Four writers for the price of one blog
A tale of Forbidden Erotica by Redbud
This story opens into a room a few words wide and a few paragraphs tall.
Imagine a man in his early thirties strapped to a wooden chair.
He struggles. The chair legs skitter on a gritty tile floor. He wears black slacks, a jacket, tie and a white button down shirt. His leather shoes shine and his dark socks are pulled tight. You can imagine him in whatever profession you choose. Make the room a little bigger if you like.
The writer only wants you to know that the young man doesn’t want to be there. His cock pokes flacidly through his open fly. He tugs against the ropes but doesn’t speak. He glares defiantly at the single door of the room – red, or blue, or gray – the quietly opens.
The promised young woman is guided into the room by two men at her elbows. Her wrists are crossed and bound behind her back. The men force her to stand in front of him. He refuses to look, but he can smell her. She twists and shudders, as though distracted.
The men spank her, sharply, once. She utters a quick cry, then quickly averts her eyes when the young man turns. She’s embarrassed. The men yank open the young women’s dress, revealing her breasts. They are large, and the nipples are swollen.
Isn’t she beautiful?
She’s young. She’s slender. She’s ambitious. She is magna cum laude. She’s never late to class and she keeps her dorm room neat as a pin. She’s never uttered a foul word. She’s a perfect young lady. Her hair feathers her shoulders. I leave it to you to imagine the rest.
But she’s flushed and bothered.
The men abruptly turn her sideways. They bend her over. Her breasts hang down. Her nipples are distended and thick.The young man sees the round protuberance that stretches the back of her black dress – the end of a dildo. The tightness of the dress, stetched over the curve of her ass, slowly forces the dildo more deeply into her belly. How long has she been like this? How long has the thing been vibrating inside her? They continue to hold her, bent over. She pants. She makes a sound – deep, guttural. The tip of the thing presses somewhere inside and in a way that only a woman is meant to understand. The men straighten her, force her to face the young man again. Her eyelids are heavy. She exhales as the thing slides back out, as far as her thin cotton underwear will let it.
The young man has turned away, but it’s too late. He has seen her. He can smell her. He can hear her breath, her struggle and what it tells him. His cock rises and soon stands thick.
The women sees what is happening but also quickly turns away. She’s disgusted. The men abruptly force her forward, then to her knees. She’s made to bend until her lips almost meet the man’s cock. She tries to look up, to look at the man, distracted as the dildo is once again driven into her by the skirt’s tightness. But he won’t meet her eyes. He looks to the side. One of them men lets go of the young woman. He takes a leash and collar out of his pocket. He fastens it round her slender neck, not tightly, but matter-of-factly.
The other man begins to spank the young woman with a tawse – or maybe a paddle or switch? You decide. She refuses to open her mouth, but the spanking grows louder and more insistent until she cries suddenly, as though she had been holding her breath, widens her knees and pants. What is she feeling? – a confused combination of pain and pleasure? She gazes at nothing, just above the man’s cock. The second man, holding her collar, guides her. She utters some garbled objections until her mouth is filled by the young man’s cock. She moans with it in her mouth, eyes turned upward — humiliated? submitting?
The leash is tightened. She can’t lift her mouth. There will only be one way for the cock to leave it.
The two mean leave them like that at first, so you can see and enjoy them.
They don’t move. His cock remains trapped in her mouth. She coughs once or twice. Drools. Her breasts are pressed against the young man’s knees. Then her lips finally close around his cock, her mouth exhausted from being held open. She still tries to meet the young man’s eyes. She’s helpless. She’s never been with a man. She’s never tasted a man before. Why is his cock in her mouth? She has only heard rumors.
One of the men goes to a small round table, like the kind in a coffee shop. A wooden chair is next to it. Did I mention the table and chair before? I didn’t. He sits down. There is a book of erotica on the table. He opens the book and begins to read. The other man remains by the young woman. He begins to spank her. She twists and her nostrils flare. Each time her ass is struck, her mouth moves on the young man’s cock. Her eyes are wide with surprise but what can she do? A rhythm develops. He doesn’t strike her hard, only enough to make her squirm and move.
The other man reads.
“The master is ready to breed his youngest slaves – slaves newly come of age. The slavemasters – burly men who are themselves slaves – bring in the slavegirls, nude and wrists bound at the flat of their bellies.
“The first one is brought to a stone platform.
“Another slave, a young man, is tied and stretched on a wooden platform, itself on the larger stone platform. His wrists are tied up and back, and his ankles are tied so that his legs are slightly parted. A copper ring is fastened round the base of his cock. He is stretched.
“The slavegirl is a raven-haired beauty with dark eyes. She is slender, lean and healthy. She struggles mightily as the other slaves lead her to the bound young man. She kicks. She bites. She would claw if she could. The burly men lift her over the young man. They lift her tied wrists over her head and secure them to a rope hung from the ceiling.
“She tries to keep her thighs together, but they force her knees apart. She twists and squirms. They secure her knees on either side of the young man’s hips. She is open and the gathered slave masters, who come with their wives and lovers to watch the ritual (and themselves have sex and orgy while the slaves are bred) can see that her pussy is parted. She has been shaved and so has the young man. Her clit has been pierced and a short silver chain hangs from the piercing. Her tight breasts heave and strain as she fights her bondage. Her nipples have hardened and are upright. They are also pierced and two pearls hang from them, like drops of milk. She is ready to be pierced and inseminated.
“As she struggles, the two burly slavemen begin to lash and whip her.
“They are careful not to draw blood. Oh no, they only sting. The men know that whatever harm they cause the slavegirl, they themselves will suffer.; and so they are very careful and very skilled. They have never failed in their task. Every slavegirl brought to them has been inseminated – their young wombs warm and rich with milk.
“The slave girl writhes as she she feels the sting of the lashes.
“Her movement – sinuous, wild and youthful – causes the cock of the slave beneath her, to rise and finally press, just the head, into the nook of her pussy. The slavegirl pants. She doesn’t dare move. She stares down at the slave boy in surprise. Even so, her own strange wetness glazes the head of his cock.
“She is distracted. She cries out when the tiny silver chain, attached to her pierced clit, is fastened to the bronze ring around the slave boy’s cock. The young man exhales at the feel of the slave girl’s belly-heat enclosing the head of his cock. She too cries out, her head falls back, and her brows furrow as a boy’s width, for the first time, enters and stretches her. She has never felt this before. She doesnt’ dare move. She is confused. She doesn’t feel pain. She feels something else. Her breasts rise and fall with her breath. She can hear the sound of cocks being stroked as she is watched. She hears the soft mewling of women who willingly take cock as a slavegirl is forced to submit for the first time. They all watch.
“She can’t lift herself off the boy. The chain that fastens her clit to the base of his cock isn’t long enough. She has been told only one thing: The stings of the lashes and the whips will only cease when she brings herself to orgasm.
“The lashing and the whipping start anew. She doesn’t want to move. She doesn’t dare. She can feel the broad knob of the young man’s cock just piercing her. She knows it’s meaning, but the stinging lashes are unbearable. She hears the moans of those watching. How often have they seen this played out? Do they delight when the slavegirls hesitate? Do they relish how she teeters with indecision? They watch, then collectively moan when the slavegirl chooses, when she descends, the first time, always the first time, taking the length of a cock fully upward, impaling herself, filled and panting. They celebrate as she cries out, as her finger open like butterflies above her.
“The lashes and the whipping continues. If she orgasms, she will be freed. She rises up and down. She descends and holds herself still. The slaveboy’s cock is fully inside her. She grinds her clit against the brass nubbin that chains it to the young man’s cock. Her mouth is open. The young man’s cock is like a spear impaling her womb.
“The young man is helpless. His cock is trapped inside the wild slavegirl, inside the pleasurable torment of her midriff as she twists and writhes above him. He begins to cry out. His back arches. His eyes widen as he stares at the ceiling. His mouth opens, now without a sound. The sound of orgasms fill the room as a dozen or more men and women wait for the slavegirl’s insemination.
“She is so close.
“Her own eyes widen as she lifts herself as far as she can go, as far as the short chain will let her. The short chain is taut but the broad flange of the slaveboy’s cock remains just inside her. The burly men continue to sting her ass and belly. Her head falls back as her body tenses and strains.
“The slaveboy’s stomach heaves and his buttocks clench and release.
“The slavegirl feels him, just the tip of him – the tip she is helpless to rise from – burst again and again. She can feel the strong jets, the pulses soak her womb. How many times has this happened? How many slavegirls have been bred just like this? The sting of the whip and the lash continue even as the slaveboy’s inseminate flows into her muscular abdomen. The slender silver chain tugs rhythmically at her clit with each of his spasms. Her eyes roll. Finally, her mouth opens soundlessly. She hangs from her wrists. Her slender waist snaps like a sheet as she orgasms, unable to rise from the pulses that splash within her.
“The stinging stops.
“She hangs from her wrists, head down and exhausted, her beautiful wild hair falls over her face, her narrow back arches as she sits on the slaveboy’s pelvis. His wet cock is still imbedded in her womb.
“She has been bred and the orgy continues. The slaves are left like that, as always, until the slavemaster and his guests are finally sated by the site of them.”
The reading man puts the erotic book back on the little round table.
The other man continues to spank the kneeling woman as she stiffens with the first spurt of semen in her mouth. Like the slavegirl in the story, she tries to lift her mouth from the bursting cock, but the leash won’t let her escape. He lifts his ass as far off the chair as the ropes will let him. The chair scrapes against the stone floor. His hands and fingers are red as orgasm takes him, forcing his fluids from his body.
The young woman gazes at him and moans in shock, lips tight, coughing before she turns her focus downward and begins to swallow. Then there is only the sound of her swallowing.
Just like the slavegirl, the man behind her continues to spank her, she too stiffens. Her eyes also turn upward as she swallows and orgasms.
The end of the dildo twitches beneath the taut fabric of her dress.
“A fine young lady,” says the reading man. “That’s it. Fill her mouth with cum. Make her swallow. Make her a good young woman.”
When she has swallowed the last of him, when her mouth and belly, for the first time, are warm with the taste of a man, she is released but doesn’t move. Her swollen nipples jut to either side. She remains on her knees. Her hands move listlessly at the base of the chair. She rests her head, askant, on the young man’s lap. Her lips are parted. Semen slips from her parted mouth. Semen falls from one of her nipples.
The young man’s hands are untied. He remains in his chair, head back, mouth parted and gazing at the ceiling as though shocked by his loss of control. She too, who has swallowed his cum, seems to gaze in disbelief.
The two men collect their belongings and walk out the door.
Was that so terrible?
Were you the young man? Were you the slavegirl? Were you one of the them?
Was it fun? I leave them all to your erotic imagination as the door to this little story closes with one, final sentence.