What woman would want to watch such things? The room was brightly lit with candelabras on the wall, but it also had three large chandeliers that had to have two dozen candles on each one. It wasn’t dark and mysterious, as she expected. She’d be displayed vividly for all to see. The room was lavishly furnished with the finest English furniture; small tables with six chairs were all around the room. There were three settees made of the finest red velvet and a dozen chairs covered the room, but most were big enough for two, and many were occupied. There was a man and a woman in each one. It looked like most of the men that attended brought a woman, though many women looked too young to be wives, yet they weren’t daughters for they openly fondled the older man next to them. There were no men her age; all of them were about the same age as Lord Storr, all except the elderly gentleman that had to be his father. He was much older.

“Welcome, my future wife.” Hubert rushed over to Mary, his prick rearing to get started. He’d been hard for hours at the thought of tonight. He pulled her away from Lady Browning and immediately took charge of her. With his hand around her waist, he led her and her mother to his father. “Lady Browning, Mary, this is my father, Lord Edward Storr. Have a seat with him, Lady Browning,” leaving no doubt where she’d sit. The chair was big enough for two.

“Lord Storr, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope you don’t mind,” as she sat with him.

“I insist, Lady Browning, as we will become very close soon enough. It’s always better when it’s intimate.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she had to be respectful to him. There was no way she could sit without their hips touching. He was much older than she was. She was barely older than his son. Yet, she couldn’t deny that he was handsome in a distinguished sort of way.

“Come with me, Mary. We are about to begin; I’m just waiting for the last guest.” He took her to the front of the room. All the guests’ chairs were gathered around in a circle, which left a lot of room in the center.

Mary looked as the door opened, and everyone stood up as Prince Michael walked in. Her arm was hooked to his. It was Ella, the woman he met at the ball and took a liking to. It must have flourished into something quickly. No wonder why her mother was desperate, that avenue with her or Elizabet was gone.

“Good evening, Lord Storr. I recognize Mary from the ball, though she is much more beautiful than my memory serves me. Do you remember Mary, Ella?”

“Yes, I do. She looks very ravishing tonight. I expect a woman eager to appease a demanding man would arouse her.” Ella still never understood why they didn’t recognize her. After all, it was only a mask that covered her eyes. Ella expected it had something to do with Straparola’s powers.

“Did I mention that you look ravishing tonight, also, Ella?” Michael didn’t want Ella to feel that she was forgotten.

“Are you making sure that I’m eager to please you tonight? Have I ever failed you?”

“You surprise me each time, Ella.” They sat down so it could begin.

Lord Storr stood in back of Mary, as all eyes were on her. His hands went around her waist and held her tight.

He felt her trembling body as she stood there. “You’re in good hands, Mary. Just obey, and everything will be fine. I wouldn’t have to punish you much,” he warned her. His hands slowly slid up her sides until he found her breasts. He was glad they were unencumbered, not that big and young enough so they didn’t need support. His fingers dug into them.

She couldn’t breathe when his hands slid up and cupped her breasts as if they were alone, but everyone watched his large hands engulf her small breasts and squeeze them tight. It should be shame she felt, but her nipples said something different. Her breasts might be small, but she could never stop her nipples from growing big and hard with the least amount of encouragement. His eager fingers found the growing hardness and squeezed them, but that only inspired greater hardness. He began to pinch them harder, and then, he twisted them in his powerful fingers. She started with a moan, but it turned to a groan when his fingers grew too harsh.

“Am I squeezing your nipples too hard, Mary?” He said it loudly for all to hear.

She didn’t want to provoke him already, so she lied. “No, I like that,” she said for all to hear. What will they think of me? He squeezed harder, but the pain turned to something else when her nipples grew too big and easy targets as if she begged him to abuse her. He released her nipples and squeezed her breasts one more time, then he deserted them, but it grew worse. He began to open the buttons that held her dress closed. He started at the top and slowly worked his way down. Her hands hung at her sides clenched in fists as he began to undress her. She knew she’d be naked in front of everyone soon enough. She’d never been naked in front of anyone before, not even her doctor. This would be much worse. He slowly pulled the dress open when he got to her waist, and she stood there frozen as he slid it off her shoulders and down her arms until it hung at her waist. She was thankful for the silk undergarment, but it did little to hide her swollen nipples. They pushed out the thin garment lewdly.

“Ask me to take off your dress, Mary,” he whispered in her ear.

She turned to look at him to see if he was serious, but there was no smirk on his face. She turned flushed as she said those words. “Please, Lord Storr. Take off my dress.” Her voice trembled as she said it.

His hands slid around her body again, but this time, he made short work of opening up the few buttons that held her dress to her body. It was only seconds before you could hear the swish of soft fabric as it slid down her legs to fall around her ankles.

She shivered, not in cold, but humiliation as she stood in the sexy undergarment and the black stockings on her legs. They made her look more naked, highlighting the white flesh of her thighs in contrast to the black stockings. Lord Storr kneeled at her feet, and his hand held an ankle and pulled her leg up so he could take the dress out from her legs. He threw it on the floor behind him. He went behind her, standing back a bit, and she could feel his eyes burn on her backside. The undergarment barely covered her crotch, and she was naked beneath it.

“Stand in front of Lord Tyrrel.” Hubert pointed to him. As soon as he heard his name, he sat forward in the chair, eager for Mary to visit him.

He was a bit older than Lord Storr and less fit and handsome, but the young woman next to him treated him as though he was the most handsome suitor she ever had. Mary felt strange to walk the six steps to him in only her undergarment, but not a single eye tore away from her as she walked. She didn’t stop until she was within the grasp of his outstretched hands. She knew he’d touch her, but she couldn’t do anything about it. His hands started on her hips but quickly moved to her backside.

“Turn around; I want to see that lovey ass,” his hands eager as they slowly smoothed over her firm cheeks and soft undergarment. He felt her buttocks clench in response to his touch. He slapped one cheek. “Relax your cheeks and let me have my way,” he ordered her.

With her back to him, at least, she didn’t have to look at anyone’s face except for Lord Storr. He gave her a firm stare when she tightened her cheeks, and she struggled to keep them relaxed as his fingers became more demanding on her buttocks. He yanked them apart harshly but then released them.

“Part those milky white thighs, Mary.” It took her a moment, but she spread her legs but not very wide. He didn’t care. He pushed his hand between her thighs to make her spread them wider. He loved the feel of her soft, silky thighs and teased his fingers all the way to her crotch, but he didn’t touch her quim. He tickled close to it.

“Turn around.” She did, but she’d learned. She parted her legs but not lewdly. His hand returned, but this time, his fingers brushed lightly over her pronounced bush. He got a gasp from her lips from his intimate touch, but she didn’t cringe or move away. He got a better response when his fingers became more demanding as they dug into the puffy lips of her quim.

She’d expected that Lord Storr would touch her quim but not a stranger. His hand took liberties with her as she stood half naked in front of him, but now, it was too much for her to handle. She struggled not to run away as his fingers pinched the lips of her quim. He suddenly stopped and sat back down.

“Come back over here, Mary,” Hubert commanded her.

She moved next to him, but then, she felt strange. She could still feel Lord Tyrrel’s fingers on her quim, but it wasn’t pain or humiliation. It was as if she missed them, and she felt wetness between her legs. The same wetness she got when she stroked herself. She knew she wouldn’t have the undergarment on much longer. This came quicker than she expected.

Hubert moved behind her; this time, he pressed up against her ass so she could feel his erection. He rubbed from side to side as it grew from her touch. “I’m going to slip off your undergarment, Mary,” he said loudly. “We want to see your virginal body.”

She knew once she was naked, it wouldn’t be much longer before she lost her innocence. She felt his hands touch her naked waist, and then, fingers slid into the waistband of her undergarment. She could feel his fingers opening up bows, as though he were an expert, until he slowly began to peel it down over her hips. She shuddered as the soft fabric ran over the fine hairs of her bush, as if it set her on fire. He kneeled behind her as she felt the shameful hot breath blow on her naked backside. Her undergarment slid down her legs, and he eagerly pulled it from her feet. When he stood up, she was naked except for the stockings. It was more shameful with just them on; it highlighted all her white naked body in contrast to the black stockings. Yet, she stood up tall, her back arched and her small breasts pushed out to accentuate them. Her hands were at her sides, and she didn’t forget. Her legs were parted. She could feel the cool air in the room blow between them. No one she looked at saw her eyes; their stares were concentrated on her sex. She expected Lord Storr to pose her obscenely for all to see her most intimate body in close detail. But he didn’t. It almost disappointed her.

“Can you help me, Lord Tyrrel?”

This had been planned, and he walked next to them with a pillow. He put it in front of her.

She looked down at the pillow and knew what it was for, but she didn’t know why Lord Tyrrel stayed next to her. Lord Storr wouldn’t make me do Lord Tyrrel, would he? She was grateful when Lord Storr began to take off his clothes. He did it without the least bit of shame in front of everyone. Had he done this before? She watched him, the first time she saw a man undress in front of her. She was correct, his body was firm for a man of his age, but her eyes were glued to his trousers. He took them off, and his erection pushed out his undergarments. She wasn’t surprised that there were wet spots, not after the way he rubbed his erection on her backside. He stood there proudly while he lowered his undergarment and kicked it aside and put one hand around his prick. His prick was different than the boys she had stroked to satisfy them. They were both long, but the boys lacked the girth that Lord Tyrrel’s prick had. He stroked it as he looked into her eyes.

“Get on your knees, Mary. Have your ever sucked a prick before?”

She was humiliated by the questions, as though she was experienced in the matter of men. “No, Sir,” she answered humbly without an explanation.

“As long as you take to it with enthusiasm, I have no fear you will be experienced soon enough. I’ll give you ample opportunities to gain the skill necessary to please me.”

Mary had never considered taking a boy’s prick in her mouth, the thought of tasting the seed of a man was too disgusting to contemplate. Yet, here she was as she knelt at his feet, his prick held out by his hand only inches from her face.

“Push your knees out, Mary,” Lord Tyrrel ordered her, but his hands eagerly slipped between her legs and pushed them out. “Spread them wider, open up, Mary.” He saw everyone stare between her legs, wishing he could see her virgin quim open up, but he’d soon be stroking it.

She felt her virgin lips open up slightly when her knees were spread wide. Lord Tyrrel took such liberties with her, fearing why he was next to her when it was Lord Storr’s prick that she’d be taking in her mouth.

“Hold still, Mary,” Lord Tyrrel warned her as he pulled her hands behind her back. He felt her muscles struggle for a second, but then, she surrendered. He took the leather straps and placed them around her slim wrists and buckled them tight, trapping them together behind her back. But as planned, her hands and fingers would be free.

Hubert put his hand under Mary’s chin to raise it up until her eyes stared into his. He saw her panic when Barnaby tied her wrists. “I won’t need your hands, just your mouth.” The panic soon disappeared from her eyes. She wet her lips and that made his prick jerk so hard that he could barely hold it. “Stick out your tongue.” When her pink tongue pushed out far and her mouth opened wide, he moved forward and gently lowered his iron-hard erection down on her tongue. He had trouble controlling his prick when he felt her hot, wet tongue touch it. “Begin to lick it like ice cream.”

The head was a deep red, almost purple with blood, and the drops of his seed that leaked out stained it as it glistened in the bright light. The moment his prick hit her tongue, another drop leaked out, thick and milky white. She felt Lord Tyrrel kneel behind as his hands slid around her naked waist. She didn’t know how or when, but there was no mistaking that it was his naked prick that rubbed over her backside. She feared with her knees spread so wide, not only the lips of her quim were open, but also the crack in her backside was spread wide, and no amount of clenching could defend her. Her hands bound behind her were so close to his prick, but she had to worry about the prick that sat heavily on her tongue. Her tongue began to move as Lord Storr held his prick so she could visit every spot on it. He made sure that she paid special attention to the head, making her flutter her tongue over the hole until it spewed out more of his thick crème. The pungent seed flooded her mouth from just a few drops. She explored the head of his prick, smooth, but wet with his seed. The shaft was different, her tongue found every bump, ridge and vein. She feared having to lick his testicles, but he grew too eager for her mouth.

“Take the head in and work it over with your tongue, and I’ll reward you with some of my jism.” He was able to release his prick as soon as her mouth took control of it. Her lips tightened just beneath the head to trap it, and then, her tongue swished across the very tip, and he cried softly in pleasure as he squirted prematurely in her mouth. He saw her face scowl as his jism shot into her mouth, but her tongue never stopped moving.

She gagged when he shot in her mouth, knowing it wasn’t his orgasm, but that didn’t make it any easier to contend with all of his seed in her mouth. It refused to mix with her spit and coated every inch of her mouth. She continued to do as he required of her.

“Take more of my prick deeper into your mouth.” He began to guide her head. He watched as her lips stretched wide around the shaft of his prick and her cheeks hollowed as she literally sucked him in. He didn’t tell her to do this, she did it instinctively.

His prick began to fill her mouth as she moved back and forth; her tongue never stopped washing it down. He pushed with his hips sideways until her cheek bulged out on one side as if he tried to drive it through, but then, he was back to shoving it straight in. It slid through her lips and over her wet, slippery tongue to go to the back of her mouth. He was too big for her little mouth as he slammed the head into her throat as if he was trying to drive it in. But, that was impossible, his prick was too big and her throat too small.

Lord Tyrrel began to run his hands between her legs, first caressing her thighs as he neared her virgin quim. Her body shuddered the first time he touched her quim, but she never lost a beat as she sucked Hubert’s prick. She might not have done this before, but she was a natural.

She felt Lord Tyrrel begin to stroke her quim. His fingers were questing but lightly rubbed her slit until they pressed deeper and found the soft, wet inner lips. She wouldn’t be able to pull away. Lord Storr must have planned this. Lord Tyrrel would struggle to keep her knees spread, she wanted to shut them and trap his finger so he stroke her until she had an orgasm, sure that it would be at the same time Lord Storr did in her mouth. She didn’t know what she’d do with all his seed, but the thought of her having an orgasm did entice her. She never expected to get any pleasure from this night. She thought it would all be about pleasuring Lord Storr. His fingers began to rub harder, pushing aside her lips and teasing at the soft inner flesh. It was difficult for Mary to do both, receive pleasure and give it, torn between which one to do more.

Lord Tyrrel loved to stroke her wet, soft quim, and he could tell that he aroused her, but his effort wouldn’t go unrewarded. She didn’t fight him as he moved in closer and his prick jerked in such excitement when it was her hands and fingers it made contact with.

“Stroke his prick with your fingers, Mary. We’ll all get our pleasure from this.” Lord Storr’s thrusts in her mouth became harder and deeper, but he wouldn’t shove it down her throat. He’d save that for another day and another lesson.

Now, she was stroking two pricks, her fingers curled around Lord Tyrrel’s hard prick. It was difficult to stroke it with her wrists bound, but she soon learned how to adapt, especially when his skilled fingers found her pleasure button. She pushed back in surprise from his touch, but it only inspired her fingers on his prick. His fingers ran back and forth over her button, teasing it as she sucked Lord Storr’s prick. Her mouth was flooded with his foul seed, but it no longer bothered her anymore, though she still didn’t like the taste. Her fingers expertly stroked Lord Tyrrel’s prick, just as she had done so many times with her beaus, but it was nothing like this. She kneeled submissively, a prick in her mouth, another in her hands, while she was being masturbated so expertly, all while a large group of strangers watched this happen.

“Yes, yes, Mary, you’re so good. Your mouth will inspire my seed soon enough. Can you feel Lord Tyrrel pleasuring you? Hold it until all of us can cum at the same time.”

It didn’t take long before that happened. No one person orchestrated it, it just occurred at the same time as if it was destined. Mary didn’t know what started it, it happened so fast. Did I have an orgasm and that made Lord Storr spurt his seed in my mouth, or was it the spurt of seed in my mouth that made me orgasm? Lord Tyrrel joined in as Mary felt her hands and fingers covered in his hot seed as he spurted on her. She never let up, continuing to stroke his prick as he spewed generously all over her. But, it was Lord Storr that spent liberally in her mouth. It was so much that she couldn’t handle it. She coughed and gagged, and his seed ran down her chin, but his prick never pulled from her mouth as he continued to shoot such powerful jets. She had no choice, her mouth almost blocked and her cheeks bulged to hold all his seed. She had to swallow it, but it was difficult, his seed so thick that it refused to go down. In spite of his foul seed in her mouth, it never stopped the orgasm that raced through her body. She couldn’t believe that three people could have orgasms at the same time.

Their orgasms finally died, but Lord Storr’s prick still sat in her mouth. She began to pull away to let it escape her lips, but she ran her tongue over the head to extract the last precious drops of his seed before his prick spilled out of her mouth.

“You exceeded my expectations, Mary. But, we’re just getting started. I’m going to enjoy putting my prick in your virgin quim and make you a woman.” He helped her up, but Lord Tyrrel was ready with the blindfold.

With her hands still behind her back, she couldn’t do anything as she was sealed in darkness. She stood and heard movement around her.

“I’m going to spin you and don’t stop until I tell you.” He began to spin her body around.

It was disconcerting, blindfolded and bound, unable to focus her eyes on anything stationary. It felt like everything was moving. Lord Storr continued to spin her around.

“I’m going to stop spinning you, but I want you to spin at least one more revolution before you stop.”

She felt him stop spinning her, difficult to make one more revolution as she began to stumble. Then, she stopped. When they took off the blindfold, she could see five men around her, but it wasn’t Lord Storr or Lord Tyrrel. Prince Michael was still seated, but the other five men all had their pricks out and stroked them. She found herself face to face with one man.

“Ah, Lord Archibald Gower, an excellent choice, Mary. As you can see, he is looking forward to it, also.”

She was confused until Lord Storr moved the pillow in front of Lord Gower.

“On your knees and suck his prick until he shoots in your mouth. You’ll drink it all down.”

She thought that sucking Lord Storr would end that, at least for now, but that wasn’t the case. She knelt down, her arms still bound as Lord Bower gripped her head in haste.

“Open your mouth, Mary,” Archibald said excitedly. A widower for five years and not as wealthy or handsome as the other lords, he couldn’t get or afford the pleasures of a young woman. His luck changed tonight.

His prick didn’t look as hard as Lord Storr’s, but it was still formidable. She opened her mouth and leaned forward as the head of his prick slid through her lips. She knew she had to perform, so she might as well get it over as fast as she could. He didn’t look like he’d take too long; all she had to cope with was another load of a man’s seed in her belly. She hoped it would just be one, not all of them.

Lord Storr was impressed as she took to sucking Lord Gower’s prick with such enthusiasm. He’d make her suck a few more men, but he was already getting hard once again, and he wanted to show off his cocksmanship to everyone. He’d take her innocence next. No one else would have that privilege.

Lady Browning watched silently as Mary was stripped naked. She took to her knees with such skills; she must have acquired the innate skills from her mother. Lady Browning was skilled in the art of fellatio. Lady Browning did feel a little remorse when Mary had to take another man in her mouth, but it looked like she overcame her fears and performed with such perfection. Mary didn’t take long before the lord shot his seed in her mouth, and she swallowed every drop and licked his prick clean before she spit it out. And she did it while bound. Did she get pleasure from the act, or was it being bound and forced to submit that inspired her?

There was no blindfold, only a line of men waiting before her as she kneeled submissively, bound with her mouth open and her tongue out as she waited for the next prick in her mouth. By the time she did all of the men, she’d acquired all the skills she’d need with her mouth. Or at least she thought she did. She couldn’t have realized that her throat could be put to use too.





Chapter 7





Mary’s Unexpected Pleasure


Mary couldn’t understand how the men still had erections, though not as hard as before they spent in her mouth. The boys she’d been with were satisfied and lost interest as soon as they had their pleasure. Men were a different breed, insatiable, and she feared that today. She looked at Lord Storr, his prick just as formidable as before. He’d got excited watching Mary take the other men’s pricks in her mouth. She saw the women that watched her, their faces flushed in excitement as their hands stroked the pricks of the men she’d sucked, all except for Prince Michael and Ella. She sat demurely next to him; her hands nowhere near his prick, though Mary could see it sprout in his trousers.

“She learned quickly the skills to pleasure a man with her mouth,” Ella casually mentioned to Prince Michael.

“Yes, by the time she got to the last one, she brought him off quickly.” His prick throbbed to be touched and more, but Ella didn’t do anything.

“I expect you’d love the same thing.”

“What man doesn’t love the feel of soft, wet lips wrapped around his prick.”

“Soon enough, my prince. I want to see Mary lose her innocence first, and then, you’ll get your reward.”

“Come here, Mary. Before you lose your innocence, let my friends have a taste of virgin pleasure.” Lord Storr brought her over to Lord Blankford. After all, he was the man that was dancing with Ella at the ball when Prince Michael cast his eyes on her to capture him. He deserved some consolation for losing such a prize.

This time, it was Lord Blankford that kneeled on a pillow before her, not the other way around. She knew what he’d do to her, though no man had ever had that pleasure with her before. She knew the pleasure that fingers could inspire in her, but she feared a mouth and tongue. She stood naked before him. She knew the words before he said them.

“Spread your legs, Mary, wider this time. Show Lord Blankford all your virgin treasures.”

She did as she was ordered. She wasn’t ready for this as two men took her at one time. Lord Storr moved to her side, and his hand fondled her breast, but soon, she saw his head move down, and she gasped in surprise when his mouth latched onto her nipple with such ecstasy. Her nipple swelled to such proportions as the powerful suction of his mouth drew it deep inside as his tongue swirled erotically around her nipple. His other hand reached over to pinch her other nipple until both swelled in pleasure to the depths of her breasts. Lord Blankford began to stroke her mound with soft, gentle touches that set her on fire. He tickled the fine hairs of her mound until they resonated deep between her legs, but she cried out when his fingers took possession of her quim to peel back her puffy lips. She felt his hot breath blow on her inner lips, shocking her at how exposed she was to all. Her cry was loud and desperate when she felt his tongue begin to explore her unprotected inner lips. She was so tender that it felt like his tongue was a file as it rasped up and down her spread slit. Yet, it took only seconds for her juices to flow freely as his tongue took to the task of gathering her arousal.

For a virgin, she grew aroused easily as his tongue explored every inch of her virgin quim. His tongue fluttered on her tight, dark hole, but he dare not even probe it, fearing the wrath of Lord Storr if he accidently took her hymen. Not even when he pulled her quim’s lips apart wide could dampen her cries of pleasure. But, the minute he found her pleasure button, her squeals of pleasure became higher pitched and that made him more eager to test her resolve. His tongue fluttered back and forth over it while her body shook.

Mary didn’t know how she resisted for so long. Their mouths drove her into a sexual frenzy, unable to control the burgeoning pleasure in her body. She already had one orgasm, now she had a second one building. She never expected to get any pleasure from this, yet her body responded. Was my mother correct when she told me that I didn’t understand men, only boys? Then, it was as though her world came crashing down. Both men stopped what they were doing while her body was at a fever pitch, wanting so badly to get her pleasure but left hanging unfulfilled.

“Turn around, Mary. Legs apart, wide.” Lord Storr encouraged her to turn around, while Lord Blankford stayed kneeling on the pillow and waited.

She was confused yet aroused as she turned around. Lord Storr made her bend at the waist until her head was waist high, only inches from his prick, which he held up proudly. She tried to turn around to see what was going on behind her, but Lord Storr was too eager, and she found her mouth breached eagerly by his prick. Fearing she’d disappoint him, she sucked his prick into her mouth as her tongue swirled around it once again. She felt two sharp slaps on her thighs, one on each side until she spread her legs wider. A finger tickled up between her legs and rubbed so close to her quim, but it was demanding fingers she felt on her buttocks as they dug into her tender flesh.

A sharp slap on her buttocks to remind her was all that was needed. “Relax your cheeks, Mary, or else,” Lord Blankford warned her. He heard her muffled cries as her mouth was filled with the demanding meat of Lord Storr’s prick.

She didn’t know what he wanted, but she felt what had to be a nose pushed between her cheeks. She struggled not to tighten them to keep it out, but she feared what he might do. The fingers on her buttocks pressed harder as they pulled her crack open until she felt a strain on her anus. She shuddered and cried out when she felt the hot breath of Lord Blankford blow on her anus, but her shame was muffled by the prick that took her mouth so fully. She couldn’t understand how a man would want to touch her in such a place, especially with his face so close. Lord Storr had to hold her when she felt it and tried to stand upright. It had to be a kiss, soft and wet, but it was the place that he kissed. It was on her anus. Not once, but he continued to kiss her, sending the tiny hole into spasms of shame. It grew worse when she felt his tongue touch her private place. It shamed her as the wet tongue ringed her anus. It was as if he wanted to push it into her private hole. How could he do such a thing? The tongue fluttered over her anus so fast that she couldn’t control the contractions. The tiny hole felt like it opened and closed. She suffered long, shameful minutes while she sucked Lord Storr’s prick and her backside was violated by Lord Blankford’s tongue. The only thing that helped was his fingers had reached between her legs and stroked her quim. Her body revolted, not sure how to handle the pleasure and the humiliation at the same time. Just as before, it stopped abruptly, Mary left in such a state.

She had done a good job of getting his prick rock hard; it was time to take her virginity. It’d been a long time since he had that privilege, so he’d savor it.

Mary wasn’t sure what she expected, but this was not it. All her life she expected to lose her virginity in her marriage bed with a gentle lover taking her, but Lord Storr had no such illusions. She was still bound, but he wasn’t finished. He undid the straps around her wrists, but only so he could bind them in front of her. The chains rattled in the ceiling and then she saw them come down, two of them, until they dangled in front of her face. Lord Storr made short work of securing each wrist in a leather cuff that hung from the chain. The chain clanged as it began to move up; this time, Mary had no choice as her arms were slowly and methodically drawn up into the air. Her naked body was put on display once again. She was glad when the chain stopped rising.

Lord Storr went behind her, his hands on her hips as he slowly drew her back. As she moved backward, she had no choice but to bend over as her legs were pulled farther away from her bound arms. His hand smoothed over her sleek back and gazed at her ass pushed up prominently behind her. Her legs were spread wide and her quim opened up. “Lower her arms a bit more, so I can bend her over deeper.”

The chains took some of the slack out of her arms, and a hand pushed down on her back until her upper body was almost parallel to the floor. Her breasts hung down, but it was the shameful positon he put her in. It was as though she was a dog to be mated from behind. Hands ran over her backside, fearing they would touch her where Lord Blankford’s tongue had gone. Her legs were parted so wide that she couldn’t clench her cheeks, even if she was allowed. She was shamefully opened up from anus to quim, and Lord Storr made sure that everyone saw her shameless display. She began to panic when she felt the hot, hard flesh of his prick slide up and down her slit and crack. It became an imminent reality that she’d lose her innocence, and she feared he was too big for her. His monster of a prick would tear her apart.

Ella reached over and gripped Prince Michael prick as she saw Mary readied to be impaled. She never felt such excitement, not even from what they did to Elizabet. Mary would lose her innocence, and it wasn’t Ella’s doings, it was her mother’s, Lady Browning. She wanted her life of luxury even if it meant her daughter’s body was the barter. But, it also meant that it would be time for Ella to pay. Straparola had taken her pleasures from her, but she knew that Prince Michael would want much more. As much as Lord Storr was part of the Hellfire Club, Prince Michael’s ancestor was one of the founding members. Ella would be put on display and used by any man that Prince Michael consented to. That should have shocked her, but ever since Straparola led her down the path, she found something in her submission, just as Elizabet and Mary also had. These powerful men knew women’s weaknesses and took advantage of their power to make them submit.

Michael was shocked by her touch. She gripped his prick hard, but within seconds, she began to stroke it. Ella would get her final revenge within moments. Lord Storr lined his prick up, and he wouldn’t wait long. He’d take her hard and quick so he could go about the leisurely task of fucking her fully. Her virgin blood would make his prick slide easier inside her. “Take my prick out. As soon as she loses her innocence, I want to feel your mouth around my prick.”

He already began to take control of her, and she willingly submitted. She opened up his trousers and took his prick out and stood it up. He was big as her hand stroked it; her eyes were on Lord Storr as he readied to take Mary. She could see his naked buttocks tense up tight as his hands dug into her hips to hold her tight. There was a moment of panic on Mary’s face when she knew the time was here.

“OOOOWWW!” His prick felt like a spear shoved between her legs. He held her bent-over body tight as his prick shoved inside her virgin hole. Her hymen didn’t last more than a second. She felt it stretch and tear. Her virgin blood flowed freely, but his prick never stopped moving, driving deeper into her once-virgin quim. His rock-hard prick spread her insides open wide, fearing he’d tear her, but instead she found herself filled and stretched by his huge prick. He only got a couple of inches inside her before her pain-filled muscles managed to keep it from going any further, but that didn’t deter him. He began to pull out, but there was no relief. He never fully withdrew. He pushed back in with more force, and she went from empty to full once again. He managed to get another inch of his prick in her before he was stopped once again. It was a cat-and-mouse game, but he always won. He filled her with more of his prick with each thrust and soon had her bouncing back and forth on the chains that bound her, forcing her back onto his rampaging prick with such power.

His prick was enveloped in her hot, wet hole. She was so tight; her muscles clung to his prick even as he stretched her to accommodate him. He fed inch after inch inside her, his prick covered in a pink sheen of her virgin blood. He began to fuck her furiously until his prick bottomed out against her cervix. She cried out, but he cared little except for his pleasure.

Prince Michael watched as Ella leaned over his lap. He felt her hot breath on his prick before he felt her soft, wet lips encase the head with a kiss of passion. He felt her suck in, drawing it in as her tongue moved over the tip until he released an unexpected jet of cum in her mouth. He heard her stifled cry, but his hand on her head urged her to take him deeper. Michael was torn between the pleasure of watching Mary defiled for the first time by Lord Storr and pleasured by Ella’s hot mouth. He kept his hand on her head to guide it in the manner he desired.

“Congratulations, Lady Browning. Your daughter’s impending marriage is consummated. I’m glad I consented to providing for the both of you.” Edward enjoyed Mary’s subjugation to his son.

“You, I thought it was Hubert that had the wealth.”

“He has all the wealth that I give him; it’s been in the family for centuries and will be passed onto him, but until the day of my untimely death, I control the purse strings of the Storrs. So, it’ll be me that you’ll be beholden to, Lady Browning.”

This was different from what she expected. Mary would keep Hubert happy, but that wasn’t where the power of the purse string was. Edward had that power. “Then, I must thank you, Lord Storr.”

He reached down to his trousers and opened them with impunity. He saw Lady Browning’s eyes open wide, but she said nothing as he revealed his prick to her. “I see Prince Michael is having his prick sucked vigorously by that young lady and your daughter is thoroughly being fucked by my son. I suggest that you might want to thank me by wrapping those pretty red lips around my prick and getting me off.”

She didn’t know whether to be ashamed or betrayed, but Lord Storr’s prick in front of her was the only way out. He wasn’t as hard and thick as he once was, but he had no trouble getting an erection. She knew her life of luxury would have its price, but she wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. She’d always been partial to pricks, and she did love a man that was demanding. She leaned over his lap and took his prick in her mouth. She immediately went to work pleasuring him, not wanting him to be disappointed.

There was no longer any pain; that went away quickly. What replaced it was something much better. She could feel his prick touch every spot inside her. He was already big, but her tight virgin hole inspired him to greatness. It felt like his prick grew thicker. He bottomed out in her quim, hitting her painfully, but the pain was gone as he withdrew. His prick rubbed her like nothing she ever felt before. Now, she knew why Elizabet had given up her virginity. This was much better than her fingers could inspire. Not even the shameful pose she was in could make the pleasure recede. She saw her mother with Lord Storr’s father and was surprised to see her head moving up and down on his lap. She knew what she was doing now. Even Prince Michael was having the pleasure of the woman’s mouth, her head in his lap and he held her down to take it as deep as he desired.

Her quim hugged his prick as it slid in and out. “Tighten your muscles when I withdraw. Learn to give me my pleasure.”

She found that her quim pulsated with such pleasure as she tightened her muscles and hugged his prick. It not only enhanced his pleasure but also hers. He leaned over her body and humped her vigorously. She felt his heavy testicles swing between his legs and slap up against her. Then, his hands slid between her legs as his fingers explored her quim. She could feel his fingers touch his prick as it slid in and out, but then, they slid up and found her pleasure button. It was swollen with blood and stood out like a tiny prick as though it sought out his fingers. He gripped it harshly, but that did nothing to dampen her pleasure; in fact, it made her thrust back to impale her quim on his prick. She began to push back when he thrust in and clenched his prick as he withdrew. She wanted to wring every bit of pleasure from him before he came in her. She wanted her pleasure, too.

“GGluggh,” Ella gagged as Prince Michael pushed down on her head too hard and the head of his prick slammed into the tiny opening of her throat. It would never fit there, but it was as if he tried. But, she didn’t back off, allowing him to guide her head in any manner he sought. Her fingers reached down and gripped his testicles gently. She began to work them over. His prick leaked his juices in her mouth, but it would be much more that she’d have to take before she was done.

Everyone watched, but it wasn’t just Lord Storr and Mary that they watched. Lady Browning was pressed into service with her mouth taking Lord Edward Storr’s prick with such authority. Prince Michael got all the attention he wanted from his latest flame, Ella. There were so many rumors about this mysterious woman that came into his life only a week ago, and no one knew anything about her. But from the way Prince Michael worked her head, she had talents that were previously overlooked.

Mary found pleasure in the most unexpected places. Bound and bent over, taken like a dog, she came explosively just as Lord Storr spewed his hot seed in her once-virgin hole. Ella and Lady Browning tried to contain the mouthful of cum each received for their efforts. Lady Browning was more skilled at it, but Ella had a newfound talent with her mouth, and she reluctantly swallowed the thick, salty crème that flooded her mouth.

Prince Michael and Ella left after that, but the others stayed. Mary wasn’t finished yet, and she didn’t expect she was. In fact, she hoped she wasn’t. She had a newfound respect for a man’s prick.

Mary was left in the same position, but the chains allowed her to move lower. She found out why when she was confronted by one man’s prick in her face. Before the prick that was behind her plunged into her wet quim, her mouth was penetrated. This was the first time she had two pricks in her at once. It was difficult to give both of them the attention they desired, but each man was unwilling to give up her attention, so she often got a slap on her ass or her hanging breast was slapped until her attention was back on that man. When she was finally done, her belly was filled with men’s seed and her quim was sore but satisfied.

Lord Storr proudly took his soon-to-be wife home with him, as well as her mother. It was good that Lady Browning took to his father as well as Mary did to him.





Chapter 8





New Life for All


Ella ran for her carriage, midnight fast approaching. She thought she left Prince Michael behind, but he was in behind her. She couldn’t stop to talk him out of it, she had to get to the carriage and be off. She saw her carriage, her footman waiting impatiently for her, the driver already in place, holding back the snorting steads. But, behind her carriage was another carriage. She was just about there and she had enough time to get out before Prince Michael would see her disappear in a cloud of smoke.

“Grab her!” Michael shouted out to his four footmen that stood behind the carriage.

She was suddenly pounced upon by four men, and from the sound of the voice, it was Prince Michael that ordered it. She struggled, but she was no match for four strong men. “I must go, Prince Michael, please,” she begged.

“Put her in my carriage as I instructed you,” Michael told his men as he walked over to her carriage.

They manhandled her with ease, and she soon found herself swinging through the air and inside the carriage. It was spacious and well-appointed with the finest of fabrics. It had to be Prince Michael’s carriage. She heard voices outside, but she was too busy trying to fight off his men. She was pushed into the seat, and one man sat on the bench seat on each side of her. They pulled her arms up into the air, and then, she saw them. There were two leather cuffs, one on each side with shiny buckles, out of place in the carriage of a prince. The men quickly secured her wrists in the leather cuffs and secured the buckles until her wrists were bound tight. The other two men were at her feet, and they took liberties with her that was uncalled for. They pushed up her dress as they grabbed her naked ankles. She struggled and tugged on the cuffs that held her arms, but she grew tired quickly. As soon as the two men began to part her legs, her strength came back as she tried to kick out at them. They expected it and succeeded to use her own momentum to betray herself, pulling her ankles wide in opposite directions as though they were trying to split her up the middle. “No, NO!” she cried out as she felt leather cuffs go around her slim ankles. She was sure that Prince Michael didn’t tell them to do that. She hoped he’d open up the door any second now and scold them for their disrespectful behavior.

“Relax and it’ll go easier, M’lady,” one of the men told her as she struggled, but it didn’t do any good.

It felt like her crotch was split up the middle as they tugged her legs in opposite directions. She felt them hold her still as they fumbled with the cuffs. The leather straps went tightly around her ankles, and then, her ankles were released. She struggled to close her legs, but she was effectively spread open with no chance of closing them. The men at her ankles didn’t move away, and then, she felt it. Their hands began to run up her legs. They weren’t in a hurry; they moved slowly and softly up her calves. Hands pushed her dress up higher as they neared her knees. Fingers tickled in that special place behind her knees that was so sensual. They didn’t stop there, sliding up her inner thighs on both sides, slowly and tenderly. She struggled to close her legs from the affront, but it only confirmed her helplessness. Prince Michael was nowhere in sight. The fingers began to tighten on her flesh as though they possessed her, moving closer to her mound, spread lewdly as her dress was pushed up higher and higher. She struggled in the seat, but they had bound her securely. She never felt anything like this before. She was bound arms and legs, spread wide for the men to intimately explore her at will. She felt complete helplessness. The fingers tickled so close to her mound, but now, something else was felt. The more she struggled and found it useless, the more she felt a tingling between her legs at the thought of being touched there while bound against her will by a stranger. She had no power to stop it. “Noo,” she whimpered when the fingers touched the edge of her undergarments on both sides, so close to her quim. It wasn’t pain or fear that she felt. It was shame and excitement. Her quim grew wet as the fingers teased so close. It was as though she couldn’t wait for the touch.

Suddenly, the door to the carriage opened up. “Thank you, men. Let’s go, follow that other carriage and don’t you dare lose it.” The men scurried from the carriage as Prince Michael sat on the seat opposite her. The driver yelled to the horses, and the carriage lurched. Michael had to hold on, but Ella didn’t have that problem. He looked at her, bound before him, her dress high up her legs revealing the white, soft skin of her thighs. She was a sight to behold with her legs spread wide and her arms high above her head. Her full breasts heaved as she struggled to fill her lungs. He didn’t fail to notice a blush on her upper chest.

She finally got her breath back. “Please, let me go before it’s too late.” She knew it was only minutes before midnight. He’d find her bound in his carriage in her shabby dress. He’d throw her from his carriage when he found out who she was.

“I will learn of your identity tonight, Ella. We’re following your carriage, and I’ll see whom this mystery woman really is. You will never be out of my sight, and I must say, that you are a ravishing woman when bound. Now that I’ve fulfilled your wishes, it’s time for you to fulfill mine.”

“No, you don’t underst—.” Her words were cut off just as they came around the bend to Lady Browning’s house. She could hear the sound of the horses of her carriage, but then, there was silence. Prince Michael’s carriage stopped in mid-track from the surprise, but none was more surprised than Prince Michael. A white smoke rose up from the floor and engulfed the inside of the carriage in its mysterious shroud. Her hope that she’d be free when her clothes transformed was no longer a reality. The white smoke began to clear when Prince Michael opened one of the carriage windows and the cool night breeze blew the smoke from the carriage. When it was gone, Prince Michael stared at her in disbelief or awe, not sure which. Then, she looked down and saw what he saw.

“Is this the work of Straparola?”

She could barely talk; her body flushed a bright pink in shame. “Yessss, how did you know?”

“He is the only one with this type of sense of humor. I suspect you thought it would end differently.”

She watched as he stared at her naked body, bound and spread in the most obscene position. Straparola took her new clothes but didn’t give back her old clothes. She felt a heated flush run through her body as Prince Michaels’ eyes were drawn to her quim. He didn’t even blink. The cool air blew into the carriage, and she expected she’d be cold, but her body was heated mostly between her spread legs. No man had ever seen her like this before.

“So, how are you related to Lady Browning? I should have known after hearing your wishes.”

“Lady Browning is my stepmother, and Mary and Elizabet are my stepsisters. Ever since my father’s death, they have treated me as a slave. I have a tiny room near the kitchen while they have generous bedrooms. I cook, clean, bath them and clean their chamber pots. They treat me cruelly, and I got my revenge.”

“And Straparola is your fairy godfather. What did he get in exchange?”

“The same as you did but first. I was innocent in all ways before him. Everything I learned was from him. He must have done a good job teaching me, because I heard no complaints from you.”

“And he got no farther than teaching you to suck a prick?”

“No, I’m still chaste.” But she didn’t feel that way, spread and naked for him to see her virgin quim in all its glory. “Be a gentleman and let me go now.”

“And where will you go, Ella? Mary and Lady Browning are going to leave with Lord Storr and his father immediately. I suspect that Elizabet will be with Lady Oates within a day. Their house will be closed up and sold. There is no place for you, Ella. Is that your name?”

“No, it’s Cinderella, but for some mystical power that Straparola possesses, no one sees Cinderella, or maybe, it’s just no one ever did before.”

“Then, it will forever be Ella.”

Prince Michael made her downtrodden by her plight. She was without home, money or clothes.

Michael stuck his head out the window. “Take the slow way back to the castle, driver. I don’t want to get there for an hour.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The driver knew exactly what he wanted. He had a lovely woman bound in the carriage and had no intentions of letting her lose without further investigation.

“What are you going to do to me?” Her voice should be frightened, but it wasn’t. She had made a deal with Prince Michael, and she’d have to pay for it with her body. Bound, spread and naked before him, the price didn’t seem too high.

“Anything and everything, Ella. You’ll come back to the castle with me where you’ll live. I’ll take over from where Straparola left off on your education. The Hellfire Club will love you, Ella.”

She hadn’t thought about being displayed at the Hellfire Club as Elizabet and Mary had been, but she should’ve. Prince Michael was a descendant of the founders so he had the same inclinations as they did to keep it going in the same manner as before. But, a new dimension was added when Prince Michael moved off the other bench and came over to her. She couldn’t help but look down to see the brazen display of his erection in his trousers. This after she’d already sucked him off. She had an hour of him before they went back to the castle. A lot could happen in an hour, and she could do nothing about any of it. He can have his way with her in a manner he desires, and she suspected that he had a dark side which he’d explore with her body.

The first thing Michael did when he got close enough was to slap her quim with the flat of his hand. It wasn’t hard, not yet, but it still surprised her as she yelped from the unexpected touch.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” He wanted to hear her say the words.

“Slap my quim.”

“That’s barely a slap, Ella.” He did it again, this time harder, and he caught her full on the lips. It wasn’t lost on him that as he drew his hand away, he could feel the moisture on it.

She bit her lip as he slapped her quim harder. She could feel her lips begin to swell up but also felt the shameful wetness. It was surreal, he slapped her quim and they talked about it as though it was the most natural thing to do. “A woman is tender and sensitive there.”

“Yes, some women are. But, others only grow wet and aroused. There is a fine line between pleasure and pain, and the Hellfire Club is determined to test it every week. How about you, Ella? Are you soft and tender or wet and aroused?” He slapped her quim once again, this time harder. He looked at her wet lips. “You don’t have to tell me, Ella. I can see your wetness grow.”

Prince Michael began to devour her naked body. He pushed a bolster behind her back that thrust her breasts out vulgarly. Her young, firm tits pushed up high, but it was the nipples at the tips that begged his attention. He cupped both of her breasts in his hands as he began to squeeze them, softly at first but then harder. He knew she’d want it that way. His fingers teased over her nipples back and forth as his fingertips scratched the tender tips until they swelled in such expectations. “A little pleasure,” he teased her, but then, his fingers gripped her nipples fully and began to squeeze them tight. “A little pain.” She bit her lip, but she didn’t cry out as he tugged on them until he had them stretched long. He didn’t release them but twisted them until her nipple flesh was gnarled. When he released them, they were twice the size and easy targets for his fingernails to snap on.

She jumped at the sharp slap of his fingernail on her nipples, sending a tremor of pain deep in her breasts. She looked at them, red and swollen, and the cool breeze blew them into greater hardness. Then, his mouth descended on one of them, and his lips clutched her hardened tip and drew it deep into his mouth with such powerful suction. It felt like he was trying to suck it from her chest, but then, his tongue worked it over, slapping it back and forth with the hot, wet flesh. His hand kept the other nipple hard until he could devour that one with his mouth. He ground his teeth back and forth over her rubbery nipple, but instead of fear, she felt pleasure. She wanted him to touch her quim and find her wetness. She was a virgin, but she’d lost her hymen riding. She wouldn’t feel him tear her when he fucked her, but she’d taken his prick in her mouth, and she knew he was big. She’d feel the painful stretching when he took her.

She looked at him as he backed away, surprising her. But, he began to take off his trousers, and soon, his prick sported out his undergarments. He moved next to her again, but it wasn’t her mouth he wanted. He folded her breasts around his prick, and then, he began to move his hips. She looked down to see the red helmet of his prick slid in and out her compressed breasts as if it was the most normal thing to do. Ella never heard of such a thing, but Prince Michael seemed adept at it. It was as though he fucked her breasts.

“Lean down your head farther and lick the head of my prick as it slides out.”

She had to stretch her neck and as she did, the muscles in her arms grew taut from being bound so high. Her tongue sneaked out her mouth as she watched the dark-red head of his prick slide in and out of her white breasts. She saw that it was wet and slid easily on his leaking seed, but her tongue still stretched until she could rub it over the very tip. When it pulled back, it left a wet spot on her tongue as she waited for him to push it back through. He kept this up for a while, and her mouth grew thick with his salty, acrid seed once again.

Finally, he was eager to taste her virgin quim. He pulled his prick from her breasts as his rock-hard prick bounced in front of him. He moved his face close and soon found her soft belly with his lips. He began to kiss her softly as he moved down her belly. He could see her thigh muscles strain as if she could close her legs.

She didn’t expect this either. She wanted his fingers but got his lips. He moved down her belly, and soon, his eyes and mouth would be inches from her naked quim to see her up close and personal. Her body tried to stop him, but each time she clenched her legs to close them, she found how helpless she was. She felt his hot breath blow on her mound, as his lips slowly ran over the fine hairs of her bush. His fingers began to rub her thighs, so close to her quim. His mouth and fingers converged onto her as she felt her wetness increasing. “AAAAHHH!” His fingers touched her quim, sliding over the soft lips on both sides, and then, she felt them pressuring her lips to open. Her quim’s lips strained as they were spread, but he got another gasp from her lips when his tongue slid through her bush and found the wet flesh exposed. “NNNOOOOO!” She cried out when his tongue began to move through her slit. His fingers kept her open while his tongue lapped up her flowing juices. His tongue explored her expertly while his fingers kept her open and available. He made broad strokes up and down her slit with his tongue, and she felt the tremors grow in her pleasure button as he neared it.

“You taste good, Ella.” He teased her by biting her quim lips, not hard, but he clench down on the fleshy lips to pull them open. He pushed his mouth between her lips and enjoyed the wet flesh that was exposed, using his tongue to lap it up. He moved down to the opening of her quim, but his fingers explored it first. He pushed into the tight hole and felt the elastic opening grip his finger so tightly. Nothing had ever been in there before. He pushed a finger into the tight hole and got a gasp from her lips, but she could do nothing as her insides opened up under his probing finger.

She felt his finger enter her, not even her fingers had done such a thing. His finger felt so big or she was too small. She could feel the hard knuckles pass through her reluctant hole. It felt like a tiny animal nipped at her insides as he explored her intimately. “OOOOOHHH, how you violate me with your fingers,” she cried out, but she couldn’t stop her inner muscles from gripping his probing finger, not to stop it but to feel it. What would it feel like when it’s his prick that is inside me?

“It’s difficult to violate you when you are so wet, Ella,” he shamed her. He pushed his finger in deeper, exploring her hot, wet quim. He pulled his finger out, but then, it was his tongue that violated her. He made the tip of his tongue hard and pointed as he tried to dart in and out of the tight hole of her quim. She could do nothing, bound as she was, and he soon entered her with his tongue.

“No, you shame me,” Ella cried out as the tongue entered her, but she wanted a prick to take her virginity from her. She had no choice, naked and bound she was at his mercy. That was her dilemma. She found too much enjoyment in being bound naked and devoured by Prince Michael. It was the excitement of being unable to stop him from doing anything to her. She’d seen what happened to the women at the Hellfire Club.

“We’ll see how much it shames you now,” pulling his tongue from her quim. His fingers went up her slit until he got to the top. He wasn’t surprised when he peeled back her lips and found a large, red pleasure button throbbing with blood. He didn’t touch it, not with his fingers. He pressed his lips against it as her body shuddered, and she cried out with such surprise. He pulled her button into his mouth with powerful suction as his tongue began to explore it until her body jerked and shuddered from the unexpected touch.

“OOOOH, NNNOO, STTTOPP,” she cried out, but she couldn’t convince herself she wanted him to stop. Her juices flooded between her legs. Her fingers had extracted such pleasure from her button but nothing like this. She felt his hot, wet, demanding lips on her button, and then, he sucked it inside his mouth. She never felt her button stretch so far, yet his tongue wouldn’t leave it alone. It rubbed it like her fingers did, but his tongue was hot and wet. She shuddered when she felt his sharp teeth slide over the edge of her button, but it was pure pleasure that laced through her body. It was as if she wanted him to bite it hard and make her suffer the unbelievable pleasure or pain she’d feel. She felt his finger enter her quim once again, and now, she was being rubbed in two places. She couldn’t contain her growing arousal, fearing she’d cum on his face but also fearing she wouldn’t.

Michael was proud of his skills, making this bound virgin cum would culminate the night. He attacked her with his mouth and fingers with a vengeance and soon had her crying out for her pleasure. He didn’t let up until it was too late for her. He heard her cry out as the pleasure raced through her bound body, and she came explosively on his face and tongue. Her quim squeezed his finger with quivering contractions that would play havoc with his prick once he made her cum while he fucked her.

She screamed out loudly, unable to muffle her pleasure, shamed that his driver and footmen could hear her unrestrained pleasure. She’d never experienced such an orgasm, and his mouth and finger wouldn’t let her rest until he drained her. Her body slumped in the straps that held her, but his finger stayed in her quim as his face pulled from between her legs. He had a smug look on his wet face.

“I suspect Straparola never made you cum like that before, Ella.” He saw her flushed face, her lips trembled as she refused to acknowledge her shame. “We still have a few minutes before we get back to the castle, Ella.”

She could do nothing as his finger stayed inside her quim and rubbed the wet passage slowly and sensuously. Then, she felt his other hand slide lower. “No, noooo,” she cried in shame as his finger ran over her perineum. It sent shivers through her body. She never expected to feel anything there. But, his finger didn’t stop as it slid higher up behind her body and pushed in the sweat-drenched crack of her backside. The finger stopped when it touched her anus. She felt shameful contractions of her muscles, unable to stop them from the finger that violated her back there. Why would he want to touch such a private place?

“Ah, another place Straparola never trained you for, Ella. Relax, you have no choice.” His finger began to run over the tight knot of her anus as he felt the spasms of her muscles. She huffed and puffed, but she could do nothing but suffer his shameless probing. He pressed harder with the tip of his finger into the tight hole. It contracted around his fingertip as he waited. It took a few minutes before her anus quieted down, his finger still on it but pressing for entrance. He felt her anus begin to dilate as if it welcomed his fingers. He used more pressure more until it felt like her insides sucked the tip of his finger into her hot hole. With just the fingernail inside her, he waited until she calmed down once again.

His finger was patient but persistent. It sat heavily on her anus, and she could do nothing to stop him. She finally felt the tremors of her anal muscles relax, but it was replaced by something else. She could feel her anal ring begin to flower open as if to welcome his probing finger. The tiny hole began to distend, and she couldn’t stop his finger as it began to enter her. “No, not there,” she cried out in shame, but as she said it, her anal ring gave up the battle and she felt a finger enter a hole that wasn’t meant to be probed from that direction. She felt her anal ring stretch around his hard finger as it sank into her rectum. Her buttocks clenched tight in revolt, but that only aided his finger from being sucked in deeper. Her body betrayed her as his finger wormed into her backside. She couldn’t understand why he did such a thing.

She got relief when the carriage pulled up in front of the castle. His fingers slipped out of both of her holes, but her muscles clenched tight as if she missed them. More discerning was her backside. He violated her with his finger, yet as his finger left, she could still feel it inside her. It took a moment until her anal ring snapped shut as if it waited to see if his finger would come back. She couldn’t stop the contractions of her buttocks as he began to untie her.

“We’re home, Ella.” He handed her a robe and a pair of slippers to wear. He always had them in his carriage in case he got too excited with a woman and ripped their clothes in his haste and excitement.

They marched into the castle with all the fanfare that was bestowed on Prince Michael. She felt a shameful wetness, knowing she was naked beneath the robe as all watched and admired her. She didn’t know if the night was over or just beginning as they went upstairs to a place that few had seen. It was Prince Michael’s living quarters.

“I’ll draw a bath for you.” He went into the other room while she began to inspect his rooms.

He had six rooms, two of them were bedrooms, but she could tell which one he slept in, the large bed took up the center of the room. There was a large sitting room along with a library or office. The last room was locked.

Michael came back into the room. “You’re bath is ready.”

She looked at him, only in a robe; sure he was naked beneath it. She followed him into the bathroom. She stood there, not sure what to do. Would he leave?

“Take off the robe.”

This was no time for modesty. He’d seen all of her and more. She took it off as he helped her into the tub. The hot water felt good.

“Stand up and I’ll wash you.”

He had soap and a washcloth in his hand. There was no use arguing the point. He’d get his way no matter what. She never had any one wash her. He started at her shoulders and worked down her body. He paid special attention to her breasts, and she felt her nipples swell in pleasure as the washcloth rubbed over them to make them stand to attention. Then, it went over her belly, and she spread her legs obediently as the washcloth paid particular attention to her quim. Then, he had her turn around, and he spread her cheeks and washed between them. Her anus quivered at the thought of his finger inside her once again. She got back into the water to rinse herself off.

“Your turn now.”

She took the washcloth and soap from him and began to explore his body just as he did to her. She spent a lot of time between his legs, and her fingers ran over his prick, not the washcloth. She wanted to feel every bit of it and commit it to memory. She hefted his testicles and lathered them fully. Then, she boldly said, “Turn around now.”

She laughed when she surprised him. She had lathered his crack with the washcloth, but then, she soaped one finger. As she used the washcloth to rub his cheeks, her finger found his anus and pierced it suddenly. One minute her fingertip pushed against the tight hole, and then, the slippery soap won the battle as her finger was sucked into his tight hole. He gasped loudly, almost standing on his toes, but he did nothing to deter her. She gave him a few pushes with her finger before she finally pulled it out, but she watched his tight brown hole slowly close as if he waited for her to return with her finger.

When they came out of the bathroom, there was food on the table as if it appeared out of nowhere, but the room was empty. She wore a beautiful blue diaphanous nightgown that highlighted her naked body. He wore a silk robe that couldn’t contain his erection.

The rest of the night they ate and talked as if they just met each other. Ella no longer hid her life from him. They went to bed in the early morning, naked together for the first time, but he made no attempt to make love to her for the first time yet. She had a difficult time sleeping with him, wanting to curl her fingers around his prick and arouse him until he took her innocence. She wondered what he had planned for her, for she knew he wouldn’t wait past tomorrow.

* * * *

Elizabet wasn’t surprised by the knock on the door. It was Lady Oates.

“It is time for you to leave this place, Elizabet. Mary and your mother went to live with Lord Storr at his castle. He’ll sell this house.”

“What about Cinderella?”

“Don’t worry about her. She’ll find another kitchen-scullery position without trouble. She is a good worker, and it was as if she were non-existent. I brought you something to wear. You can leave the rest of your clothes. Elizabet no longer dresses that way.”

“Yes, Lady Oates.”

She handed her the clothes. “Put them on; we have to go.”

Elizabet stood in the middle of the living room and took off all her clothes. Lady Oates helped her into the tight corset until she could hardly breathe, but it was the straps that Elizabet desired. They slid between her legs and parted her slit and then ran through the crack of her backside until they were secured behind her back. She bowed her legs out as the final one passed between her spread lips and her crack. This one was different than the last; the knobs were much thicker and demanding. The one on her anus felt like a cork pushed into her reluctant hole. She knew it would slowly be drawn inside until she stretched around it as she walked. The one on her quim was the largest, and Elizabet was wet as soon as the straps constrained her quim. It slid inside as if it was a tiny prick. When the strap was pulled up, her pleasure button was trapped by another knob, but this one felt rough. She knew it would rub her harshly when she moved. She mounted the four-inch heels as she put on the dress. Her lovely breasts were pushed up like mountains, her full buttocks pushed out to their fullest. As she walked, her quim grew wetter. Elizabet was about to embark on her new life, but she didn’t know what it was. She put all her trust in Lady Oates.

She was taken to Lady Oates castle, a stately palace close to Prince Michael. She was surprised there were so many people there at this late hour. It was as if it was a party. Lady Oates introduced her to everyone, especially the men. “You’re going to enjoy the men, Elizabet.”

It was four o’clock in the morning before they went upstairs, though there were still some men downstairs. Elizabet wasn’t sure who lived here with Lady Oates. She was shown into a large bedroom that had to be Lady Oates. A huge bed with white comforter and pillows filled the room. Where would I sleep?

“Let me help you off with your clothes.” Lady Oates made haste in getting her undressed, but she had trouble taking the wet straps that were between her legs. Elizabet loved the tight lacing of her quim. “Come in here.”

Elizabet was led naked into the other room. It was a lot smaller and only had a single bed in it.

“Lie face down on the bed, Elizabet.”

She didn’t know what would happen, but she trusted Lady Oates. In a minute, Lady Oates piled up leather straps next to her.

“Put your arms behind you.” She smiled when she obeyed so obediently. Lady Oates expertly bound Elizabet on the bed within minutes. Her arms were pulled back and tied to her ankles, her knees bent, but the stringent bondage made her body arch unnaturally, her head didn’t touch the bed. She was drawn a bow, her body taut. She tried to say something, but Lady Oates put a wooden bit in her mouth and tied it behind her head. Drool fell from her mouth. She greased up a butt plug and unceremoniously pushed it in deep until her anus snapped tight and trapped it. She gave it a few taps and that got muffled groans from her split lips. “I’ll see you in the morning,” and blew out the lamp and closed the door, leaving her in complete silence and darkness.

Her body ached already and something big was in her backside. She couldn’t keep her muscles from fighting the unnatural bondage. She couldn’t even rest her head in the dark room, unable to speak out as drool ran down her chin. What have I got myself into?

* * * *

Lady Browning found her accommodations more than adequate. It was in the wing next to Lord Storr, Sr. She didn’t know if that was good or bad. She thought that Mary would be able to win over Lord Storr and his money, but it was his father that controlled it, so she’d have to work on him and that would require more than her charming self. He already proved that when he had her suck him off. It wouldn’t be the first time that she had to use her body to get what she wanted. But Lord Storr and Prince Michael had the Hellfire Club. They were more sophisticated in their perverse pleasures. Mary had learned that tonight.

Mary found Lord Storr’s castle magnificent. He proudly proclaimed that she was his intended to all. After what she went through tonight, she hoped that would be the case. She hoped for some sleep tonight, but Lord Storr had her between his legs and sucking his prick as he laid his head on the pillow.

“Stroke the shaft while you milk the head in your mouth. Don’t spill any when I cum. I hate stains on the bed.” He closed his eyes as she worked him over. She might have been a mouth virgin before tonight, but she had many men that taught her the ways of pleasure. He was pleased when she licked his prick and his balls. She sucked each one into her mouth and washed it down with her tongue. He rewarded her with a mouthful of his seed. She curled up next to him with her hand lovingly cradling his prick as they fell asleep.





Chapter 9





Lost Innocence


Prince Michael was so loving and tender with her all day. They ate food like she never tasted before. She’d have to be careful she didn’t grow fat. He had such lavish clothes for her to wear, all cut specifically for her, though she didn’t know how he knew so much about her. Her undergarments were the finest of silks, very sexy and revealing.

“Tonight, we have a special party at the Hellfire Club. Only very exclusive members are invited.”

“What is the occasion?” She asked the question, though it was a foregone conclusion what the occasion would be.

“I’m going to take your innocence from you, Ella. I want to share it with my closest friends.”

Her hope of Prince Michael taking her in a private moment in his bed was always a dream for her. After she found out about the Hellfire Club, she knew it would be something much different. She’d seen how Mary and Elizabet were displayed and taken and knew she wouldn’t be afforded any different treatment. Her only hope was that no other man would take her.

“Put this on; it’s almost time.” He left her alone.

It was barely a dress. It was a gown of the finest silk and threads, but the bodice was cut away so her naked breasts would be thrust up for all to see. When the gown got to her waist, it began to split open to the floor, each piece not more than four inches wide. As she walked, it would shimmer open and closed, revealing what lay beneath it. She only found a pair of white thigh-high stockings to wear with blue ribbons on them. There was nothing else, none of her fine silk undergarments. She’d be naked beneath it and everyone would have a peek at what lay between her legs. She finished dressing and waited for Prince Michael to come get her.

The guests began to arrive and Michael greeted them. When the last one arrived, he went upstairs to get Ella. “It’s time, Ella.”

She followed him down the stairs, her chest blushing pink as her naked breasts moved sensuously with each step, yet she couldn’t stop her nipples from pouting into hard and throbbing flesh. She saw the way the dress split apart all the way to her waist as she walked, her white flesh revealed in contrast to the dark blue material of the dress. It felt like the dress caressed her flesh when she walked, especially between her legs as the material stroked her quim as if it were Prince Michael’s fingers that pleasured her.

The servants opened the door for her, yet their eyes were downtrodden, fearing the wrath of Prince Michael if they should visit her half-naked body.

“Before you go in, one last piece of jewelry to adorn your lovely body.”

It was far from jewelry that he put on her, though she was sure that it was made out of silver. It was a chain, not a thin chain for looks but a thicker chain that went around her neck until it was snug. The end of it was the leash that Prince Michael held in his hand. It was as though she was his pet that he would be proudly display for all to see.

“Come, Ella.” He gave a tug with the chain as she moved along next to him.

This was different than the other nights she’d attended. Most of the women with the men had dresses similar to hers, at least at the bodice. Their firm, hard breasts were naked as they pushed up high, and the men weren’t immune to the look. Many of the women were being openly fondled as they talked. Yet, the dress beneath their waists was normal, not open as hers was. As Prince Michael introduced her to the men and the women with them, she was openly fondled. At first, she was taken by surprise when the man that stared into her face reached over and cupped one of her naked breasts as if it was the most casual thing to do. Her body jerked back as she was startled, but Prince Michael gave a tug on the chain until she moved forward and pushed her breast into his hand. His hand lightly ran over her nipple to tease it to such hardness, shamed that she grew excited from another man’s touch. He wet his finger and touched her nipple with the slightest of touch, but his cool spit sent her flesh trembling to the depth of her breast.

“She is such a lovely, delicate creature, Prince Michael. I can’t wait to see how she performs.”

His hand slid from her breast to go to her hips. He pushed the dress aside, and she soon felt his hand touch her naked hip. It didn’t stop there; she knew where it was going. She felt his large hand clasp onto her naked buttock. She clenched her cheeks, but he continued to squeeze it.

“Such a nice, firm backside.” But his hand continued to roam beneath her dress. It slid around front, and he stared into her eyes as if to defy him when his fingers found the soft hairs of her mound. He squeezed her lips and got a gasp from her mouth. He watched as Prince Michael gave a tug on the leash to order to gain her compliance. “A virgin you say?”

“Yes, no prick has ever been inside her hot, tight hole.” Michael said it proudly.

“Will we see her being deflowered tonight, Prince Michael?”

“Of course, that is why all my special friends are here.”

“That’ll be a special treat. It’s so difficult to find a virgin these days. We have to go younger and younger each year.” His fingers finally left her quim, but he noticed that there was dampness on them.

There were at least ten men with their women in the room, and Ella was introduced to each one, and they all took liberties with her body. She was openly fondled, her breasts, backside and her quim. She struggled to hide her arousal, but she grew wetter each time fingers touched her so intimately. It was as though all the men tried to masturbate her and force her to have an orgasm to show their sexual prowess. Prince Michael looked at her proudly, but his hand was always on the leash to control her.

Everyone began to gather around a chaise, a finely crafted sofa of polished wood and upholstered with the finest cloth. It was suitable for three. Michael turned to Ella. His fingers ran over her swollen nipples, a dark red with pounding blood from all the fingers that caressed them into turbulent tips. “It’s time, Ella.”

She looked around as everyone stared at her. There wasn’t a man that didn’t sport a huge erection at the thought of her deflowering. Prince Michael began to take off her dress, opening it in the back. His fingers slid over her naked back to send shivers through her flesh. He slipped it off her shoulders and pushed it down over her hips. She was left standing naked, except for her thigh-high stockings, which highlighted the rest of her naked body more vividly, in front of all. She stood there while Prince Michael shed his clothes in haste. It wasn’t long before she saw his familiar prick stand out in front of him, but her naked body and what the night would bestow on him made it thicker and longer. She feared his girth in her tight, virgin hole. She may have lost her hymen while riding, but she never had anything more than a few fingers and a tongue inside her quim, and they were much less formidable.

Prince Michael pulled her closer to him so he could kiss her. He took her hand and forced her fingers around the shaft of his prick and, with his hand over hers, began to slide it up and down his shaft.

His kiss was passionate, and she felt his prick swell beneath her touch. He moved his hand away from hers, but she continued to stroke his shaft. She was bent partly over as she felt a hand on her back, pushing down until she bent deeper. Another hand smoothed over her naked backside as the men all moved to get a better view. She heard a voice but didn’t know who said it.

“Spread your legs, Ella.” Prince Michael’s tongue danced in her mouth, but he made no attempt to stop what the wandering hands did behind her. She spread her legs, and a hand slid between her thighs and with a gentle urging, she spread them wider.

“What a magnificent quim.”

She felt a finger slide down her crack as she clenched it tight, but it didn’t stop until it got to her quim. He started to rub and explore her, and she heard the shameful comment.

“She’s wet, soaking wet.”

The finger rode up her slit from behind, pulling apart her wet lips to show her most intimate pink inner lips for all to see. She could see her reflection from some of the mirrors on the wall, and she was lewdly display as she stroked a prick and another man stroked her quim. She looked around, and more men had taken their pricks out and the women with them stroked them as they all gazed at her. How could I grow wetter at this degrading display of my body?

Michael broke their passionate kiss and though it broke his heart, he pulled his prick from her hand. He stood her up straight. “Lie on the chaise. Would you help her Giles?”

“I’d love to assist you, Prince Michael.” He sat down on the couch and waited for Ella. “I’m Lord Dent, M’lady.” She started to sit on the couch but that wasn’t the position that Prince Michael wanted. “Recline on it, Ella. You’re not here to have tea but to fuck.”

Lord Dent took the end of the chain and held it, the slack taken out of it so he could control her if needed. “Take out my prick, Ella. You can stroke it as Prince Michael fucks you.”

She looked at Prince Michael but got no sympathy. She leaned over his lap and began to undo his trousers. At least Lord Dent was a younger man, about the same age as Prince Michael. She couldn’t deny that he was handsome and fit, and from the bulge that stirred beneath her fingers, he was virile. It didn’t take long to undo his trouser, and her hand slid inside his undergarments to pluck out his prick. He was big and hard as her hand curled beneath the shaft and close to his testicles. She turned her attention back to Prince Michael when he grabbed one of her ankles and threw her further onto her back. He flung her leg over the arm of the sofa and then grabbed her other ankle. He split her up the middle without pause.

Her pink quim opened up wide as his prick throbbed to be inside. He saw the way she expertly cupped Gile’s prick. “Take my prick and rub it on your quim.”

It was time for her to lose her innocence. She stretched out and took his prick in her hand, the first time she held two pricks at one time as though they both fought for her attention. With her legs spread so wide, she was opened up for all to see and they stood behind Prince Michael to get the best view. She began to rub the head of his prick up and down her slit and soon gathered hers and his juices. She could feel his prick throb as it bounced in her hand, and she gripped it to hold it from getting away. She knew what she had to do. She snuggled the head of his prick against her virgin hole. Prince Michael already pushed in with his hips to trap it in her tight, virgin hole. She looked down as the thick head of his prick overpowered her tiny hole. It would never fit!

“Move your hand away, Ella. Stroke Lord Dent’s prick while I take care of your quim.”

Lord Dent’s arm slipped around her shoulder and drew her near him, but she refused to let Prince Michael’s prick escape her hand. She wanted to feel him as he entered her.

It felt like his prick was pushed against an immovable object, but that gave him no concern. Once he was rooted fully inside her, he’d fuck her vigorously. She’d flower open beneath the power of his thrusts. He began to push with his hips as she continued to hold his prick. At least that would keep it from bending. He looked as her quim began to open to slowly slide over the head of his prick. It wouldn’t take long before he was inside.

It was nothing like the fingers that pushed inside her. His prick was more formidable and demanding, and she could feel her quim open up under the onslaught. The people looked down at her as they waited for the moment, but even she was caught off guard. “OOOOOWWWW!” She cried out as her quim felt like it tore when the head of his prick suddenly busted inside. It stretched her painfully as she struggled to accommodate it. She looked down at his prick, but there was no blood on it. She had survived, but his clenching prick threatened her as it jerked in pleasure.

“So hot and tight. It’s like a furnace,” Michael exclaimed loudly for all to hear. He barely had the head in and already her muscles fought to keep him out. He began to move his hips from side to side as he began the journey inside her quim. “Release my prick so I can fuck you properly.”

His prick began to plow into her quim. She felt so stretched, fearing he’d tear her, but he wasn’t about to be denied his pleasure. She began to stroke Lord Dent’s prick, hoping to inspire her own arousal and make it easier for him to fuck her. It was odd to be stroking one man’s prick that she just met while Prince Michael took her innocence while a crowd of strangers watched her demise. “Not so faasst,” she cried when Prince Michael became more aroused and his hips moved urgently. It was strange to see a prick stick out of her quim as more and more of it was slowly drawn inside. She could feel the thick ridge around the head tease at her muscles as her elastic walls stretched to accommodate his growing lust. In and out he thrust as his testicles hung beneath him and rocked back and forth.

“You’re so tight, it feels like your skinning my prick,” but that didn’t stop him. He continued to bore into her. Her quim clenched tightly around his prick as he drew it out. He shoved back in, pushing her against the chaise, but it stopped her from escaping his lunge back in. He saw her stroking Gile’s prick so passionately. Soon, he’d have her sucking pricks while he fucked her.

The initial shock and pain began to recede to be replaced by something much better. His prick rubbed her insides like nothing she ever felt before. The thick ridge on the head rubbed her so passionately when he withdrew and her quim tightened around the shaft with such loving care. One woman stroked Prince Michael’s naked backside as he fucked her, and she found herself grow jealous. She began to test her abilities, squeezing her thighs and that made her quim grip his prick. She saw the look of surprise and pleasure on his face, so she did it again. That inspired him to fuck her faster and harder, riding her for his pleasure. What should’ve been a shameful public display began to arouse her. She stroked another man’s prick only inches from her face while he held a leash. She didn’t know which drove her arousal more, Prince Michael fucking her or her stroking a strange man’s prick while everyone watched. Her quim grew wetter the more the prick stroked her.

He finally shoved his prick deep into her quim, rocking her body as the head of his prick smashed into her cervix. She cried out, forced to take the brutal thrust, but he was already pulling out and ready to fuck back in again with the same harshness. A soft hand rubbed over his naked buttocks, feeling him clench his cheeks each time he gave Ella a forceful fuck back in. The hand slid down and caught his testicles as they swung between his legs, holding them tight in her hand. Each time he pushed forward, his balls were stretched by her unyielding hand. He enjoyed the touch of two women at one time, even better when he had two women suck him off. He found that they tried to outdo each other in sucking his prick. He wasn’t about to get off inside Ella without bringing her off first. The position he fucked her in made it difficult for his prick to rub her pleasure button, but his hand slid down to the top of her mound and sought out the red, hard bud. His finger rubbed softly over the tip of it, making her hips urge up to push it harder into his finger, but it also drove her quim up to meet his prick with more power.

She arched her backside up from the chaise when she felt his expert touch on her pleasure button. He drove his prick in harder and deeper, smashing deep inside her, but the pain meshed with the pleasure until she couldn’t distinguish one from the other. She stroked Lord Dent’s prick faster as her fingers caught the drops of his arousal as they spurted out prematurely from his prick. If she thought Prince Michael’s prick was too big before, it stretched her wider as the head swelled in anticipation. She’d soon feel for the first time a man spurt his seed in her quim.

The muscles in her quim were wreaking havoc on his prick, undulating all along the shaft with such pleasure. She’d tighten her quim on his prick when he withdrew, relaxing them when he fucked back in with all the power he could muster. Her muscles nipped at the head of his prick as if she wanted to squeeze his seed out. With his testicles expertly milked, he was ready to cum. He saw the look on her face and knew she was ready, too.

It was as if Prince Michael was the conductor and Lord Dent and she were the symphony. He directed them all until the final crescendo and they all came explosively at the same time. Ella came when she felt the first powerful jet of his seed splash inside of her once-virgin passage. It sent her muscles into spasms of pleasure as the orgasm raced through her body. Her hand spurred Lord Dent, and she watched as she held his prick up into the air and he shot out his thick, white seed into the air, only to fall back and coat her hand with the hot seed. The air was thick with the smell of sex.

It was as though her quim dragged the cum from his clenched balls as they were milked by a strange hand behind him. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to as he spurted repeatedly as Ella’s juices flooded his prick. Even Lord Dent was satisfied as Ella expertly made him shoot out his seed for all to see.

It took a long time for all of them to finish. It was Lord Dent first as Ella’s hand stroked the last drops from his prick. Someone politely wiped his prick when her hand deserted it. Prince Michael finally shot the last of his seed inside her, but he stayed to enjoy the pleasure as her uncontrollable muscles slowly pushed him out. She felt a flood of juices flow from her quim as Prince Michael stood up. Ella was jealous as a woman knelt at his feet and her mouth licked his prick clean.

All of a sudden, it was as if it was an orgy. Everyone stripped off their clothes. Lord Dent might have just cum, but that didn’t slow him down the least. He had two lovely women tied up to the wall. Their arms were tied and spread high up until their lean, naked bodies were drawn taunt. Clad only in their boots, their legs were spread wide and bound; their backsides faced him in an open invitation.

It was the woman that had cleaned Prince Michael’s prick that picked up a leather strap. Ella never saw anything like it before. Four leather straps, each about an inch thick hung off the handle. The women that hung from the wall looked back at her, but it wasn’t pleasure that was etched on their faces, it was fear. Her hand rose back and the first blow of the leather strap struck one of the bound women on her naked backside with a loud thud, and it was followed by a hoarse cry. All turned to see what had happened, but no one tried to stop it as the woman slashed across her buttocks once again with the same results, a thick thud and loud scream. Ella could see the red marks on her buttocks where the straps had found the soft, unprotected flesh and bit into it harshly. The bound woman began to dance beneath the strap. Her hips moved briskly from side to side as if she could escape the harsh bite of the whip, but it did no good. The woman with the whip wheeled it with such accuracy and authority. It wasn’t long before the buttocks of the bound woman were laddered with red marks from the top of her buttocks all the way down to where her buttocks met the soft flesh of her thighs. Not a single piece of flesh was immune from the attack, and the woman cried louder as the four straps slapped so close her quim. Her shrill cry rang out in the room as the four strands of the whip found her crack and sliced up the sharp divide with such accuracy. When the strap withdrew, Ella saw her tiny anus swollen and red where the strap had taken its toll.

Ella could only watch as the woman with the whip took to the other bound woman with the same fervor. She had her bouncing around and screaming as the whip lashed into her soft, unprotected flesh. Tears ran down her face before the whipping had stopped. One woman was retied to the wall, facing out, her legs spread to reveal her quim, her breasts pushed out proudly in the spread-eagle position for all to see. The other woman was brought over for Lord Dent’s pleasure. It was some kind of saw horse, bolted to the ground so it wouldn’t tip over.

“Bend over it or you’ll find yourself back on the wall,” Lord Dent ordered her.

Charity felt a hand push down on her back, and then, she felt the saw horse cut across her belly as she was bent in two. Her head hung to the ground, her brown hair fanned out in front of her as the blood rushed to her brain. Someone grabbed her hair and yanked it harshly to the ground until it felt like every strand would be plucked painfully from her skull. She was forced to push her hands to the ground to steady herself when she felt hands on her ankles. Her legs were spread wide to the edges of the saw horse.

Lord Dent stood behind her, completely naked as he stroked his prick back to such hardness. The whipping of a woman always inspired his lust. His hand stroked her naked backside to ignite the pain in the whipped flesh. It would inspire her to toss around more and give him more pleasure.

Charity cried out when she felt a hard prick force its way inside her with a brutal thrust that sent her quim from empty to full in seconds. His prick ripped out and was back again with equal vigor. The saw horse bounced noisily on the floor as Charity was fucked hard and fast. There would be no pleasure in this act for her, only for the man that took her. She couldn’t see who it was, but he was hard and formidable, not one of the older men. His hands slapped her buttocks as the pain raced through her muscles as his hand took its toll on her whipped flesh. Her inner muscles clenched on the pain, and she knew that she’d give him a good ride from her pain.

Ella watched Lord Dent fuck her. He might have cum once, but his stamina was admirable. His hips were a blur as he continued to pound into his prey with such precision. He finally came, but he didn’t shoot his seed inside her. He pulled his prick out at the last minute and rubbed it on her buttocks. His white seed shot out and covered her flesh with the thick crème; sure that it burned her whipped flesh.

Ella wanted to wait to see what happened to the other bound woman, but she was pressed into service. Her naked body was bent over another man. Lord

Dowell, he introduced himself like a good gentlemen, though his hands were on her head and he pushed her mouth onto his prick. His wife, Maud, smiled at Ella as she watched her husband take Ella’s mouth as if everyone did such a thing.

“Curl your fingers around my testicles and take my prick in your mouth. Prince Michael tells me you are quite adept at sucking pricks.”

His prick stood up, but he wasn’t as young and virile as Lord Dowell. He and his wife were in their late fifties, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make his prick hard. She opened her mouth wide as his hands on her head became more determined. The head of his prick slipped through her lips and stained them with his leaking juices. He stopped when the head was swallowed up by her lips, but she knew why. Her tongue began to curl around the head, swishing excitedly over it to extract more of his leaking seed. She flicked it back and forth over the very tip until she got the first jet of his seed, shooting prematurely in her mouth as she forced his excitement. Her fingers ran over his hairy, wrinkled testicles until she could trap them. His hips drove up higher when she squeezed them, but he cried out in pleasure as more of his prick was sucked into her mouth.

Maud leaned over Ella. “Suck him good.” She slapped Ella’s buttocks, but then, her fingers crept between her legs and began to stroke her quim. She felt the wetness begin to flow in spite of the fact that it was a woman that stroked her so expertly. Or maybe she just enjoyed being forced to perform on any man.

Lord Dowell began to instruct her with his hands on her head, but he soon learned he didn’t need to. Whatever he said, she did, no matter what. “Take it deeper,” and soon, her mouth slid up and down the shaft, going lower each time until the prickly hairs on his balls were pushed into her face. The head of his prick went deep into her mouth and made her gag when it pushed into the tiny opening of her throat, but she made no attempt to push back even as he heard the deep gags from her belly. Maud was working over her quim, but she’d punctuate the pleasure with sharp slaps to her buttocks.

Her mouth was filled with his salty seed, but she didn’t stop. His wife rubbed her quim with such skill, and the sharp slaps on her buttocks turned to pleasure, not to pain. Ella didn’t understand why, but she didn’t care.

“Hold the head in your mouth and stroke it with your hand. He’s ready to shoot, and he likes to see it shoot in your mouth,” Maud instructed Ella, and she obeyed without question.

Prince Michael smiled as he saw Ella with Lord Dowell. His wife and he made Ella suck him, and he was ready to cum. Ella opened her mouth wide, the head of Lord Dowell’s prick sat on her tongue as her hand stroked the shaft and her other hand cupped his testicles, ready to milk them. He saw the shocked look on her face when he shot out profusely in her mouth, but she never backed off as the thick crème filled her mouth. When he finished shooting, her lips closed tightly over the head, and he saw her tongue move beneath her cheek as she washed him down obediently.

Ella was fucked by Prince Michael one more time as she spread her legs and bent her body. Her mouth was taken by another hard prick, but this man wasn’t a gentlemen. He didn’t introduce himself before he pushed his prick into her mouth. But, that made little difference to Ella. She came with the both of them.





Chapter 10





Depravity and Debauchery


For two days, Elizabet was either bound or tight-laced for Lady Oates. It didn’t take Elizabet long to find out how to move her body in the right way to make the ropes or laces that split her open move with such pleasure. When Lady Oates unbound her, it took her only minutes for her to stroke Elizabet until she came like a trained animal. She loved it too much.

“Tonight, you have a special guest,” Lady Oates instructed Elizabet, but she gave her no more details.

The room downstairs filled up quickly, including Prince Michael and Ella. When Ella found out it was Elizabet that would be put on display once again, she wouldn’t miss it for the world. Ella wore a shimmering white dress, the bosom cut so low that her nipples peaked out. The edge of the dress rubbed over them with the slightest of movements, and they were big, red and swollen as a result. It was as if they begged for the touch of any man. The dress was long, but it was cut up the middle, between her legs almost to her waist in the front and back. Each step she took made it part and gave all eyes an inviting look of what lay between her legs, front and back, for she wore no undergarment beneath it. Prince Michael was equally handsome in his tight pants. His prick was pushed into a tight cup that protruded in the front to secure his testicles as well. The material around his privates was drawn so tight you could see the outline of his prick, from the head all the way to the bulging veins in the shaft.

Ella was greeted with friendly smiles and fondling hands, but Prince Michael wasn’t immune to the same treatment. His prick rose to greater prominence as lovely women stroked him as they talked to him.

Ella saw one woman, bound on her knees over the back of her chair. She didn’t look like she took to it willingly. Her lovely lips were split by a red cloth that sufficiently gagged her except for some small cries that managed to escape. Her legs were spread wide to the edges of the large, wooden chair bolted to the floor. A rope encircled her waist and the back of the chair to limit her movements and keep her from escaping. Her wrists were bound in front of her and pulled down the front of the chair so that it left her large breasts hanging and available. She was naked except for a small undergarment, but it was pulled down her thighs until it left her quim and buttocks naked and revealed to all eyes. Her eyes were wide open in terror.

A group of people gathered around her, talking as though it was a church social that they attended. Except for one woman’s hand that explored the bound woman’s naked ass. No one stopped her, but they all stared at the bound woman. But this wasn’t why Ella was here. She wanted to see Elizabet perform. She hoped it would be equally degrading and painful.

Elizabet was marched ceremoniously through the room. She was naked except for the ropes that encircled her body with such precision. Her breasts were cut by ropes to make them stand up fully, but the ropes also split then and compressed them until her nipples were swollen with trapped blood. The rope around her waist was tight and forced her belly in, but it was the rope that was drawn between her legs and her crack that dug in the deepest. Every step that Elizabet took made the rope ride up and down with something that bordered between pain and pleasure, Elizabet never truly understood which. It hurt as the rough rope rubbed her, yet the rope grew wet with her juices.

Lady Oates proudly led her by the leash. Lord Ben Pickard had requested the honor of Elizabet tonight, and Lady Oates would be paid handsomely for providing Elizabet to him in the manner he desired. It would be a truly degrading and loathsome act he’d perform on her for all to see, but Lady Oates would see that Elizabet got her pleasure from it, though not as she would expect.

Elizabet saw it before her and shivered in fear and pleasure. It was a sturdy fixture, and she saw its purpose immediately, or at least she thought she did. It was a cross, although more of an X than a cross, yet it was parallel to the ground, not upright. It was made of thick, hewn wood and held up by a system of supports that were bolted to the floor with iron bolts. Front and back, at the end of each beam were thick leather straps bolted into the wood. Once secured, she’d be spread wide and defenseless. The only thing that confused her was that it was so low to the ground and the beams were twice as wide as needed to be to secure her limbs. The leather straps were attached to one side of the beam, not in the center.

Lady Oates made quick work of taking the ropes off Elizabet as she stared at the fixture. She didn’t want her to change her mind before she’d be secured. “Would you help me, Lord Pickard?”

Ben stood in front of Elizabet, and his prick stirred with such excitement. He loved a woman that had a bit of meat on her bones. Elizabet was a full-figured woman, and naked, she was tantalizing. “I’m Lord Ben Pickard, Elizabet,” he introduced himself like any gentleman, but his hands reached out for her as he said it. He found her nipples hard and pouting as his fingers ran over the very tips and teased them to points. He moved closer until he could rub his prick on her naked mound, slowly from side to side.

He was certainly excited when he looked at her body. Elizabet felt his erection push into her naked quim. For a man that was twenty years her senior, he was still formidable. He rubbed her quim with his erection and even though his trousers were rough, her quim soon wet them with her increasing arousal. He’d know her shame when he pulled away and found his trousers wet with her juices.

He finally had to back away, but his hand slid down her belly and through the fine hairs of her mound. He found her quim wet and so were his trousers. He knew most women took offense at what he proposed, but he thought Elizabet might be the exception.

His fingers tickled along her slit, and soon, he grew bolder. She spread her legs slightly without acting too bold. He stroked her, and she grew more aroused as his expert fingers extracted the pleasure from her body. The thought of being bound and spread as his prick sliced up between her legs and took her quim made it more exciting. She had to spread her legs wide to accommodate his finger as it slid unopposed in her quim. He moved around inside expertly as he explored her for something much bigger. On the low fixture, it would bring her a new sense of pleasure as his prick would rub her differently, but he’d have difficulty thrusting with much power.

He pushed two fingers inside her, and she gripped him with such intensity. His thumb found her pleasure button and soon had her ride his fingers. He looked into her face, and there was no shame as she moaned softly with pleasure. He pulled his fingers out of her quim, but he put them into his mouth and licked up her womanly nectar. “Such a delightful taste, Elizabet.”

Elizabet allowed her body to grow limp as Lord Pickard and Lady Oates began to put her onto the fixture. She was surprised when they laid her face down on it, but as soon as she felt her arms and legs spread out to the four corners, her arousal overcame her suspicion. The wood beams were cold and impersonal, but when she felt each of her wrists encircled in the thick leather straps and tightened with such finality, thoughts of discomfort were replaced with pleasure. Her ankles were next, but she wasn’t immune to the fondling hands that slid up and down her thighs. She looked and saw the others begin to gather around her once she was secured. She’d be the star attraction. She got used to that; in fact, that brought greater excitement as everyone watched her taken in such imaginative ways.

It was uncomfortable for Elizabet because there was no support for her head. Unless she strained to hold it upright, it hung down between the twin beams in the front, but Lord Pickard had come up with a novel way to support it. He put one hand under her neck and forced her head up into the air. His other hand brushed her hair to the side with such softness, but that wasn’t to be so. He had a leather strap in his hand, wide, about three inches, and he pushed it below her neck and encircled it and then drew it tight. She gulped loudly as it tightened around her throat and panic overcame her at the thought of being strangled with the strap. He released her neck, and her head started to fall back down, but the strap began to tighten. She could feel her head pulled back up into the air as he tied it to something high behind her. As he tied it tight, her head was jerked back and forth until he had it secured. Her head was forced up high in the air as she stared forward. The strap dug into her soft neck, but she couldn’t do anything any longer.

Ella watched with such fascination when Elizabet was bound so stringently. She could hardly breathe with the tight strap around her neck. Her naked body was spread, and the way the fixture was devised, her breasts hung down beneath her, unopposed and defenseless. Her legs were spread wide, and there was ample room for a man between them, but her quim was too low to be taken from behind without bending over deeply. Even her mouth wasn’t conveniently located for a prick to take it. Her quim grew wet at the thought of it being her in that predicament. What would Prince Michael do to me? She felt Prince Michael grow excited as he watched what unfolded. His hand slid over her backside, and when he pushed her dress to the side, she felt his hand touch her naked cheeks.

Lord Pickard went to her side as his eyes gazed at her firm, round buttocks. “Hand me the bolster, Lady Oates.” He pushed the leather-covered bolster beneath her hips and belly and drew her buttocks up higher. The wide spread of her legs caused her crack to split open and reveal the tiny brown star of her anus along with her pink quim that pushed out so provocatively from behind.

She could feel herself open up as her backside was obscenely thrust up. All was revealed to anyone that gazed at her. Her quim grew wetter, but her anus strangely began to open and close lewdly, Elizabet unable to control the tight muscles that protected it. Lord Pickard’s hands were back; this time, they were less forgiving. He pulled on her cheeks to open her up for intimate inspection, but then, she heard the loud slap of flesh hitting flesh, and it took her body a second to realize that it was one of her buttocks that received a powerful slap that made them jiggle in pain.

He loved the sound that his hand made on her flesh, and the skin turned a pretty pink where he’d struck. He stroked her quim to sooth her but then struck her buttocks with harsher blows to take her from pleasure to pain.

Her buttocks burned and her quim grew wet from his touch, her body confused by what he did to her. He must have struck her buttocks a dozen times before he stopped. She didn’t know what to expect now. She couldn’t turn her head very much without choking herself.

Everyone watched as Lord Pickard prepared. He had a cut-glass jar of slick oil. He stroked his prick with it first as his hand slid up and down until it glistened in the bright lights.

Ella was confused at what he did. Elizabet was more than wet enough to accommodate him, yet he covered his prick with something slippery. He moved between her legs as his prick danced excitedly in front of him when he neared her quim. But he stopped and it was his hands that moved to her backside, not her quim. He poured some of the oil on her buttocks, and it ran down her crack and over her quim. His hands returned; this time, they caressed her buttocks as he slowly rubbed the oil on her flesh. He heard her gasp in shock when his fingers slid along her crack. The wide spread of her legs left her unable to clench her cheeks as his fingers ran casually over her anus.

“No, not there,” she cried out in shame when she felt his finger touch her in such a place. Lady Oates had whipped her there, and she felt the shameful contractions of her muscles, but this was a finger that touched her. She wanted his prick between her legs to give her a sound fucking for all to see.

“Relax, Elizabet, there is nothing you can do to stop him,” Lady Oates coached her. She watched Elizabet’s face grimace as Lord Pickard began to grow more determined.

The wet, slippery finger stopped on her anus and sent the muscles into uncontrollable contractions. The finger became more insistent as it pressured her reluctant anus. She struggled, but she was bound too tight to escape the probing finger. All watched her as Lord Pickard’s finger became more assertive. “No, no,” she begged, but her anal ring began to open up under the attack.

Lord Pickard was patient, at least for now. He let her trembling anus grow accustomed to being probed. When the muscles quieted down, her anal ring began to dilate around his finger as if she welcomed the intrusion. He watched as it slowly unfurled around his finger until the tip was sucked into her bowels with such authority. He loved the gasp from her lips when he penetrated her, but it was the excitement of her inner muscles that rippled over his finger that made him look forward to the time it would be his prick that would receive the pulsating clenches of her inner muscles. He continued to press with his slick finger as she was unable to push him out once he breached the tight hole. He was fascinated as the tight ring of her anus slowly engulfed his finger up to the first joint, but he didn’t stop there. He began to move his finger, bending and stretching the tight hole for something much bigger. Each time he did, he was rewarded with another surprised gasp from her mouth.

It felt like a snake entered her as his finger slithered and slid inside her without regard. It stretched her and sent her muscles into violent contractions when his finger entered her rectum and pushed hard against the soft muscles. Why is he doing such a thing to me? His finger was more demanding as she felt his knuckles slide through her anal ring. “No more,” she begged, but it did no good. She felt his finger plunge into the depths of her bowels.

“What is he doing?” Ella was puzzled at what he did to her, but Prince Michael’s hand ran over her naked buttock as he watched what unfolded.

“I suspect she’s a virgin there, and he wants to end that.” Michael’s hand slid down her crack, and he felt Ella tighten her cheeks.

“A virgin…” Then, it dawned on her. “In her backside?” She felt Prince Michael’s hand slide between her buttocks.

“Yes, a tight, hot hole to grip his prick. It’s a different feeling from a quim. And it allows any size prick to be fully impaled inside, not like a quim.”

She kept her cheeks clenched tight and didn’t say another word to Prince Michael regarding it. She had no intentions of taking his prick up her backside, but Elizabet didn’t have a choice. She was bound and spread.

The finger in her backside moved with such urgency, thrusting in and out as if he tested her. She could feel his hard knuckles rub up and down her anal ring as it slid over his finger. It didn’t hurt, but it was shameful to be touched in such a place while everyone watched. His finger pulled out, but it never left her anus. Then, he began to push it back in again, but it was different. It felt bigger and her anal ring stretched wide to accommodate it. She gasped when it popped inside. It had to be more than one finger that stretched her. He was more aggressive this time. His finger plunged into the depths of her bowels without pause, twisting and turning them once fully seated into her rectum. Her anal ring burned at first, but he continued to push in and out until it was beaten into submission. It was worse when he pulled his two fingers apart deep inside her to stretch her wide.

She took to his fingers easily, now three fingers stretched her, but he barely got a moan out of her. Her ass hole gripped his fingers, and her muscles clenched so erotically on them. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to have her now.

Elizabet felt some relief when his fingers finally pulled out of her backside. She expected more of them to be back, but nothing happened. She couldn’t turn her head to see. Then, she felt something behind her. The fixture she was on moved, and then, she felt flesh touch her legs on the inside. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t do that, would he?

Lord Pickard began to mount the fixture. He put his legs on the inside of hers, the beams wide enough to support him with ease, but he wouldn’t be as spread open as she was. His hands rubbed up the back of her thighs and then over her buttocks. His fingers dug into her firm buttocks and yanked them apart until her anus unfurled beneath his strong fingers that pulled them apart. He began to lay his body on her, lowering himself down onto her buttocks as his hand held his prick out. He got on his knees to support himself until he could be fully embraced in her ass hole. His hand began to slide the head of his prick back and forth along her crack, making sure that she felt the pulsating head on her anus and she could feel its girth.

It felt like a log was pushed between her cheeks. She couldn’t tighten her buttocks; the fixture had her spread too wide. Her anus was rubbed by the hard helmet of his prick, and she felt the overpowering size of it when it pushed against her reluctant anus. Even his three fingers were no comparison to the girth of his prick. She felt his hand slide his prick over her anus, but this time, he stopped and held it there. She could only imagine how it looked, his steely prick as it stood up in the air and poised over her delicate anus. “No, not there, fuck my quim with your manly prick,” she begged.

“Take it; let me in,” he ordered her as his fingers curled around his shaft to keep it from bending as he slowly began to impale her.

She couldn’t believe how big he was as he pushed into her tiny hole. The head of his prick was slick, and she couldn’t keep it out as her anal ring slowly spread open from the determined push. It spread wider and wider, stretching her much more than the fingers had done, yet it still sought more. “OOOOWWW!” Her piercing cry rang out in the room when the head of his prick could no longer be kept out. Her anal ring stretched until it felt like it would tear, but then, she felt the relief as the thick helmet of his prick entered her rectum like a giant rock. She could feel it stretch her as it moved uncontrollably as soon as he was inside. Her insides were molded around his prick.

Ella couldn’t believe that she took his prick in her backside, but Lord Pickard’s prick stood out of her tiny hole. Elizabet must be in sheer agony, yet it was only the head that was inside her. Lord Pickard was long as well as having girth, and he looked determined.

“Now you got it inside, Elizabet, take the rest of it, and then, I’ll give you a thorough ass fucking.” Lord Pickard’s prick felt like it was in a furnace—hot, tight flesh encased it and her muscles clenched to push him out, but all he felt was the pleasure of the rippling muscles along the head of his prick. He began to push in with his hips as his body slowly began to lay on hers as he fed his prick into her ass. It was difficult, but he suffered with such pleasure. He’d feed her an inch but then pulled out until only the head was nestled in her tight, hot hole. Then, he’d go back to feed it back in to stretch her as he fed another inch before her muscles could stop him. He continued to drive in and out to feed her inch after inch and then rip back out.

It felt like miles of prick was shoved up her backside. It stretched her in ways that she shouldn’t be stretched. He was relentless, pulling his prick back out, but never letting it escape from her tight hole. The deeper he went, the harder his thrusts were inside her. He took her breath away as he fed five, six inches of hard prick into her bowels. It was just as disconcerting when he withdrew. It felt like her guts were sucked out behind his prick. She had to clench her muscles, a warm, squirmy feeling inside made her fear that she’d have an accident in front of everyone, in spite of the fact that she gave him such pleasure with her tight muscles. He still hadn’t bottomed out in her guts, and she feared he’d destroy her before he was fully embedded in her guts.

Ella watched as Elizabet’s face contorted in pain each time Lord Pickard thrust deep into her backside. She couldn’t believe that much of his prick could enter her, but it disappeared into her stretched hole. It was surreal to see her tiny, stretched hole run up and down his stout shaft. Ella knew that Lord Pickard got great pleasure from this act but not Elizabet.

Lord Pickard’s prick danced in the deep depths of her bowels as he finally bottomed out. He laid his body on hers, his testicles spread between her legs. He made his prick jump inside her to show her the power he had over her. “Are you ready, Elizabet? I’m going to enjoy fucking your ass. Grip my prick and make me cum, or I’ll fuck you all night,” he warned her. He began to draw his long prick out of her ass hole before pushing back in.

Lady Oates was ready with a surprise for Elizabet. She might not get any pleasure from Lord Pickard’s act of sodomy, but this was sure to bring pleasure to him. She leaned under the fixture as Lord Pickard’s ass began to hump up and down as he took Elizabet in her ass hole. She took the black cloth off it that hid it from Elizabet’s eyes.

Ella saw Lady Oates fool with something beneath the fixture, torn between watching Lord Pickard shove his prick ruthlessly in and out of Elizabet’s backside and seeing what lay waiting beneath Elizabet. It was some kind of device. It looked like a round barrel on a rod that allowed it to spin. But the barrel was more spokes than anything else. Then, she saw it. On one of the spokes was a small, leather paddle, but it was thick and sturdy. Lady Oates began to turn the handle on the barrel, and it began to turn. It took only a second before the paddle rose up between Elizabet’s legs. It smacked against her quim with a thick slap.

“OOOWWW!” Elizabet’s body jerked up in surprise, and her inner muscles clenched on Lord Pickard’s prick that rode her hard. He moaned in pleasure as she tightened in pain.

Lady Oates continued to turn the handle, and as the barrel turned, the paddle moved along the shaft so that the next time it found its target, it had moved to a different spot. But it still shocked Elizabet enough to get a fresh cry from her lips.

Elizabet couldn’t concentrate. The prick that ripped up and down her guts was hard enough to comprehend, but now, she had something beneath her slapping her quim with such regularity; though it hit different spots, it never deserted her quim. It took pleasure in striking her lips or straight up her slit to attack her soft inner lips like a hive of bees. Each time it did, the pain shot between her legs and she uncontrollably clenched all her inner muscles. She heard Lord Pickard’s cry of pleasure as her tight muscles around his prick. His prick and the paddle were relentless in taking her. She heard something and confirmed it next time the paddle hit her quim. Just before it hit her, she could hear a click as if the paddle was pulled back and released to strike her with such intensity. It made her tense up sooner and tighten on his prick as if she milked it for his pleasure.

Lord Pickard was in heaven, struggling not to cum too soon, enjoying the way her muscles tightened and clenched onto his prick with such loving care and pleasure. Lady Oates had outdone herself with the paddle, and she was worth every bit he’d paid her.

Ella watched in amazement. Elizabet cried out when she was taken in such an unlikely place by Lord Pickard’s big prick, but now that the paddle attacked her quim, it was as though she welcomed them both. She cried out now, but it was pleasure that was etched on her face. Prince Michael had grown excited at what took place, and his finger explored her crack. She couldn’t stop him as he touched her anus, and soon, she found herself similarly impaled on a demanding finger, just as Elizabet did at the beginning. It felt strange and uncomfortable as it moved inside her, but it didn’t hurt, not like a prick would.

“I’m going to cum into that hot, tight ass hole Elizabet. Milk the cum from my prick with your muscles.” Lord Pickard couldn’t wait much longer.

“Not, not yet, please, no!” Elizabet cried out in despair. “Spin it faster,” she pleaded for her pleasure. It wouldn’t take much more to make her cum on the harsh bite of the leather paddle.

Lord Pickard struggled not to cum, but the way Elizabet clenched on his prick made it difficult. Luckily, Lady Oates spun the whip faster and Elizabet soon cried out in pleasure as Lord Pickard unleashed his seed in her ass hole with such power. Each time he jetted, her muscles would squeeze tight until he jetted again. He didn’t know whether his cumming started it or her clenching did. He shot inside her four times until his testicles were drained, yet Elizabet took longer to finish. He left his prick in her ass hole until she done and waited for her to squeeze his prick out. When it finally popped out, he was already gaining his hardness back. She’d take him again soon enough, but there were others that wanted the pleasure of her ass hole, in spite of them having to swim in his seed.

Michael would have to teach Ella to cum under the harsh bite of a whip. “Come, let us find someplace that I can tie you up and have my way with you.”

She was led off; nervous that Prince Michael would take her as Lord Pickard had taken Elizabet once she was bound. Tonight, she found herself bound to a sturdy wood frame bolted to the wall and the floor. Her arms were drawn high to the top beam and spread wide, bound in leather cuffs. Her feet hung down, unable to touch the floor. Prince Michael had stripped her naked for all to see and then left her but not alone. Men gathered around her instantly, taking their turn with her, Ella was unable to stop them from stroking her. Each man was a gentleman, introducing themselves as if they were at a grand ball, but they soon turned to stroking her body intimately. She knew it was useless to clench her legs tight to stop them, and parted them as fingers stroked her slit and made her grow wet. The first man wouldn’t stop until he made her cum for him, but he was good at what he did, and it didn’t take Ella long before she responded to his caresses. Soon, two fingers pushed inside her as her pleasure button was sought out by his other hand and rubbed so expertly. Not even when he pinched and pulled on it did it dull the pleasure that raced through her body as she came explosively.

Prince Michael was back and took her down, but he wanted his pleasure now. He placed her sitting on a hard wood table as others gathered around to partake of his pleasure. He spread her legs wide as she leaned back onto her hands. He stood in front of her, his hard prick out as he stroked it.

“Yes, take me,” she begged him in spite of already having her pleasure. She felt the head of his prick pushed between the lips of her quim. He was eager for his pleasure and thrust inside until three inches of his rock-hard prick filled her. Someone grabbed her hair and curled their fingers into it so she couldn’t escape. She was pushed onto her back just as Prince Michael pushed deeper into her quim with a powerful thrust that took her breath away. He began to fuck her, hard and fast. The hand that held her hair turned her head sideways, and she came face to face with another hard prick that demanded her attention. She didn’t even see the face of the man before her mouth was filled with his prick. Luckily, she obliged him and opened her mouth wide, but it was the tug on her hair that forced her to accommodate him.

“Suck the head, Ella. Use your tongue and run over it,” he encouraged her.

At the same time, Prince Michael wanted all of her attention, so she clenched the muscles of her quim to give him all the pleasure she wanted as he began to fuck her vigorously. She tried to keep the prick in her mouth satisfied as her tongue began to lick the leaking juice that she inspired in him.

“Yes, good, Ella. Now take it deeper,” he encouraged her, but with his hand entwined in her hair, he enforced his demands by pulling her down onto his prick. “Make your lips tight,” he ordered her and moaned in pleasure when her tight lips rippled up and down the shaft of his prick.

Her mouth and quim were filled with hard, demanding pricks, each sought to shove deeper into her body. She was torn with giving them both pleasure.

“Your quim nips at my prick and gives me so much pleasure,” Prince Michael cried out as he fully impaled her. He saw her with her mouth filled with another prick as she struggled to contain the length of it without choking.

“All the way down, Ella. Take all of my prick in your mouth. Give me my pleasure.” Her head moved and her tight lips slowly ran down the shaft until she got almost to the bottom. “Hold it,” he ordered her. She stopped as his prick danced in her mouth and pushed against the opening of her throat. She gagged, but she never backed off. “Suck again,” he ordered her, but after a few more sucks, he wanted her to take it all again. “All the way down and hold it, Ella.”

Her mouth began to fill with his leaking cum; the thick crème blanketed her tongue. He never pulled his prick out of her mouth, so she had to swallow or choke to death on it.

It was as if each man tried to drive her to the brink, seeking their pleasure with her quim and mouth. She found the pleasure in serving any man with a hard prick.





Chapter 11





Midnight Visitor


Her life was a contrast. While with Prince Michael at his castle, he was a gentleman with her for all to see. She walked by his side, her head held high to be with someone as important as him. He introduced her to everyone, and he sought out her advice on matters big and small. They ate intimate meals together and also state dinners where the king was present and all the important people of the realm. She became accepted in royal society.

They made gentle love at night and in the morning as new lovers did. He was kind, considerate and a wonderful lover that always gave her pleasure. She did the same for him.

But, then, there were the nights when the Hellfire Club met. It was more frequent than she expected. Those nights, she’d dress in scandalous costumes that displayed her half-naked body. Men would openly caress her in front of Prince Michael, but the women did the same to him.

It was here that she found her body stripped naked and bound to unforgiving devices that left her spread and available to anyone and anything. Prince Michael taught her to love the whip, relishing in the exquisite pleasure that it brought her when it sought out her intimate body. It was as if he trained her body to seek out pain or pleasure in such places until it no longer mattered which. They all brought about the same results. Ella would cum explosively for any man skilled enough to arouse her to a fever pitch.

There was but one act that wasn’t committed on her body, and she wasn’t sure why not. But she found out a few weeks later why. They had a lovely dinner and had brandies in the library before turning in for the night. The Hellfire Club had not met for a week, but Ella expected it to be soon. They went to their room. Prince Michael sat in the chair in their bedroom, and Ella knew what he wanted. She could already see the bulge in his trousers.

She teased him with a smile as she reached behind to undo the laces on her dress. She took her time, and it wasn’t long before Prince Michael’s hand strayed onto his lap and his fingers curled around his stout prick. She would’ve done it for him, but she continued to undress. She pulled the gown down in the front until her corset was revealed. He liked her corset tight so her breasts stood up proudly. She pushed the gown down over her hips and to the floor and stepped out of it. She’d pick it up later. Prince Michael grew more inspired, and his fingers moved faster on his prick. She looked at him and teased him with her half-naked body as she went about the task of taking off her corset. It wasn’t an easy garment to remove by herself since it was cinched tight, but she hurried to undo it.

Michael wished she’d hurry, but he tried to contain his lust. It wasn’t time yet, but soon, it would be. He watched as she finally got the corset off, a modern contraption that contained a woman’s body as tight as bondage would be, yet they never complained. He looked at her almost-naked body, only her thigh-high stockings covered her flesh, the rest was naked for his pleasure.

Ella posed for him, her legs spread slightly to give him a view without being too gaudy. She arched her back and thrust her breasts out as the tips hardened with the slightest provocation. She watched as Prince Michael stood up, expecting that he’d take her to bed, but as he walked over to her, he opened his trousers, and it didn’t take long for his big prick to stand up majestically.

He pressed up against her, and she put her arms around his neck as she pressed her naked body up against his.

He’d never taken her like this, but his prick felt good as it rubbed up against her. She was sure that he’d make her stand up on her toes when he thrust inside her. His hand gripped her hips as she curled one leg around his to spread her legs to accommodate his prick inside her. She moaned softly as he began to rub the head of his prick up and down her slit. She aided him with her juices. She was suddenly startled by a loud noise behind her, and as she tried to turn to see what it was, Prince Michael held her against him. She saw a familiar cloud in the room behind her, and she knew what it was. “Straparola.” She called out his name.

It took a minute for the smoke to clear until he stood there before her, dressed eloquently for his presence before Prince Michael. “Good evening, Prince Michael. Good evening, Ella. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He had a smirk on his face as he said it. He saw Ella’s naked body, and his prick rose up to such prominence. He’d never seen her completely naked before, and he was impressed with her full backside, split deliciously up the middle by her sharp divide.

“You catch me naked with a prick about to enter me and you ask that question?”

“You are a delightful creature, Ella, and I missed you. I’m sure that Prince Michael has taught you much, but I thought you might need the help of your fairy godfather.”

“What would you help me with, Straparola?”

“I’m sure that your hot, tight quim could use a hard prick inside.”

“I’m already working on that, and you seemed a bit overdressed to help with anything.”

“Hold on for a second, Ella. I can accommodate you.” With a snap of his fingers, the room filled with smoke once again. This way was much easier. When the smoke cleared, he appeared before her again, this time a changed man.”

She looked at him, and she had to smile. He was certainly changed. He wore not a stitch of clothing, and his hand was already wrapped around his prick. She didn’t say anything when he moved next to her. His hands moved gently on her buttocks, softly caressing them. “I hope you don’t mind, Prince Michael?”

“Straparola has been a friend of the kingdom for centuries, Ella. He’s welcome wherever he wants to go.”

Ella had no choice, both pushed up against her, trapped between two demanding men that wanted her. She didn’t know how, but she’d soon learn. She felt Straparola’s hand become more questing, sliding over her buttocks and also between her cheeks. What should have been so obvious only now became so clear. She felt his prick begin to rub on her buttocks, and she felt how much bigger it had become. It was her backside that inspired his lust. Ella had seen how Elizabet took a prick in her backside, but this would be much more challenging. Both men wanted to be inside her at the same time, and she wasn’t sure there would be room. “Not the both of you, that’s too much,” she cried out.

“There’s never too much prick, Ella.”

“I’ll never survive them both at once.” But, Straparola already pressed harder into her buttocks and his fingers slid between her cheeks and she felt his large finger slid along her crack until it stopped on the raised bud of her anus. She’d been touched there but nothing as big as a prick had been inside.

Straparola had already lubricated his finger, and he began to press against the tight knot of her anus. “Relax; let me open you up. It’ll make it easier for me.” His finger began to push harder against her anus. He felt her muscles ripple in fear, but his finger was determined, and soon, her tiny hole dilated to accept his fingertip. It slipped into the hot, tight hole as her muscles snapped tightly on it as she tried to push it out. He twisted his finger, and soon, her rectum accepted his finger without pause.

She squirmed forward as his finger invaded her backside, but Prince Michael was ready. His prick was nestled against her quim, and when she tried to evade the finger in her backside, she impaled herself with such pleasure on Prince Michael’s prick. It was a strange and exciting feeling to have two men take her at one time. She had done that with her mouth and quim but never her backside. This was much different; the finger in her backside felt as though it was connected to the prick in her quim, and they tried to move deeper so they could join someplace deep inside her. The head of the prick was in her quim, but it was the finger that wormed inside her backside that moved with such urgency. She knew Straparola’s finger was lubricating her for something much bigger. His prick jerked and shuddered against her naked backside. The finger was embarrassing but not painful. It twisted and turned inside as her anal ring slipped over the knuckles as it passed back and forth. Then, a second finger joined the first and her anal ring stretched wider, slightly burning as the fingers drove into her rectum and pushed against the soft walls of her gut. She hung onto Prince Michael, but his prick began to move inside her quim, seeking a deeper entrance as though it wanted to meet Straparola’s finger between her legs.

“That’s not so bad, now is it, Ella.” He twisted his fingers inside and felt her muscles grip them.

“You say that, but you don’t have two fingers plunged up your backside,” she cried out as the fingers and prick seemed destined to join together.

Straparola pulled his fingers out, but he was back with three. Her anal ring struggled to keep him out, but his slick fingers wouldn’t be deterred. He got a gasp out of her then another when Prince Michael’s prick dug deeper into her quim. He began to finger her, greasing her up. He couldn’t contain his lust much longer.

As much as she hated the three fingers that moved around in her backside, she was distressed when they pulled out. She felt Straparola’s prick slide up and down her crack. It was so much larger than his fingers and she feared that she’d be torn up the middle when both pricks entered her at once. No woman was built to take such massive hard pricks between her legs at one time.

Straparola pressed his prick against her anus, feeling the trembling muscles push against the massive head of his prick. “Get rooted inside her, Prince Michael.”

Michael began to fuck her with his prick with short thrusts but each one deeper until he was fully embedded in her tight, hot quim. The head of his prick pushed hard against her cervix as he flexed it inside her tight quim. “I’m ready; she’s not going anywhere.”

She gripped Prince Michael’s prick, but then, she felt the head of Straparola’s prick push hard against her anus. No matter how much stretching and lubricating his fingers had done, it was no match for the size of his prick. She looked over her shoulder and down behind her, seeing his massive prick stand up and push between her cheeks. She could feel the spasms in his prick as it jerked and shuddered in excitement to penetrate her. “No, no, slowly,” she cried out, but Straparola wasn’t to be deterred. He pushed harder, and she felt her anal ring open up under the brutal pressure of his prick. She couldn’t keep it out if she tried, one prick already held her body tamed. Her anal ring began to blossom open, slowly stretching wider and wider. It burned as it spread wide, and Ella feared she’d be torn, but Straparola wouldn’t stop. “NNNOOO!” She cried out, but it was too late. The head of his prick suddenly popped inside her rectum to stretch her in a place that shouldn’t be stretched this way. Her anal ring was drawn tight around the head of his prick like the string on a bow.

“You’re trapped now, Ella. Relax and take it; there is nothing you can do but give us the pleasure we deserve.” Straparola put his hands on her hips as he stood fully behind her. He gazed down at the sight of the head of his prick swallowed up in her tight hole, but there was so much more prick that sought the hot blanket of her ass. He groaned as he pushed with his hips, and he got another inch of prick inside her before her powerful muscles could stop him. He pulled back but only until the head of his prick was trapped by her tight anal ring.

“OOOHHH,” she cried out when she felt his prick retreat. It was intense, feeling her insides grow hot and her muscles flutter uncontrollably. She was forced to tighten her muscles and that only made his prick jerk and stretch her more. He began to push in once again, and she could feel every bump and vein on his prick as they passed through her stretched anal ring. The head of his prick bore into her to push aside all resistance to stretch her in ways she shouldn’t be stretched. This time, he drove deeper just as Prince Michael began to pull his prick from her quim. It was like nothing she ever felt before. One dragged everything out, the other pushed everything in. The two pricks took possession of her. When Prince Michael pushed back in, Straparola pulled out, sucking her guts out behind the thick head of his prick. In front, she was filled, and in back, she was emptied, but they soon changed course.

“You have such a hot, tight ass, Ella. It brings me such joy.” Straparola continued to drive more of his prick inside her, and he soon felt Prince Michael’s prick rub so close inside Ella, only a thin membrane separated them. He loved the way her insides caressed his prick as he drew it out, pulling inch after inch from her guts. Her anal ring was a tight band that slid up and down as he began to fuck her ass.

It felt like she had a club shoved up her backside. Straparola’s prick was relentless. Prince Michael pushed hard, but her cervix stopped him from going too deep, but Straparola’s prick felt like it was a foot long and still drove more inside her. She was sure her guts were dragged out when he withdrew, but it was his thrust back in that took her breath away. “No more,” she begged Straparola, but he didn’t hear her or care. Each time he shoved back in, she hoped to feel his testicles swing against her buttocks, but each time, she was disappointed. Then, Prince Michael began to thrust in at the same time as Straparola. She never felt anything like it. It was as though the two pricks were one. All she felt between her legs was one giant prick that split her up the middle. She would’ve fallen onto the ground, but their pricks held her up in the air, and she couldn’t escape being speared by them.

Finally, Straparola shoved in and his testicle slapped harshly against her buttocks, but the pain was pleasure. He stopped thrusting, testicle deep in her ass and made his prick dance in the darkest depths of her bowels. “You have it all, Ella. It’s now time for some serious fucking.”

It felt like she had more than all of his prick. She was impaled front and back on two mighty pricks, and now, their hands clenched onto her flesh to hold her submissively while they took their pleasure with her. They began to drive in and out, first together, then one in and the other out, keeping her off balance, never knowing what to expect. Her insides were stretched around their pricks as they bore into the depths of her guts and quim. Her body was tossed about like a ragdoll, shoved forward onto one prick then back onto the other. They sought no pleasure for her, only for them.

“If you want us to cum in you, Ella, squeeze our pricks and drain the cum from our testicles. Otherwise, we’ll take you all night.” Prince Michael wanted his pleasure.

As painful as it was, she squeezed their pricks as if she wasn’t tight enough for them. She heard them groan as they struggled to rip their pricks out of her, but her tight muscles slowed them down. That was the only satisfaction she got from it, making them fight for their pleasure.

Her ass hole rippled up and down his prick like hundreds of tiny fingers that raced on the shaft and head of his prick. Straparola hadn’t felt such pleasure in a long time. It had to be fifty years since he took a virgin ass with another man. It always made it twice as pleasurable.

The two men didn’t last much longer when Ella put her mind into making them cum. She began to move onto her toes until she got into the right position. When Prince Michael withdrew his prick, it rubbed so erotically over her pleasure button, already swollen at being taken in this manner. Her pleasure heightened and that only made her more determined to give the men theirs. It was Straparola that came first, and it took her by surprise. She didn’t expect to feel so much in her backside, but the minute his prick spewed his seed into her with such force, her own body exploded unexpectedly. She couldn’t stop her ass muscles from gripping his prick as it swelled and spewed, and each time he did, her arousal moved up a notch. Then, Prince Michael began to shoot his seed into her unprotected quim, flooding her with his hot seed as Straparola’s prick spewed into her backside.

The three of them cried out their pleasure in the room. The smell of sweat and sex filled the air along with the slap of flesh beating flesh as the two men continued to pound their pricks into her once-unwilling holes.

Ella couldn’t stand up by herself when they withdrew their pricks from her holes. They helped her onto the bed as their cum spilled from her front and back. They rested on the bed for long minutes as they struggled to fill their lungs with air, but Ella knew that she wasn’t finished with them. Their pricks had hardly lost any of their hardness, though Ella could still feel Straparola’s prick in her ass, even though he had pulled out. She got up and cleaned up. When she came back, both men lay on the bed, stroking their pricks.

“I must have that lovely ass,” Prince Michael said when he saw her. She might not be virgin, but she’d still be tight.

“I did enjoy her mouth last time I saw her, so I think that would be a good place once you are fully seated in her ass. I wouldn’t want her biting my prick by accident.”

Ella was tossed around as though she had no say in the decisions, which she didn’t, especially when they bound her hands in front of her. When she felt the leather straps tight around her wrists, she no longer wanted a choice. She enjoyed being bound and taken in any manner, but a new dimension was added once Straparola had penetrated her backside for the first time.

Straparola lay on the bed, his legs spread wide, his testicles hung down but his prick stood up. He pulled Ella between his legs until her sweet head lay on his leg, her mouth only inches from his prick. “Lick it and get it harder until Prince Michael gets his prick deep into your guts. Then, you can suck me while he takes you in your tight ass.” He moaned as he looked at her beautiful face inches from his prick and her pink tongue slipped out of her mouth and began to race over his prick. Straparola could see that she had lots of practice since he first took her mouth, and she proved adept at the act.

Her legs were spread wide, and she felt Prince Michael climb between them. She felt a wet, slick prick slide over her cheeks, and then, she felt the pressure of a hot, hard prick push against her anus. It was sore and swollen from Straparola’s prick, but she knew that wouldn’t deter Prince Michael. He wouldn’t be happy until he sodomized her forcefully with his prick. He began to climb onto her backside and his legs pushed between her thighs and made her spread her legs wider until her crotch ached. Her anus began to open, and Prince Michael began to push with more determination. It was difficult to lick Straparola’s prick and balls while being penetrated, but Straparola would tap her face when she didn’t pay enough attention to his prick.

Michael fought to push the head of his prick into her anus, holding the shaft to keep it from bending as he began to grow impatient as soon as he felt the way her muscles tried to keep him out. It took a lunge with his hips, and suddenly, it felt like her anal ring flowered open to accept him as he felt the tight ring slide over the slick head of his prick with such pleasure. Her muscles couldn’t stop him until he had the head snuggled tightly inside, her anal ring snapped just beneath the thick ridge to caress it in the tight band.

“AAAAWWW!” It was a mixture of pleasure and pain when he entered her. His prick throbbed in her rectum, and her anal ring burned around the thick head. Before she could comprehend it all, Straparola pulled her mouth onto his prick. She had no choice as she opened her mouth wide to accept his prick. With her hands bound Straparola would do what he wanted with her mouth. She had to contend with Prince Michael as he began to drive his prick into her backside. His prick churned up her guts as he continued to bore inside her. She had already felt Straparola’s prick in her backside, so she knew how much prick she’d be forced to take before Prince Michael was fully inside her.

It didn’t take too long until both of them sought their pleasure from her. Ella’s mouth was filled with Straparola’s prick and his leaking juices and he grew too big and excited as the head of his prick began to beat at the entrance of her throat. She gagged, but that only inspired his lust, and she soon felt the head of his prick breach her throat as she coughed and gagged as she was forced to swallow it. She struggled to breathe through her nose. Prince Michael began to take her backside with the full measure of his prick, driving it deep into her guts until her stomach cramped around his prick, but her painful contractions only gave her greater pleasure as they rippled over his prick.

The room was filled with Ella’s groans and the men’s moans as they continued to ride her for their pleasure. Since they had cum once, she had to endure harder and more sustained thrusts inside her. She tried to do everything to give them their pleasure. She tightened her ass muscles on Prince Michael’s prick as he rode her hard and deep. Her tongue worked over Straparola’s prick when he finally pulled from her throat, but her lips were continually breached as he rocked her head up and down to give him all the pleasure he wanted.

This time, there would be no pleasure for Ella. It was as if both of the men conspired to cum in her at the same time. She gulped and choked as Straparola’s prick shot to the back of her mouth and she was forced to swallow his seed or choke to death. Her backside was bathed once again by powerful jets of hot crème that filled her. Even as they finished cumming in her, neither man pulled his prick out. Straparola’s prick lay in her mouth, losing its hardness once again, but he made Ella lick every drop of his seed from it. Prince Michael was too happy to be in her hot, tight ass, so the only way to get him out was to squeeze her muscles. It was a strange sensation she felt, his slick, softening prick push out until it popped out with a start and then a flood of his seed followed it. They were finally finished with her. Straparola left with a puff of smoke. She cleaned up, and when she came back to bed, Prince Michael was already asleep.





Chapter 12





The Future


True to his word, Lord Storr married Mary in a celebration that brought all from the realm to it. Mary wore a white wedding dress that outlined her shapely figure, though she wasn’t a virgin. Lord Storr was handsome in his finest whites. His prick was etched in the front of his trousers for all to see.

The church was filled as Lady Browning looked from behind the curtain. Mary stood next to her along with Elizabet. “Yes, Prince Michael is there in the front row. He’s with Ella, and he’s been with her since he met her.”

“Have you heard from Cinderella?” Mary almost forgot about her. Their house was sold and she was gone.

“No, but it doesn’t make any difference. I’m sure she’s in someone’s kitchen cooking and cleaning their chamber pots. She was good at that.” Lady Browning cared little what happened to her. Lady Browning got what she wanted, at least almost. She still had to contend with Lord Edward Storr, Hubert’s father for money. But, she found that wasn’t all bad. There was the pleasure of a stout prick between her legs in spite of his age.

Ella smiled as she saw Mary take the hand of Lord Storr in matrimony, a man twice her age, but like her mother, she settled for money, giving up her young body to him for a life of leisure, though Ella knew that Lord Storr would make sure that she was at the Hellfire Club often to serve the other members.

Elizabet was her bridesmaid, but she always had Lady Oates next to her. Lady Oates provided many wealthy men their pleasure with Elizabet in any manner that they desired, but Ella knew that she’d also allow other women to have Elizabet. Lady Browning watched her daughter marry, but it was the elder Lord Storr that got his pleasure from her if what Ella heard was correct. She, too, like her daughter had to give her body to a man much senior to her for the life of leisure she wanted to possess.

The reception was a festive event with the finest food and drink along with lively music. Everyone complimented that it was a fine celebration. The happy couple left for their honeymoon as the party began to die down. Many people left shortly after they did, but most didn’t know that the honeymoon they were about to partake of was held at the Hellfire Club and the members all wanted to take part. It was to be a special occasion, both mother and her two daughters would provide the necessary entertainment to the members.

“We don’t have to go to the Hellfire Club unless you want to, Ella?” Prince Michael would just as much take her home and have his way with her.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I hear it will be pure debauchery, the whole family will be offered up in the most degrading acts.” Ella had paid for her revenge; she wanted to see it all. She knew what they would do to Lady Browning and her daughters.”

“I thought you might. Let’s go so we can see it all.”

* * * *

There had to be over forty people there, men and women alike. In the center of the largest room, they waited patiently for Lady Browning, Elizabet and the new Lady Mary Storr.

Elizabet was led out first by Lady Oates with a leash around Elizabet’s neck to guide her. She was clad only in a tight corset, cinched so that her breasts were pushed up so high they almost escaped from the top. Her waist was drawn in so tight, but it pushed out her plump bottom. Under Lady Oates, Elizabet had lost a lot of weight. She didn’t need the tight lacing any longer to control her figure, but Elizabet found pleasure in it so it continued.

Elizabet was led to a long bench. She sat on the lower end of it. The back of the bench was reclined so that once Elizabet was seated correctly; she’d be able to see everything that happened between her legs. First, her head was collared along her forehead and also her throat so she couldn’t move it the slightest bit. Her arms were thrust over her head and tied to a post. It pushed her breasts up proudly, and they began to spill from the corset. Her legs were put into another channel of wood that ran along the bench but stopped halfway down where her feet were bound with her knees bent. Straps ran around her knees and pulled beneath the bench, forcing her legs to bow out obscenely. Her corset could barely cover her quim with her crotch opened so wide.

“Hold still,” she teased her as she took a knife to Elizabet’s corset, even though she was bound so tight it was impossible for her to move. She made short work of stripping her naked for all to see. She had a surprise for Elizabet. She had a thick wooden dowel with a strap tied to the end. Before Elizabet could muster a word of protest, Lady Oates shoved it rudely between her lips and pulled the strap behind her head and tied the other end through the small ring on the other side of her mouth. It was bound tight, so it cut her lips deep, her mouth opened wide as drool ran out. The dowel was thick, so it filled and stretched her. There would only be muffled cries from her lips.

Lady Oates adjusted the bench, pushing it back until Elizabet’s crotch rose up and she was spread from quim to anus for all to see. Both holes beckoned to all that stared.

Elizabet was excited as soon as she was bound and spread. She couldn’t wait to feel a hard prick take her once again. She cared little which hole or both that the prick would ravage.

Lady Oates had a surprise for Elizabet this time. Out walked a lady but nothing like anyone Elizabet had ever seen. She only wore a corset, but it was made special for her. Her breasts were naked and pushed up by the corset until her nipples stood out hard and erect, but it was what lay between her legs that were so unusual. Attached around her waist and crotch was an intricately carved dildo. It was a three prong dildo. One prong was swallowed up in her quim and would give her pleasure as she took Elizabet. It was made of ivory and sculptured with such care and realism. It had to be over eight inches with a corona shaped like a helmet detailed down to the sharp ridge that rimmed it. There was even a hole etched in the very tip. The shaft was carved with wrinkles of skin, thick veins and bumps all along it, and beneath the shaft were two wrinkled testicles carved with real hairs coming out of them. But that wasn’t all of it. The third prong was considerably thinner and longer by at least an inch and resembled the horn of a rhino. It would gore into its victim, but it was built for Elizabet’s ass hole.

“Lady Gower, she is all yours.” Lady Oates stepped aside and saw the shocked look in Elizabet’s eyes. Lady Gower was much older, but her dildo knew no age, only its hardness.

Elizabet could only watch as Lady Gower ran her hands across her naked body, but her eyes were continually drawn to the duel dildo that protruded out so proudly. It was long and thick. It would take her without regard, forcing her to spread open and accept its thickness. Not only would her quim be violated, but her anus also would be forced to accommodate the slimmer dildo. Both would drive in deep and take possession of her. In spite of her fear, her body responded to the hands that stroked her. Lady Oates had taught her that another woman knew her body better and could pleasure her like no man could. She was correct as her quim grew wet as the fingers rubbed her so erotically. She sought out her pleasure button, trapped it with her fingers and then rode the very tip back and forth with such a pleasing touch.

Ella never saw anything like this before. She stroked Elizabet, and from the look in Elizabet’s eyes, she did it well. Elizabet trembled in the tight bondage, and she grew wet. But there was still fear in her eyes as Lady Gower went between Elizabet’s legs. It took a bit, but soon, the smooth dildos found their targets.

Elizabet couldn’t move as she felt the thrilling touch of the twin objects on her exposed holes. She felt the pressure but could do nothing as the smooth, lubricated instruments began to slide to the hilt inside her. Elizabet, bound hand and foot, accepted the fate of being taken by a woman in two holes at once. There was no doubt it was painful, stretched wide around the twin prongs, but it was far less agonizing pain than she expected. She’d already taken a prick in her ass hole, but this was still harder and shoved in deeper with the initial thrust. It brought Elizabet a bizarre sensation as her two holes were penetrated so deep and full. Lady Gower began to fuck her with the savagery of a man. Yet, it was pleasure that she felt, bound with both of her holes filled. She began to fuck back, squeezing the dildos as if she could make them cum. She couldn’t tell which one of the prongs gave her more pleasure, the one in her quim or the long, thin prong that sliced up her ass hole.

Ella was enthralled at the way Elizabet fucked back the two fake pricks. She no longer cared that they weren’t flesh. Hard and demanding was enough for her. Lady Gower used her for over ten minutes, never slowing down as Elizabet rode the twin prongs.

Elizabet’s body exploded when she came, not sure how or why, but the twin prongs took her in just the right way. She couldn’t believe that she got pleasure from another woman, especially one that sported twin dildos. Everyone watched in amazement as her body shuddered and shook in the tight bondage and her juices flowed freely over the ivory dildo that split her quim.

Prince Michael knew that the next part was what Ella would relish more. They brought out two large wooden benches with pillories in the front. They were put together, face to face. He saw the smile on Ella’s face when Mary and Lady Browning were brought out by father and son.

Mary stood next to her mother as Hubert began to undress her for all to see her naked on her wedding day as his father, Edward, did the same to her mother. She knew that the father took his pleasure from her mother, though she didn’t care to see it. They both did what they had to in order to survive in the manner they grew accustom to. Mary hated that Prince Michael and Ella sat in the front row to see their shame. She refused to look at the devices they brought in, knowing that they’d be bound to them and left defenseless to their fate. The unknown was what she feared. She would’ve never guessed what was done to Elizabet, the men and women of the Hellfire Club knew no boundaries of debauchery.

It didn’t take long before she stood naked next to her mother. Hubert and Edward stroked their bodies and made them spread their legs for all to see as they pulled back the wings of their quims to show their growing wetness. But the most shameful was when they had to turn their backs to the crowd with their legs spread and then forced to pull apart the cheeks of their backside until all was exposed. They had to hold that position so all could clearly see the way their anal rings revolted. Their muscles clenched and unclenched lewdly.

It was now time to secure them. The women’s bodies were placed on the wooden devices. The length of the devices held a single board, but it stood up on its end. The edge of it was chiseled so that it wasn’t smooth. It had ridges, dents and ripples all along it. As each woman was placed on the device, their legs were pulled over each side and as they were lowered onto the ridge, the men made sure that the lips of their quims were pulled back around the ridge. The hard, wood ridge made contact with the soft, inner lips of their quims. Their heads were quickly secured in the pillory as well as their arms until they couldn’t move. Then, the men secured their legs, their knees bent and drawn back so that their asses were thrust up. The wooden ridge was raised up to make contact with their quims once again; this time, it pressed painfully into their sex.

Mary found her quim split up the middle, and the slightest movement on the thick ridge between her legs rubbed her quim harshly. It felt like there were splinters in the wood that drove through the soft flesh of her inner lips. Her ass was thrust up prominently, and she feared that was where she’d be taken. She stared at her mother in front of her, bound in the same position, her face etched with pain.

Lady Browning had never been abused in such a manner as this before. Her quim felt like it was torn. She tried to shift her weight, but it only added to her misery. With the spread of her legs and the thrust of her ass, she was pushed up to be taken from behind. She faced her daughter, and she was in a similar strait.

Hubert and Edward quickly stripped off their clothes, eager to have their pleasure. They each picked up three-strand whips. The strands were only a couple of inches long, but the leather was thick. It would strike with a nice bite without truly damaging the flesh for more than a couple of days.

Hubert walked near Mary’s head. “It’s time for the last dance of the day, Mary.” He lashed out with the whip to strike her on one naked buttock with a resounding slap that rang out in the room. It was followed by another, as if it was an echo, as his father, Edward, had slapped Lady Browning’s buttocks with the same attention.

“OOOWW,” Mary cried out, her body jerked, but it was her quim that took the brunt of the anguish. It rubbed up and down the ridge with such ferocity. Hubert hadn’t tied her, so she couldn’t move; in fact, it was the opposite. He wanted to drive her body back and forth across the unforgiving ridge as he whipped her.

Ella almost cried out in laughter as she saw the way the two men worked them over with the whips. No part of their bodies was immune, though she could tell that they didn’t put much strength behind each blow. It was more to shock the women into moving on the ridge. Their breasts hung down and made it convenient for the whip to come up from below and find their nipples. They slapped them back and forth until they swelled up, Ella not sure if in pleasure or pain or both.

The cracks of their asses were attacked with the whips. Each time the women jerked and moved on the ridge, their cheeks would unfurl and leave the tiny brown hole defenseless. The men waited for this opportune time to slap the hole with the whip. The startled cries of the women only inspired the men to work the tiny holes over until they swelled up and turned a pretty pink, all while the women danced on the ridge. But it was Hubert that noticed the ridge was now stained between their legs, and it wasn’t blood. They might cry out, but their quims stained the wood with their juices.

Mary feared that she would cum and be shamed in front of her mother. She couldn’t understand how her body reacted this way. Had my husband taught me to love pain as much as pleasure? She was once an innocent virgin, but he stripped her naked for all to see and made her suck the pricks of any man that wanted her. Her virginity was taken by her husband, but other men came inside her. Now, she feared what was next. There was only one hole that never housed a man’s prick.

Lady Browning couldn’t take her eyes off Edward’s prick. How did he get so hard at his age? He wielded the whip with such skill, and it aroused her body to a fever pitch. Her pleasure could only be brought about by rubbing her quim on the hard and unforgiving ridge, but that was what she did. Her juices soaked it.

Mary and her mother knew it was time when the men took the whip handles and coated them liberally with oil. They lost sight of the one behind each one, but they could see the one behind the other. Mary saw the whip moved down behind her mother until she felt it on her anus. It was hard and demanding, and the slick oil made it impervious to her clenching anus. She felt her anal ring begin to flourish open as the hard leather handle began to pass through her tight hole. The handle wasn’t smooth but had leather laces run around it and rubbed her tiny, whipped hole as it began to push in. She felt it slowly move inside her rectum and then fingers twisted the handle so she’d feel the very rough edge of the laces. It began to move in and out, but it never exited, as her anal ring clutched it possessively. It went in deeper, and she felt it begin to fuck her ass. She knew it would be replaced with something much bigger soon enough. The whip handle, while rough, wasn’t very formidable, not like Hubert’s prick. She’d have to stretch wide to take the girth inside, but she feared the length just as much. Yet, she had no choice and neither did her mother. She saw the anguished look on her face as she suffered a similar fate. Their destiny was to be sodomized by father and son for all to see.

The whip handles were rudely pulled out of their asses, and the men stood in front of them and offered up their pricks to their open mouths. “Get it wet. You’ll get it up your ass, so you want to make sure my prick is as wet as possible.” Both men’s voices echoed those words.

Mary and Lady Browning had become quite experienced at pleasuring a man’s prick with their mouths so they took to it with ease. Father and son had given them lots of practice with them and others of the Hellfire Club. They wanted to do everything they could to make sure they were slick, but unfortunately, they also made the pricks harder and longer with their skills.

Mary looked at her mother as she felt Hubert’s hands on her buttocks. She cringed with the first touch of his large prick on her anus. It was sore from the whipping, but it would make no difference to Hubert. He’d take her no matter what. Her mother’s face strained, and a groan came from her lips just as Mary felt the same thing. The thick head of his slick prick forced its way through her tight ring with a start. She’d been touched and fingered back there, including the whip handle, but it was nothing like this. It felt like a log was shoved inside her as her anal ring stretched until it burned. She felt his prick dance in her rectum and push hard against her muscles to send them into revolt. The muscles clenched uncontrollably, but it only made it hurt worse when she tightened them. She tried to relax her muscles, but it was difficult to do when her anus felt like it would tear if he shoved any more of his prick inside.

Hubert felt such pleasure. He wanted to do this to Mary before, but he thought it appropriate that she have one virgin hole to take on her wedding night. And this hole was definitely virgin. It was so tight that it felt like it would skin his prick if he continued. But, he wouldn’t be deterred from making her take every inch of his prick. He pushed harder as he fought her muscles, gazing down to see his thick prick split the tiny hole. Her anal ring stretched so tight around the shaft of his prick, and he shoved more of his prick in her and forced her to rub his shaft with such pleasure. He pulled back out, but only an inch, until he could push back in with more power. He got a gasp from Mary’s lip, but her tight muscles stopped him after another inch of his prick was shoved inside. He took his time to savor the pleasure as her muscles rippled up and down his prick as he fed her inch after inch. Withdrawing was just as much pleasure as going in. It felt like her insides clung to his prick as though she didn’t want it to leave, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Mary thought his prick was never ending. Inch after inch of his prick bore into her, yet he still had more. She never realized it was so long, but she never felt his body or his testicles slap against her buttocks to signal that he was fully embedded inside her. Her stomach would cramp when his demanding prick would straighten out a bend in her guts but that didn’t slow him down. Her mother suffered the same excruciating slow ass fuck from the look on her face. It took a while before Mary felt his prick jerk in the darkest depths of her bowels. She felt his heavy balls rest on her buttocks. He was fully inside her, and she felt it. It was as if a log was shoved between her cheeks.

“Are you ready, Father?”

Edward grunted one last time from the final thrust and then was seated fully in her bowels. He flexed his prick to show his power over Lady Browning. “What do you say, Lady Browning? Are you ready to be sodomized?”

He did it to shame her, and it worked. Her face flushed as the words came out of her mouth. “Yes, take me,” she shamefully responded. Then, she felt his prick retreat, sucking out her insides as inch after inch was pulled from her guts, but it felt like he took her guts with it. Only when the head of his prick stretched her anal ring did he push back in. He took her with the full measure of his prick as het sent it back in with a powerful thrust. Her head reared up as he cried out.

Mother and daughter cried out in unison as if the father and son were one. Their pricks rocked the women’s bodies, going from empty to full in seconds. It didn’t take long for the men to get their pleasure, both women’s holes were virgin and so tight it felt as though their pricks were skinned by their tight holes.

Both women felt the hot crème jet into a hole that wasn’t destined to receive it. The men cried out their pleasure, and their crème made it easier for them to finish up inside them, sliding easily along with each jet of crème that spewed into them. It took a long time before they finished, but they happily sat inside the tight hole and let the women use their powerful muscles to push the invaders out. All saw their shame as the men’s white crème slowly dribbled out their breached holes.

Mary and her mother weren’t released, not yet. They were made available to any man or woman that wanted them. And many a man wanted to try out their asses, even though they’d have to swim in another man’s juices. Others took advantage of the women’s heads in the pillories; their mouth’s conveniently located to take a stout prick inside. Some men were very long and the pillories allowed them to breach the woman’s throat without regard.

Ella and Prince Michael left even as the long night of debauchery continued.





Epilogue

The king spared no expense on the wedding of his son, Prince Michael, to Ella. The heads of state from many countries came to witness the proud moment. Someday, Prince Michael would become king when his father passes away.

Ella was so proud to marry the prince and hoped her mother and father approved of her choice from heaven. She had made some hard choices in her life, but she had no regrets.

She lived through a rough period when her father died and she was left in the hands of the unscrupulous Lady Browning and her cruel daughters. Ella could have forgiven them and moved on, but instead, she sought out her revenge. She paid the price for that revenge, but she never regretted it for one moment.

It was two years later that Ella brought forth her first child for the prince, a baby boy. Another year later and she had a second boy. The third year she finally had a girl, naming her Cinderella.

It would be twenty years before the king succumbed to consumption. Prince Michael became King Michael II and proudly ruled the kingdom for twenty-five years of relative peace and prosperity. Ella had perished first and then he fell ill and died as if he could no longer live without her. His first born took over as king.

The Hellfire Club continued to flourish during these years. The aristocracy continued to plunder the weak and vulnerable for their pleasure.





Jane: Taken by the Ape-Man (sample)



Powerone





SIZZLER EDITIONS 2015



ISBN 9781615086375

All rights reserved

Copyright 2015 Powerone

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.

For information:

http://SizzlerEditions.com/n

A Renaissance E Books publication





Chapter 1

The Adventure

Rich watched as she got into the Falcon 7X. Her short dress left a lot of leg revealed, and she took advantage of it. He was sure that she teased him as she bent over to get in the plane in spite of the fact that it wasn’t needed. She loved to push that lovely ass out for him to see. He took the seat next to her, the other six seats empty.

“I’m glad you decided to let me go with you,” Jane purred as she pressed her breast into his arm.

“Did I have a choice?” Rich tried to convince her that where he was going wasn’t hospitable for a woman, but she’d have none of his excuses. She finally wore him down. With all her arguments, he couldn’t find fault with her reasoning. Jane was no longer the mousey, unconfident woman that he met two years ago. She’d changed into what she was now, but Rich had a lot to do with her transformation.

“You always had a choice. I do whatever you desire.” Jane meant it. Rich had found her, and as he said, she was a diamond in the rough. He took her and polished her into what she was today. She was grateful. Rich was handsome and wealthy, a billionaire in his own right. His parents had given him a small stake when he graduated from Harvard with an MBA, but it was less than a hundred thousand dollars. He had parlayed that into what it was today, a number in excess of five billion dollars or so they said. That wasn’t the reason she was with him, nor was it his looks, though she couldn’t deny that he was so handsome that women looked at her and were jealous that she was with him, not them. She was infatuated with him because of his firmness, afraid of using the word that truly described it. Domination scared her, but only the word, not the act. It sounded so much harsher than it actually was.

Rich put his hand on her naked leg, and she parted her legs willingly, but he didn’t move it. He enjoyed the touch of her soft, silky inner flesh. There would be time for more intimate exploration of her body after they arrived in Kisantu. They would rest up from this long trip before they set out by boat.

“How long is the trip?” They had all the creature comforts in the private jet, nothing like what the people that had to fly by commercial jet had to contend with, even in first class, it paled in comparison.

“About six hours to Lisbon where we’ll refuel. We can get a bite to eat and stretch our legs. Then, it’s onto Kisantu in the Democratic Republic of Congo. It’ll take us about nine hours.” Rich fastened his seatbelt as the plane began to taxi. It didn’t take long before they were in the air, the plane cruising at over five hundred miles an hour. They cabin attendant served them champagne as they settled in for the long flight.

* * * *

Jane had her arm linked with him as they walked through the private-jet terminal. They had a small snack at the terminals restaurant, more to try some authentic Portuguese food than to fill their stomachs. It was four hours before they could board the plane once again, and then, they took off for the last leg of the journey by plane. After that, it would be by boat and walking.

They arrived at Inkisi Airport. It was small but was capable of handling the Falcon jet. As they got off in the early hours of the morning, they could feel the humidity, even though the temperature was in the eighties. They checked into the Tanzanite Executive Suites. The rooms were adequate, but they’d soon welcome them compared to what the accommodations they’d have to survive on once they took to the river.

Jane lay naked next to Rich as the air conditioner buzzed away but did little to cool the room. They had taken a shower before bed, but that did nothing to alleviate the humidity and heat. They’d leave tomorrow morning, but they had a lot to accomplish before they left. The rest of the team would meet them tonight at sunset when it was cooler. She heard the soft murmur of Rich’s breathing as her hand curled around his cock. In spite of him being sound asleep, his cock grew in her hand. She did nothing but hold it, her fingers curled around the thick shaft. They were both tired and hot, but in spite of it, she joined Rich and fell asleep.

Kisantu was the capital of the Democratic Republic of Congo. It has about seventy thousand people, and they all looked like they were on bikes and motor scooters when Rich and Jane headed to the dock. The major roads were paved, if you could call it that, but everything else was dirt with large potholes. The docks weren’t much better, suited for cargo and fishing, not pleasure boats, but Rich’s boat was hardly a pleasure boat.

“What are you expecting?” Jane knew there was danger on this expedition, one reason she wanted to go. It excited her. But when she saw the boat, it took on a harsher reality. It was more like a gunboat than a boat to cruise the river. It was painted jet black with no other markings. The boat sat high in the water, in spite of the machine gun that was mounted on the forward deck, the belt of ammunition hung down until it disappeared into the box below it. The metal sides of the deck were more for cover than any other reason. The cabin above deck was covered in windows, but knowing Rich, Jane was sure that it was bulletproof glass. In the rear of the boat were two large exhausts that shot up, painted black. Jane guessed that it had twin engines that would make this boat fly across the water until it barely touched it. Rich loved speed.

“Everything and anything. You still have a chance to go home,” Rich warned her. “I never leave anything to chance.”

“Never; I’m here and ready to go.” She saw the three men standing next to it. They looked like military by their clothing, a combination of camouflage fatigues and black clothes. They were all big, over six feet four and muscular. She immediately saw the one in charge. He had that look about him. She couldn’t deny that he was handsome in a rough sort of way. He had a ten o’clock shadow on his face, a square jaw and he barely cracked a smile. He had dark-brown eyes, and they stared directly at her. She looked down to see his large hands. Hands like Rich had, demanding hands that took possession of whatever they touched. In spite of Rich’s billions, he looked like he worked with his hands, not his mind.

Derk couldn’t take his eyes off her. He expected Rich’s companion to be beautiful, but nothing like this. He expected a young trophy, pampered woman, but she was nothing like that. She was beautiful, but in a plain sort of way. She wore little makeup and had no jewelry except for a small diamond ring on her right hand. She wore tan khakis, but they were snug on her hips and ass. He couldn’t wait for her to turn around so he could admire her from behind. The button-down tan blouse was tight against her breasts, the top three buttons opened, with a tan pullover beneath it that hid her delicious flesh from his eyes. She certainly got a rise out of him.

Rich saw Derk immediately. “It’s good to see you, Derk.” They clasped hands, and Rich felt the pressure of Derk’s hand as he tried to crush his in jest. He responded until they both broke their grip and laughed.

Derk knew Rich from their younger days when they were both carefree and reckless. Derk stayed that way, but Rich took to earning money in large amounts. That made him less susceptible to take risks, at least regarding his life and that’s why Derk was surprised when Rich brought up this expedition. It was out of form for even Rich to go, never mind to bring his companion. The goal had to be very important for him to risk everything. “Glad you could make it, old friend.” They hugged.

“What do you mean, old,” Rich shot back when they broke the embrace. “This is my significant other, Jane. Jane this is Derk, the toughest, meanest man alive.” Rich and Derk were still close in spite of the way their lives parted. They were almost like brothers. There were no secrets between them, and they shared everything.

Derk turned his attention to Jane. He took her hand and kissed it softly as his eyes stared into her deep-blue eyes. “Such beauty,” he complimented her, but he refused to release her soft hand. His imagination ran rampant as to what her soft hands could do to inspire his lust.

“His hands might be calloused and rough, but his touch is soft and gentle. Like yours, Rich.” Jane loved a man that could be both and were. It excited her. She knew that Rich and Derk were close friends and wondered what that meant for her. Rich had talked about him a lot, though in the two years she was with Rich, she’d never met him. When she saw him, she knew why. They didn’t look like they were in the same social circles. Or was it that Rich didn’t really belong in the social circle his money allowed him to join?

“Meet Jessie and Brewster. They’re brothers and our guards. They’ll keep us out of trouble or get us out of trouble. I’ve known them since the service, and they are both capable of taking care of anything. You can’t find better men to watch your back than them.” They were with Derk in the Special Forces for too many years, and now, they were hired mercenaries, just as Derk was.

Jane shook their hands, but they were harsh and forceful in their grip, in spite of her being a woman. There was no gentleness at all in them. They didn’t even crack a smile or grin, though their eyes looked her over like a piece of meat. Jane felt a shiver in her body. She’d be on a small boat in the middle of the jungle with four men, all alpha males. She felt a shiver of pleasure between her legs and squeezed her pussy in response. “It’s good to meet you.”

“We have to check out the boat and the supplies. We won’t be leaving until the morning. We’ll spend another night in the hotel, the last night in a comfortable bed. Don’t go too far. They don’t see many blonde white women here, and it could be dangerous,” Rich warned her.

She walked on the dock, the wood rotted and decayed. There were other boats tied up, but most were handmade with small engines on the sterns, used mainly for fishing, though a few were pushed into duty to handle cargo up and down the river. The Congo River could take large boats, but the Inkisi River was shallower. Jane still didn’t know their ultimate destination or what Rich sought. He promised to tell her once they got under way. He was always secretive.

The men on the dock eyed her with suspicion, but she also saw lust in their eyes. They were a mix of tan-skinned men to jet-black men of all ages. When she walked near them, they all stopped and eyed her; she was a novelty in this part of the world. She could imagine what was in their heads. The nearby town had sprung up over the centuries in an urban sprawl that couldn’t be contained. Most of the buildings near the dock were old, tin roofs with block walls, built to withstand the elements, not built for aesthetic reasons. She’d expected the jungle to be fresh and sweet, but the town was none of that. It reeked of rotted garbage, stagnant water and the unbathed bodies of many of the inhabitants. Jane hoped once they got on the water the aroma would change.

Rich checked the boat to make sure that it had everything that was needed. Once they set out, there wouldn’t be many places they could get supplies, especially ammunition. The last chance for that would be when they’d transition from the Inkisi River to the Luili River. The Luili River would be low this time of year with no outlet on the Inkisi River for the boat. A sandbar would block it. They’d need help, but Rich had planned for that.

They went back to the hotel, and they both fell asleep. Rich woke her up early, before the sun rose. They grabbed coffee but that was all. They were too excited to get under way finally. They walked to the boat. She saw the other men on the boat, and Rich walked up the gangplank first. She waited. “Permission to come aboard, Captain,” she teased him.

“Permission granted.” Rich chuckled to himself. He enjoyed that she had to ask his permission, not only for this. He’d trained her well.

Jane sat on the forward deck to get a good view. The engines scared her for a second when they roared to life, the two exhausts spit out black smoke, and then, they bellowed deeply. Rich unsecured the forward and aft lines and hopped back aboard the boat just as Derk gunned it. Jane held on as the front of the boat raised up, and she felt the boat propel forward. She saw Rich hang on and a smirk on Derk’s face when he accelerated so quickly to catch Rich almost unprepared. Jane looked forward as Derk piloted the boat into the center of the river and the water leaped up from the bow and sent waves rippling to the two shores. Any unfortunate boat that got into their wake was pounded by the wake. There were many angry outbursts from the occupants, but they were long gone. Jane turned around to see Jessie get behind the machine gun, or at least she thought it was Jessie. He didn’t say a word as his eyes were already peeled onto the banks of the river for trouble as the boat made its way up the river.

The river was blackish, but the stench of the town was left behind. Jane could smell the rain from the morning. She heard a bird out in the distance, another answered from behind her. She began to see the wild animals. Monkeys danced from tree to tree playfully, propelled along as they swung from the thick liana branches that hung down from the trees like ropes. She looked in the water along the banks, teeming with snakes that slithered along close to the banks and the snout of a fish would pop above the water as if it checked out the inhabitants of the boat before it sank back into the black water. Jane had seen pictures of the Congo, but she never imagined it was this beautiful. She could see the thick carpet of the trees above the floor and the high mountains in the background, hundreds of miles away. It was as though they were the only people around, all the rest were the wild animals that called this their home. She only hoped that they weren’t intruding. Jane turned to hear Rich come up on the deck behind her.

“I’m going below to get some sleep. Brewster and I will take the night shift. We want to make good time, so we’ll keep going night and day. It’s four days out before we get to the Luili River.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“I need to get some sleep, though the offer is tempting,” Rich declined. It would be difficult enough to go to sleep; last night’s sleep was brief and fitful.

“When are you going to tell me where we’re going and what we’re after?” He had been so secretive ever since he said he was going on the expedition.

“We’ll talk in the morning when Derk takes over for me.” He bent down to kiss her, but it was just a peck on her lips. Then, he was gone.

* * * *

Jane spent a couple of hours on the deck, but then, she grew thirsty. The sun burned brightly, and in spite of the breeze from the boat’s speed, it was still hot and humid. She nodded to Jessie, but all he did was grunt back at her.

Derk saw her move toward him, her khakis plastered to her body with sweat, but that didn’t deter him. Hot, dirty sex was always enjoyable. “Want a beer. Not too many though. You have to stay hydrated, but alcohol isn’t the way.” He opened the cooler and handed her one. He had the urge to rub the cold bottle against one of her breasts and see if he could coax out a hard nipple, but he fought the urge, at least for now. He watched as her lips wrapped around the cold neck of the glass bottle and her hand held the thick bottle and tilted it up. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering erotically about her, in spite of her being with Rich.

Jane knew what he was thinking, the same thing all men did. “Has Rich told you what we’re after?”

So she didn’t know either. “No, just we’re going to take the Luili River, but he still hasn’t told me how he is going to get this boat over a five hundred-foot sandbar.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” They chatted for a while. Since Derk was one of Rich’s best friends, she wanted to know him also.

“You want to drive the boat?” The river was wide in this section so it wouldn’t be much problem.

“I’d love to.” Derk moved to the side but kept his hand on the wheel. She gripped the steering wheel tightly. She felt Derk’s hands cover hers.

“Not so tight, hold it gently. It won’t try to get away. Keep the boat on an even keel to the center of the river. There’s not much traffic now, but by afternoon, you’ll see more. Always stay to the right of any boat coming at us. Not too close though, you don’t want the wake to tip them over.” He moved closer behind her.

Derk’s large body began to envelope her from behind. He leaned over her as his large hands on her small ones guided her. She felt him press up against her back, but it was her ass that got all the attention. He pushed into her butt, and there was no doubt that his cock was erect. He didn’t pull away, frozen against her, but he couldn’t keep his cock still no matter how much he might will it. She didn’t push him away, though instinct told her that is what she should do.

She had a great ass, and he couldn’t stop his cock from moving. The slightest movement of the boat made her move, and her ass slid across his cock as though she tried to rub it with her buttocks. He could only wish for rough water. “Good job,” he complimented her as he removed his hands from hers.

She felt him release her hands, Jane disappointed, but they didn’t abandon her. She felt the gentle touch of his hands slide to her waist where they paused for the briefest of seconds. Then, they slid down her hips until she felt his fingers tighten on her flesh. She knew what was next. His fingers began to move slowly, almost undetectable at first. When she didn’t protest, they began to become more brazenly. He guided her hips, slowly and methodically from side to side. It made his cock come alive more than it was before, alive and much harder. She knew she’d have to stop him, but not yet. She couldn’t deny the wetness she felt as he masturbated his cock on her ass. She was still a virgin back there, not sure why, but she expected that someday Rich would take that from her.

“Yes, you’re doing a great job, keep it up,” Derk purred in pleasure into her ear. He couldn’t control his cock even if he wanted to. He began to move his hips as he pushed back and forth in contrast to her side to side motion. It sent his cock into delicious tremors. He didn’t have to move her hips anymore, as she did it by herself. She moved rhythmically with him.

“I don’t think there is a problem with keeping it up,” Jane teased him. It was so surreal what they were doing with Rich in the bunk below them, but she couldn’t stop, at least not yet.

Derk didn’t know why she let him continue, but he wasn’t about to protest. He didn’t know how he lasted for ten minutes, but the longer she moved against his cock, the harder it became to not cum in his pants.

“I think I’m okay now, Derk.” She stopped moving against him, pushing her lower body forward so his cock no longer touched her ass.

“You’re more than okay,” he said, dejected and unfulfilled. But he reluctantly moved away, though he stayed close just in case the river got more crowded or there was trouble. He was always on guard.

* * * *

Rich was glad to see that Derk and Jane got along so well. They were talking as if they were long-lost friends when he went on deck. He was surprised that Jane was steering the boat and Derk sat on one of the benches without a care in the world. “I’ m glad my two best friends get along so well.”

“Yes, it’s no wonder why you’re with Jane. She’s such an outstanding woman. Not only is she beautiful, but she’s intelligent.” Derk felt comfortable with Jane and she did with him, otherwise she would’ve never allowed him to rub his cock on her ass so boldly.

“Derk is more than muscles,” Jane added. “I can see why you’ve been friends for so long.” Brewster came on the deck and took Jessie’s place behind the machine gun. The sun was beginning to go down, and the sound of the animals changed as the nocturnal animals woke up to begin their night. “Let me make everyone something to eat.” She went down into the galley. She was surprised it was so well stocked, but most of it was canned items; the refrigerator was small and out here, it was unreliable.

No one seemed to mind that it was hash along with canned corn. They all ate ravenously. Derk, Jane and Jessie had a beer while Rich and Brewster took over. The spotlights on the boat lit up the water as the sun settled down behind the horizon. They stayed on deck for another hour or two, and then, one by one, they went below to get some sleep. Jane was the last to leave. She went behind Rich, just as Derk did to her. She rubbed her breasts against his firm back until her nipple sprang to such hardness. Her hands went to his hips, but she was too eager. It didn’t take long until one hand snaked around to grip his cock. There was no surprise that he was hard; he was a man just like Derk. Her fingers curled around the long, thick shaft, outlining it in his pants. Her fingers explored it. She squeezed the engorged head and was sure that she got drops to leak from it. Rich didn’t say a word or move away, but she heard his sighs of contentment. She surprised him with her other hand, moving it between his legs as she squeezed her fingers and captured his balls in the tight embrace. “Do you want me to go away?”

Rich answered quickly. “You better not.”

Brewster was too intent on watching what was in front and to the sides of the boat to look back and see what Jane and Rich were doing. She took advantage of it. Her fingers went to his zipper, and she slid it down slowly and silently. She unbuckled his belt and pants. She wanted easy access to his cock once she took it out. She teased his cock with her fingers as she opened his clothes, making his cock jump when her fingers lightly grazed across it. She used both hands to slide into the front of his pants and grip his cock and balls. She was rewarded when he shoved his ass back against her, but she didn’t move. She trapped him as she squeezed.

Her fingers were skillful as she went to work on his cock. She finally released it from the tight confines of his shorts, but her hands gripped it tight to control him. He moaned in pleasure as one hand stroked his cock while the other gently worked over his balls. It had been a couple of days without relief, so he struggled to contain his passion.

Jane felt him fight his arousal, and she used all her skills to do the opposite. Her fingernail sought out the head to rub it with the sharp tip just beneath the thick dome where it was tender and vulnerable. She was rewarded with drops of his juices. She tightened her fingers around the shaft and felt the muscles beneath her touch move violently as if he tried to escape. Her fingers slid up and down the shaft, making sure that her fingers tightened when it ran over the head. She would’ve finished him off with her mouth if Brewster weren’t so close. She wouldn’t be able to hide the obvious fact of what she did. She felt the wetness between her legs, the same thing she felt every time she did his sexual bidding. Her fingers curled into the thick hairs that covered his balls as she paid such attention to his cock, stroking him once, then again, using her hand to make long, tight strokes along the shaft as she felt his heated flesh. She could feel his cock surge in her hands as the veins filled with his pounding blood. Her hands found his twin balls to squeeze the vulnerable flesh and urge the cum from them. She released his balls so she could use two hands around his cock. She made him gasp with pleasure when she stroked his cock sharply, from his balls to over the head and back down with such precision. That was all that was needed.

His cock pulsated in her hand when she stroked him and he couldn’t hold back his lust any longer. He gripped the steering wheel tightly. It was too late as he cried out softly when his cock exploded. He spurted onto her hand as she slid it up and down to drain every drop from his balls. His body relaxed as the pleasure washed over him, his pulse beat fast as his chest heaved when he filled his lungs with air.

Jane didn’t release his cock immediately; she kept the warm, wet flesh in her grasp until she felt the last contraction. She gave it one last stroke to wipe as much of his dripping cum from it. Before she put it back in his pants, her hands drew up to her mouth. Rich turned to watch as she put her fingers in her mouth and washed them down as her tongue gathered up his cum. Only then did her hands go back down and put his cock back in his shorts and pull his pants closed. She tapped the front of his pants as if she tried to smooth it out. “Good night, Rich.” She kissed his cheek, and then, she was gone.

Before he could ask if he could reciprocate, Jane was gone. With his arousal gone, it was time to focus on the task at hand. There was danger lurking out there, more danger than anyone knew.

Jane went to the same room that Rich had slept in. She took off her clothes and folded them. She’d sleep nude tonight, the air still and damp in the room. She lay on the bed and smelled the familiar scent of Rich on the sheets. She turned off the light as the room turned dark except for what light came in the small porthole when the spotlights lit up the water around the boat. She turned away from the porthole, and then, she saw it. It was a small dot, but the light shined through it so brightly as if it were a spotlight that drew her attention. It had to be from the other room next door. It was the room that Derk slept in, yet the light was still on. She shouldn’t do it, but she couldn’t help herself. Does Derk have the same problem I have? She’d satisfied Rich, but when she did, it always made her extremely aroused. Submissive by nature, she’d read enough about it to know that was what drove her arousal, the need to serve the sexual desires of another. She silently moved closer to the wall and the hole. She pressed her head against the wall and looked through the tiny hole. It was surreal, but it was as if she was inside the room with Derk, yet he couldn’t see her. She was sure of that, for if he saw her, he surely would have stopped, at least temporarily. Her eyes were drawn to the naked body spread out on the bed in the bright lights.

Derk undressed, but he didn’t try to go to sleep yet. The hole between the two cabins had been there for a long time. He found it when he bought the boat as if he was destined to find it. He waited patiently, but Jane took a long time before she came to the adjoining room. He held his breath as if she could hear him breathing as he peered through the small hole. His hand went absently to his cock as soon as she began to undress. First, the blouse was opened and she pulled it off. He stroked his cock once as she neatly folded it and put it on the table. Then she began to pull the pullover off; this time his hand stroked his cock more urgently when he saw that she wore no bra, none was needed for her perky breasts. Two hard-tipped breasts appeared with brown areolas the size of a nickel, but the pink nipples were almost red with throbbing blood. Rich must have got some pleasure from her; that is why she took so long to come to the cabin. By the way her nipples were still hard, she was denied her pleasure. Or did she serve Rich his pleasure and not her own? His hand held his cock as she slowly pulled down her khakis. She wore simple white panties, nothing exotic, but what lay beneath them was more erotic than a thong could’ve revealed. She slid them slowly down her hips and off her legs. He loved the way her buttocks shook as she moved her hips from side to side to get them down. They moved the same way her hips had moved to slide her buttocks over his cock to excite him. She lay down on the bed, her legs parted slightly so that her full, pouty lips of her pussy were revealed. He saw the light glisten off the fine hairs between her legs. He couldn’t wait any longer as he deserted the hole in the wall to lie back on the bed just as she turned off her light. He closed his eyes as he spread his legs wide. His cock was stiff and sensitive, fearing that he’d cum too soon if he weren’t careful. The image of Jane’s naked body was etched in his head, but it was her buttocks that he also felt, reminded of the way they rubbed him so erotically. If only she’d turned her back to him so he could admire the twin peaks or let him have a glimpse of what lay beneath the sharp crack that divided them so vividly. He went to work on his cock to grip it softly but tightly, as she would do.

His cock was hard and pulsating with pleasure, just as Rich’s cock was beneath her fingertips. Her hand moved as she watched him begin to stroke his cock, and she felt her hand curl around the edge of the table as if it were Derk’s cock that she clutched so possessively. She watched him as his hand stroked his cock faster and faster. Jane felt so proud that she’d inspired such lust in him, but she wished it were her hand that stroked it. She could see his fingers grasp his shaft tighter as his movements became more urgent around his throbbing cock. She saw the drops of pleasure leak from the tip and remembered the feel of Rich’s hot crème on her hands and his taste in her mouth. Derk stroked the juices to allow his hand to slide along the slippery shaft faster. She knew he was ready and wished she could coax the cum from his balls. Her fingers went between her legs to find her swollen clit. She was soaked in pleasure in spite of not touching herself until now. She watched as Derk’s body went tight as his hand stroked his cock so rapidly. He held his cock straight up into the air as he pumped it. She came just as the cum shot up into the air, going up a foot before the thick, white crème sank back down onto his belly from the sheer weight. He continued to shoot, but he lost the height, but not the copious amount of cum that spilled from his cock. She put her fist into her mouth to stifle her cries of pleasure as she came with him. She finally pulled away from the hole in the wall and lay back down on the bed. She had cum so fast after being denied her pleasure by Derk and Rich.

Jane and Derk both fell asleep, content.



