Lillian, the youngest daughter of the Duke has been captured by Sir Marcus, at the Duke’s order, for reasons not important here. She is unaware she has been taken from the castle for her safety. She’s had a crush on Marcus since she was a child, but because of the class division between them, she’s kept it a secret.
Below, is an extract I wrote for inclusion in a novel written by an ex.
They rode through the forest, both mounted on Marcus’s mighty war horse, Lillian in a silence of anger. Mile after mile, the horse plodded the trail, while more and more her thoughts strayed to the way Marcus bound her hands behind her. Once the rage subsided, it was replaced with the slightest of thrills, an unusual stirring which churned her insides. The more she realized what he could have done with her, the thrill became an electrifying passion. The most outrageous fantasy began to form. What if he’d taken advantage of my helplessness? What if he’d pushed me back onto the bed? What if he...
Lillian blushed. “Oh, goddess,” she whispered.
“Nothing,” she growled.
He was silent and her musing returned to the delicious scene created in her mind. She closed her eyes to deny the beauty of the forest.
I’m on the bed, bound and completely within his control. He’s pulling open my shirt and pawing my breasts. Now, he unlaces my corset and I can do nothing but watch. The restraint of my corset is gone and I’m exposed. He backs away from the bed and studies me and I flush red as his eyes wander and linger on my naked breasts. His gaze travels lower to my knickers.
After a while, Marcus kneels on the bed, straddling me and his hands take me, cupping my breasts. His callous thumbs begin to rub my nipples. His touch is rough, even so I can’t prevent him from making them swell. He won’t stop, just keeps stroking them. Perhaps, if I tell him to cease, he will ... however, I can’t take the risk, so I remain silent, apart from my breathing which is heavy with the thrills that he fires in me.
Lillian squirmed and pressed against the destrier’s mane, her clit throbbing with the gentle motion of his steady pace.
What if he should want more? Oh, he does. Now, he’s pinching, twisting them hard. He’s pulling on them, pulling with such brutality. Please, Sir Marcus, please ... don’t stop.
Her head was spinning. She pushed back against his body, in part to steady herself, but most of all to enjoy his strength, his awesome power.
No-one would blame me for what he’s doing. Not even the daughter of a duke is able to stop herself from being ravaged. ‘Ravaged.’ ‘Violated.’ ‘Spoiled.’ I never realized the words had such excitement. No, I can’t be faulted if that’s what he will do to me.
He’s tugging on my knickers, pulling with such a ferocity, it’s most likely he’ll rip them from me. They’re down around my ankles and he’s on his knees before me, in his eyes a reverence I’ve not seen before. There’s a broad smile as he gazes at my nakedness. Sir Marcus! My thighs are parted so he can feast on my most private parts and I ought to close them, but I know this is what I want.
He strokes up and down my sex, his soft touch giving me such intense pleasure. He’s stopped and now his fingers are opening me, exposing me. He’ll see how wet he’s made me. Will he take that as compliance? Will he think this is what I want? Surely not. He’s my servant. He’s a knight. He must know this is wrong.
He’s opened me, but he wants more. The tips of his fingers are moving inside my entrance, spreading me wide so he can see deep inside. I feel his warm breath on me, the heat pulsing on my lips. Ohhh! His tongue. It’s so long, so moist and it’s moving nearer. My, but the sweetness as it enters, pushes inside me. Oh, Marcus. He’s licking my walls, lapping up my juice with every powerful thrust, with each plunge into my helpless pussy. No matter how I cry out, I can’t make him stop. I don’t believe how deep he penetrates. It licks every nerve, every part of me.
For long moments, I’m unable to answer, conscious only of how wonderful had been the joy that had taken over my body.
Sir Marcus stops the horse. “Are you ailing?”
“No,” I manage to gasp, “I’m fine.”
“We could stop now. It’s almost dark.”
I open my eyes and see the forest trail. Dark so soon? “No, let’s continue a little longer.”
“Only if you’re certain, my lady.”
He’s standing. Has he finished with me? No, I think not. Already he’s removed his shirt and is sliding his undergarment down over his powerful thighs. Oh, goddess. Look at him. Must I really take that colossus inside me? I can’t stop trembling.
He spreads my thighs wide open and forces his purple head against my virginity. His fingers insist on their caress over my clitoris and excite me in such a way as I’ve never succeeded in doing to myself.
No, Sir Marcus. Stop.
It’s no use. He sinks into me. I gasp at the thickness of it pushing inside. I’m unable to take more. His cock fills me, invades me. He lowers until I feel his chest hairs against my nipples. My knight supports his weight on his elbows and begins his assault. He’s thrusting in and out, ignoring my pleas. An abstract thought crosses my mind, how close pleas is to ‘please.’ Please, Sir Marcus. I know how this excites me even though I beg him to stop. He’s like an animal, growling with every thrust. He’s pushing so hard, so deep I can hardly breathe. It just won’t stop. He sucks on my nipple, griping it between his teeth. Push, push, push. In and out he forces himself inside my helpless body. His balls slap against my backside, beating out a steady rhythm of lust.
Suddenly, I feel his body tense, followed by a powerful release. His seed spurts into me, a force so great, so irresistible. His shaft comes to rest, and my own torrent of rapture showers over his lance. Oh, my darling knight. I’m yours, yours. I will forever be your mistress.
“It’s dark, my lady. We must stop for the night.”
He helps me down and, for a moment, holds me at arm’s length. His stare is quizzical, and I’m certain he knows. This last time, he ignored the heaviness of my breathing and I know I groaned at least once. Still, he will not ask. My dear knight is a gentleman and would never discomfit me. Despite that, I feel the heat in my face. I’m sure he notices, because he turns away, leads me towards an oak and seats me on the ground.
I’m still trembling and gasping at what he’s done to me.
“Was it essential you bind me?”
“I’m sorry, but it was. You must realize it’s to stop you from attempting to escape.”
“Was that the only reason?”
For a few seconds, he stared in silence. “Of course.” There was the faintest smile on his face, as though a thought had crossed his mind.
Only two days ago, Lillian would have been angered at her servant’s insolence, but so much had changed. Instead, she tried to hide her disappointment.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Inspired by the Janet and John series on Wogan’s BBC Breakfast Show. The names have been changed to protect the guilty.
Janice and Jon, an adult Primer
Look everyone, Janice and Jon are on the couch watching television. Janice loves to relax and watch TV after a hard day’s work. She tells Jon she’s been doing housework, but we know that’s a big fib, don’t we? She’s been reading dirty stories on Storiesonline. Bad girl!
‘Hi darling,’ Jon calls from the hall when he arrives home.
Janice rushes into his arms and hugs him.
‘What you do today, hon?’
‘Spent most of the day stripping a tallboy,’ she replies.
‘Why so long? Did he fight?’
Janice giggles. ‘No silly, I removed all the old wax so it’s ready to paint.’
Jon had a hard day as well. Can you guess what he does for a living? Let me give you a clue. He has an organ. Janice adores Jon’s ten inches. You should see her run her tongue up and down it; she loves to play with it. What a noise she makes as she slurps and sucks on his organ. Have you guessed what he does yet? That’s right, he’s a musician. He had an exhausting session with Shania today, but hasn’t told Janice yet.
Do you have a mouth organ? I bet yours isn’t as big as Jon’s.
Janice cuddles up as his finger slides into her black forest.
“Oh,” she gasps. “Don’t be naughty. How many times have I asked you not to do that?”
“Uh? But you know why. Your cream tastes so much nicer when I lick it off my fingers.”
“Honey, I prefer you didn’t. Do you wanna fork?”