Chapter 7: Persuasions

... light and cool air. He attempted to sit up and found that he was bound to the bed in which he lay. He craned his neck. Maggie Dalrymple straddled his legs in an unladylike fashion, though this lapse of decorum was dwarfed by the one represented by her firm one-handed grip on his penis and testes. He was naked; she appeared to the eye to be fully clothed, though the feeling of warmth against his legs suggested a dearth of undergarments.

"Good morning, Mr. Brandywine," she said. "I thought it would be nice if you and I had a chat."

"You have me at rather a disadvantage, Corky confessed.

"Mother says power is neither so complex nor so simple as it seems," the girl mused, tuliping the fingers of her free hand around the rubicund tip of Corky's yard. "I wonder what she meant by that... ?"

"Well I suppose she—" Corky began, but the girl gave his tender privates another distressing tug.

"But enough airy persiflage! To the matter at hand."

Corky's eyes moved involuntarily downward to where her two hands were at work, one threatening pain, the other dealing out pleasure, like the proverbial carrot and stick.

Maggie giggled. "You take me too literally, Mr. Brandywine. I mean the matter of your feelings for my sister, Beatrice."

At the sound of that name, Corky twitched involuntarily. "What concern is it of yours?" he demanded.

Maggie cocked her head prettily. "A very sensible question," she said. "After all, she's terribly unkind to me, as well as being a dreadful old stick-in-the-mud. But I got to thinking: with only Mother and myself working on you, you'll probably get up your nerve to flee in no more than a few weeks. With Beatrice's hold on you, though, I can have you around to play with indefinitely!"

"Hold? Whatever do you mean?" Corky asked.

"You love her," Maggie said.

"I... I thought I did." Corky said after a long pause.

Maggie frowned slightly. Her gentle stroking of his penis stopped abruptly, just as her other hand tightened a hairsbreadth. "Now, you see, Mr. Brandywine, that is just the sort of ill-thought-out assertion that I am here to forestall. Such words might be very hurtful to a young lady with tender feelings for you."

"Lady!" Corky scoffed. "Your so-called 'sister' is no--arr!"

For the first time, Maggie had tightened her grip sufficiently to cause actual pain. Her expression turned stormy, but her voice was cooler than ever.

"I believe that a Socratic dialogue is in order here. Do you find me to be someone who values tact more highly, or truthfulness?"

Corky drew a deep breath. "Miss Dalrymple, I have seen nothing to suggest that you have any particular fondness for either." He braced himself for some violent and humiliating retribution for his harsh words.

Maggie, however, grinned. "Excellent! Full marks. It would be to your advantage to remain similarly forthright through the remainder of our interview. Mr. Brandywine, do you consider me to be of particularly or even ordinarily ladylike character?"

Corky glared at his tormentor. "No, I do not."

Maggie affected surprise. "I think you are ill-serving a sweet lass who has given you a great deal of pleasure and valuable instruction. But our concern here is not my views, but your own. So, in your hard and uncharitable view, what ladylike qualities could I possibly lack?"

Corky was not enjoying this game, but her continued grip on his gonads was powerful incentive to play along. "Modesty, humility, comportment, civilized table-manners. Ability with some sort of musical instrument is desirable, though not strictly necessary; and most authorities agree that undergarments are a near-universal attribute of every true lady. Need I go on?

Far from the chastened look Corky was hoping for or the towering rage he feared, Maggie appeared to be trying to suppress a giggle. "And yet my genitals are quite unambiguously female, would not you say?"

Recognizing now the trap that she had laid for him, Corky only glared at her in silence.

Maggie batted her eyelashes. "Is your memory flagging, Mr, Brandywine? I should be happy to reacquaint you with them..." she threatened, releasing his stones and beginning to make herself busy with her skirts.

"There is nothing wrong with your female parts," Corky conceded before his rebellious pego could stir to life at the prospect of some more face-sitting and humiliate him further.

"And yet you esteem me no lady," the girl astride him said, her hands returning to his genitals, this time with a gentler touch. "Quick, now, what name springs to mind when you consider who possesses the qualities you set forth?" Corky pursed his lips e'en tighter.

"I believe you may have a person in mind," Maggie said after a moment, "tho' you may be questioning your own judgment in that regard now. You saw her in a distinctly unladylike attitude recently, doing some beastly things to a sweet and innocent girl who deserves far better treatment."

Corky snorted.

Maggie leaned forward, her hand still busy on Corky's thickening cock. He could feel her hot breath on his cheek as she spoke: "But you must realize that, between sisters who believe themselves to be in private, standards of decorum are oftentimes relaxed. And though she was awfully unfair to me, I have found it in my heart to forgive her."

Corky was once again silent.

"Or perhaps it wasn't her conduct that offended you so, but that that pretty prick she has between her legs. Awfully rude, was'n't it, arcing up like that to violate my poor mouth? Oh! you're terribly hard of a sudden, Mr. Brandywine. What were you imagining when mother brought you off in the closet, you naughty man? Fucking my mouth or taking Beatrice's prick in your own?"

Corky's hips were moving in little involuntary jerks by now, while the head of his cock gleamed with a fat drop of lubrication. Noting the fact, Maggie scooted down until her lips pouted a scant inch from his bobbing rubicund tool. "Ooh! Mustn't waste any of that lovely fluid," she said, and his cockhead was engulfed in delicious warm wetness.

A moment later, her face was inches from his while her hand beat a steady rhythm along his straining shaft."Oh, Mr. Brandywine," breathed Maggie, "it is quite delicious to have you at my mercy like this. Here." She slipped a hand beneath her skirts, and did something that resulted in a deep exhalation and an intensification of the already-noticible flush about her face and neck. The hand emerged gleaming with fluid and she passed it beneath his nose, filling his head with a sharp and heady scent. "See how ready you've made me? Shall I fuck you now? I want to very much, you know."

"No!" Corky gasped, "Don't!"

She cocked her head inquisitively. "Whyever not? Don't try to tell me I don't make you randy, 'cos I know for a fact that I do," and she squeezed his prick so that he groaned aloud.

"It's not right!" he insisted.

"What's wrong with it?" she prodded patiently, like a school mistress guiding her student through his sums.

"Your virtue," Corky said. "I wo'n't take advantage..." His voice trailed off in the face of Maggie's giggling fit.

With effort, she suppressed her mirth enough to speak. "Think harder, Mr. Brandywine," she insisted. "Why shouldn't I put this lovely cock to use satisfying my poor swollen cunny?"

Corky desperately shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to figure out what to say, His body arched upward against his bonds as he strove to master the forces contending within him. "It would--"