The Pub Landlady
Copyright© 2026 by Publandlady
Chapter 12
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 12 - In a quiet English village lies a pub that time forgot, presided over by a mischievous and unconventional landlady. When she discovers an ancient book recording the customs, secrets, and curious sexual traditions of generations past, she finds herself drawn into a world where old rules still cast long shadows. Part orgy organiser, part agony aunt, and part keeper of village secrets, she is happy to share her stories with you—if you dare. It's going to be a bizarre and bumpy ride.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Farming High Fantasy Historical Humor Mystery Workplace Cheating Cuckold Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Wimp Husband Mother Son Humiliation Light Bond Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Interracial Black Male White Male White Female White Couple Anal Sex Exhibitionism Oral Sex Voyeurism Clergy Public Sex
At last I had a plan for Imogen’s party that I was reasonably confident would fit all of her criteria. I felt worn out. If Glenda asks me to plan her wedding, I’m going to refuse.
The barn was adorned with red and white striped sailcloth to make it look like the inside of a huge marquee. The Hoss was covered in a bright blue satin cover.
Mucky Malcolm had fixed up two massive TV screens on either side of the barn. Beneath each of them was a screened-off area. Malcolm was just doing a final check on the sound levels.
The caterers were laying out food on a long table. Another table was straining under the weight of the drink selection.
As the guests arrived, two young ladies handed them champagne or orange juice.
Actually, only Jem had the orange juice. He arrived with Glenda and Craig.
Shortly afterwards the Vicar turned up. He was soon followed by Helen and Gerald.
I was pleased to see Claud and Jane. Jane was wearing a very pretty party dress and Claud sported a rather snazzy tuxedo.
Everyone had dressed up for the occasion. I was a bit sorry that I would be asking them to undress soon.
Harry and Ted had been there for some time and kept getting into mischief by stealing food as they helped carry the trays from the caterer’s van. I had to have a word.
Rita and Brian arrived. She was on top form. Great dress, great make-up. She had really blossomed since she became the village bike (anybody can ride it). Her confidence had rocketed. She scanned the room to see if there were any men who hadn’t fucked her yet. She was like a stamp collector. I could see her face light up when she spotted Malcolm but it was obvious when she suddenly remembered last summer’s Church Picnic. I thought, “I’m glad that all the caterers are women.”
Brian nodded to all the men and tried to guess what they were thinking. He looked pleased.
Imogen was escorted into the barn by Geoffrey. She looked radiant and grinned broadly when she saw the adornments to the barn. They were accompanied by Clive and Russell, who had both been boyfriends of Imogen’s when she was at Oxford University. Geoffrey had managed to contact them and thought that it would be fun for them all to reminisce. Clive worked in a museum in London, Russell was curator of one in Philadelphia. I could see Rita’s eyes light up.
When Geoffrey first suggested that they should be invited, I had strong reservations given the things I had planned. He just laughed and said it wasn’t a problem. Imogen had always been very straight-laced before she shared a house with them. They soon started sharing her. All three of them were studying 17th-century morality. Their big thing was historical re-enactment. Once, the boys acted as whorehouse proprietors. Imogen had to not wash for two weeks beforehand and then take on all comers at a penny a go. It was all very authentic. Geoffrey was on the same course.
He said it was only after she got the job at the museum that she reverted to being all starchy.
I thought, “Good, my little production will be just like old times for them.”
The party was going really well. Malcolm had a playlist of pop videos playing on the big screens. It was mostly modern stuff from the 1980s which everyone appeared to like. The girls were dancing together but they kept trying to get the men on the dance floor but they would have none of it. That was until that song about Mandy came on. I had asked Malcolm to include it. Then the boys overcame their shyness. Slow dancing was more their thing. There was a fair bit of bum groping and partner swapping. Jem even danced with his mother but he behaved himself, mostly.
Everybody was drinking freely. And then the caterers announced that the buffet was ready. There was general agreement that the food was excellent. I playfully punched anyone who suggested that it was because I hadn’t cooked it. I had politely requested that the caterers leave as soon as the people started eating.
Then there was more dancing. Some of the men joined in now. It was just like a normal birthday party.
Eventually, I stood in front of the Hoss as the music faded.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” I announced, “you all look excellent in your finery but I would now ask you to don your costumes for tonight’s entertainment.
“Gentlemen to my left and Ladies to my right.”
They didn’t need asking twice.
Behind the Ladies’ screen there were five dressing tables. Each had a mirror surrounded by light bulbs in true theatrical style. There was also a long rail filled with female circus clothing. Dancing girls, trapeze artists, tightrope walkers, and the like. Each one was lavishly adorned with sequins and feathers. They all had matching headdresses.
“Please select the costume of your choice. And ladies, kindly help each other to dress,” I said.
“Not you, Imogen, I have a special ensemble for you over here,” I said, pointing to a further screened area.
In it were two more dressing tables, although at that point I didn’t know why. I had most of my costume on under my dress and Imogen would hardly be wearing anything at all.
“Close your eyes,” I said as I slipped off the dress.
“Why, you getting shy in your old age?” she answered.
“Just do it, you saucy mare.”
I had on a black silk corset and black stockings. I slipped on a bright red tailcoat.
“Now you can help me with my boots.”
“Wow,” Imogen said as she opened her eyes, “where’s my costume?”
“Just wait, there’s not much of it.”
I stood up and got my balance. Thigh boots and stilettos take a little getting used to.
“Right you, naked!” I commanded.
She was halfway there already.
“Turn around.”
When she had her back to me, I slipped the bridle over her head. It was like a horse’s but had been adapted for a woman. Some of the ones you could get online were really extreme but this one didn’t have a mouth bit. It was simply held on the head with a chin strap. It did have ears and it had a mane of hair hanging down the neck.
There were a lot of feathers on the top, with reins connected to each side.
I went round to the front and fastened the chin strap. It rather suited her.
“How did you know that I had a fantasy of being a pony when I was little?” she giggled.
“Just a guess,” I replied.
I placed a leather corset around her waist and tightened it. The back looked a little like a saddle and had more feathers sticking out of it. The harness effect was only added to by the very strappy, stiletto-heeled saddles that I slipped on her feet.
“Now bend over,” I ordered.
She flopped straight down. I don’t know if she knew what was coming but she just breathed in gently as I pushed a butt plug into her bumhole. This had a long tail of horse’s hair attached to it.
“That’s nice,” she sighed.
“Now stay in here until I call you,” I said softly.
She was already practising her prancing up and down and swishing her tail from side to side.
I had heard a lot of laughing and giggling from the main dressing area. When I went in I could see they had all gone for the more risqué costumes. Not one of them had their nipples fully covered. Glenda’s outfit consisted of a scarlet corset that only ended under her boobs. She had bright blue stockings and shoes as well as a scarlet tutu. It was topped off by a large blue feathered headdress. The whole thing showed her more than ample tits to their full advantage. Somehow, since I last saw them, both the nipples and areolas had grown in size.
“What happened there?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you in a bit,” she whispered.
Rita had gone for a similar thing, completely in a tasteful pink. Her nipples were just covered with her dark brown areolas peeking out. A bit precarious but I guessed it was how she planned it.
Helen’s costume was a black and white affair. No attempt was made to cover the nipples which rested gently on the corset.
Jane was stunning in all white. The addition of fairy wings was made clear when she said that was a trapeze artist.
Claud didn’t feel entirely comfortable in her gold corset but there was no denying that she was a woman.
Rita observed, “I’m not complaining but we couldn’t find any options in the knicker department.”
I said, “There is a very good reason for that.”
Stepping into the middle, I lifted my arms out sideways.
“Claud and Jane, if you wouldn’t mind?”
Claud pulled the cloth from a table to reveal a selection of strap-on dildoes of various shapes and sizes. There were gasps and then laughter from Rita, Glenda and Helen.
Claud selected quite a large black one. I spread my legs slightly and stepped into the harness as she slipped the smaller of the double penises into my snatch.
Claud and Jane had suggested that this was the absolute best type as it made the pleasure two-sided. Claud tightened the harness. I swung my new penis from side to side. Instantly, I understood where they were coming from. Even that small amount of movement was juicing up my fanny.
The girls were in stitches. Helen said, “I’ve always wanted one of those.”
I wasn’t sure if she meant a strap-on or a penis.
Glenda had hers fitted next. Bright red to go with her costume. Once she had tried it out by swinging and thrusting it, I pulled her to one side.
“Spill the beans,” I whispered.
“Well you know Craig took me to Weymouth on my birthday. Afterwards, we went to see a college friend of his, Archie, who has a fully automated dairy farm. The cows just walk in and the machinery does everything.
“While we were watching it I told them that I’d love to have a go in the machine. Archie told me that it just wouldn’t work, my udders were in the wrong place. Craig said that Archie had better fuck me as his equipment had got me all excited.
“Afterwards, Archie declared that I was so good that he fetched his dairyman and his farm manager to shag me too,” she said quietly.
I found it a bit difficult to concentrate on what Glenda was telling because she kept tapping the top of my penis. Every time it bobbed up and down so the inside one did the same.
“Sounds like you had a good time,” I said.
“After that, Craig said we should visit a husband and wife who have a sheep farm.
He’d known the guy for ages. Evidently, the wife was really into sheepdog trialling and he wanted us to see her perform. It was quite exciting to watch.
“Then the shepherd fucked me and Craig shagged the shepherdess.
“When we got home Craig remembered that he had a really old cow milker in our barn. He’d managed to get it working again. The old machine has big cups that suck in your areolas as well as your nipples. I’ve been on it for half an hour every day this week. Do you like them?”
Before I could answer, Jane said, “All ready.”
I turned around to the sight of the five of them swinging their new dicks around. Each of them had one to match their costumes. The girls were all laughing hysterically.
I went partially behind the other screen and got hold of Imogen’s reins. As I led her out, I said, “Ladies, I present Imogen the Circus Pony.”
They all squealed with delight. I think that they all must have had a pony fantasy when they were young. Well, maybe not Claud.
Imogen pranced about and the girls all tried to pat her.
I went into the barn where most of the clowns were now sitting around at the tables and chairs. The few stragglers walked clumsily from their dressing area. The oversized shoes didn’t help. When they saw me they all cheered. As I walked to the front of the Hoss, the sight of my swinging dick made them cheer more.
I picked up my top hat and whip from under the Hoss’ cover. As I pointed the whip at them I said, “Best behaviour now boys.”
This got another cheer.
I announced, “Gentlemen, I give you the Circus Girls.”
The big TV screen lit up with a succession of flashing images of circus performances.
Traditional circus music pumped out of the speakers. Coloured spotlights lit up the barn.
The girls filed into view one at a time and proceeded to march around in a big circle, their penises swinging back and forth as they walked. The cheering went wild.
They formed a line in front of the Hoss.
I announced with a flourish, “And now for everyone’s pleasure and entertainment, I present Imogen the Circus Pony.”
Imogen cantered around the barn flicking her mane and tail. She was making some rather silly whinnying noises but she was excited so it could be forgiven.
It was quite a surreal sight. A whole bunch of circus clowns baying and cheering as a forty-year-old woman pretended to be a horse. The only thing that made it appear sane was the variously dressed circus girls and a very attractive female ringmaster with artificial penises who were encouraging them.
The images of brief flashes of circus acts – lion tamers, jugglers, performing elephants, high-wire walkers, clapping seals, clowns, dancing horses, trapeze flyers – were now interspersed with almost subliminal sections of circus-based pornography.
Malcolm had produced a semi-automated masterpiece which I think he was controlling from a remote in his left hand. If indeed the clown that I thought was Malcolm was Malcolm. I hate to appear clownist but all clowns look the same to me, especially with those red noses.
Someone once told me that clowns are considered scary by some people but I just find them slightly ridiculous. The costumes really suited the boys.