tagNonConsent/ReluctanceBreaking In My Friend's Girl Ch. 01

Breaking In My Friend's Girl Ch. 01

byMichael Herrick©

Bill and I have been friends for several years, having met at the local beach. We share an interest in handball, sailing, and beautiful women. When we have girlfriends, we often socialize as a group. When without regular companionship, we hunt for women together at the local hot spots. We have an easy friendship and shared sense of humor that appeals to many women, more than one of whom has asked us to fulfill their fantasy for a threesome.

Although similar in many ways, Bill and I have our differences. For example, our sexual proclivities are varied. We are each open minded and experimental, but differ in our particular kinks. I enjoy dominating women and bringing out their submissive side, while Bill is more of a traditional lover. But this has never gotten in the way of our friendship, or in our partaking of the same woman together.

Bill's latest girlfriend, Gretchen, seemed to bring out his romantic side even more. She was a young looking 23, small, slim, and blonde. They often jogged together at sunset, waving as they passed my beach house. They would visit to watch the sunset from my balcony and have a glass of wine. Bill seemed quite taken with Gretchen, and I wondered if she would turn out to be "the one" for him.

Although I liked Gretchen, I felt that she was just a bit self-important at times. She was quite beautiful, and knew it. Blessed with a sleek, firm body, she chose to show it off with carefully picked clothes. However, she had a habit of covering up if she felt a man's eyes wandering too much. And at times, she clearly showed an expectation of doting treatment from Bill. All in all, nothing unusual from a bright and pretty young woman - but not something I would have put up with for long. In a way, I was slightly embarrassed for Bill that he catered to her whims more often than not.

One evening after their jog Bill and Gretchen came to my house with a rented movie. I remember thinking to myself, "Gretchen sure looks fetchin' in that outfit." She wore a thin half-top with spaghetti straps, a pair of cutoff shorts, and sneakers with no socks. Freshly showered, she looked good and smelled better. She reclined against Bill on the couch while I popped "Eyes Wide Shut" into the DVD player.

Throughout the film Bill and Gretchen exchanged a few smiles, and remained snuggled up together. But her expression turned cloudy at the orgy scene. We discussed the film after it ended.

"I can't believe those women would allow themselves to be... USED like that. They were just the pawns, playthings for those men. And I don't care if they WERE paying them - that was sexual slavery."

"You don't seem to mind when I boss you around a bit," replied Bill with a grin.

"Oh, like when you ask for ranch dressing instead of blue cheese? You're soooo mean to me," Gretchen said sarcastically. "But seriously, it's different. I could say no to you if I wanted to, even about small things like that. And there would be NOTHING you could do about it."

I remained impassive as I listened to the exchange, but Bill's expression had changed. "Oh? You think you could say 'no' to me without any consequences if I were serious?" he asked.

She sniffed at him and smirked. It was an expression I'd often seen from women who were used to having men at their beck and call. Bill regarded her with interest but no sign of anger, and then turned to me.

"You know," he said conversationally, "for all of Gretchen's bravado, she's really quite obedient with me. I think it's because she loves me more than she realizes."

I raised an eyebrow. This was out of character for Bill. I'd never heard him speak of a girlfriend in the third person while she was still in the room. He laced his fingers around his knee, and continued speaking as if he were telling an amusing story.

"You should see her when we're alone. She's actually meek as a mouse. But when we're out, she feels she has to show the world that she's in charge or something."

Gretchen began to contradict him, and I was shocked as Bill snapped his head around and sharply rapped out, "QUIET! I'm talking to Michael." His stare was icy, and Gretchen froze with her mouth hanging open, her protest quickly forgotten. Bill turned back to me and continued pleasantly.

"The other day we were in bed, and after we finished doing it she was saying how much she loves me and how she would do anything to keep me." Gretchen's eyes got wide, but she said nothing. Bill faced her again and said to me, "I think it's time we find out if she was telling the truth."

"Gretchen dear, there's something you don't know about Michael here. He treats his women a bit differently than I do. He doesn't put up with a lot of nonsense, right, Mike?"

Now on familiar ground, I smiled slightly and nodded to Gretchen. Bill was trying to intimidate her, and I saw no reason not to help. I find uppity women distasteful, no matter how ornamental they are.

"And I'm wondering if he can't help me find out just how much you really do want to hold on to me. What do you say, Mike?"

"Be glad to Bill," I said, looking Gretchen in the eye. "Whatever you need."

Bill stood up and looked down at his disbelieving girlfriend. She tried another approach. "Look honey, I didn't mean to upset you. If you want me to tone down..."

Bill cut her off. "Listen, HONEY," he said with a slight sneer. "If I were you I would just keep quiet. Bill, I'm going to head home and get to bed early. I'd consider it a big favor to me if you would find out just how much she wants to stay with me. Feel free to use whatever... methods... you usually use with your women. No holds barred, and feel free to enjoy yourself too. Call me tomorrow with the verdict, OK?"

I smiled inwardly as if I had just won the lottery. "Will do." I cast a glance at Gretchen. She looked about to cry. "My pleasure, in fact."

Gretchen's shoulders heaved slightly as Bill walked over and took her chin in his hand. He said, "Make me proud," turned away and strode forcefully to the door. Gretchen's eyes followed; he did not look back.

I remained seated, legs crossed, as she watched her fiancé leave. She flinched visibly when the door shut. Gretchen turned toward me and smiled weakly. "He's just mad. I shouldn't have teased him..."

"No, you shouldn't have. But don't worry, I'm not angry with you." She let out a breath. "Because I know you won't disappoint him further by being difficult. You're going to be a good girl for me. Stand up."

Her eyes shot up. "Wha-"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, but..."

"But nothing. Do you want him to stay with you? Do you?" She was near tears, but nodded her head weakly. "Then you're going to be good for me, and tomorrow I'll tell him so."

She was muttering to herself, chest heaving. "Oh my God. I can't... I can't... do this..." Then to me, "Look, I'll go spend the night in a hotel. And tomorrow you can just tell him everything is straightened out, right?"

"I have no intention of lying to my best friend. So it's entirely up to you what I tell him tomorrow. He asked me to find out how badly you want to stay with him, and that's what I'm going to do. Now come here."

Gretchen stared at the floor in front of her in disbelief. I called her name once more and got no response.

This was just about enough.

With a swift, but unhurried movement I had her ponytail in my hand and jerked her head back, forcing her to look at me. With my other hand I picked up the phone, and then spoke in my most menacing voice. "Do you want me to call Bill and tell him not to come back for you tomorrow? DO YOU?"

She shook her head frantically. "Nooooo! But..."

"Then be quiet and pay attention."

Gretchen gazed up at me and came to a decision. She lowered her eyes and then nodded in resignation. I released my hold on her hair and gently cupped her cheek. "Be a good girl for me and you'll have him back. Better than ever." And you'll know how to behave, I thought to myself.

Gretchen stood and I gestured toward the middle of the room. She stood with hands in her pockets, shoulders slumped. "Stand up straight please." She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and obeyed. I walked around her slowly, not yet touching her. " As Bill said, I have some experience in this area. And I've found it's helpful to demonstrate the rules to my little sluts before they get themselves into trouble."

Her head snapped around at the word 'slut'. "Yes, I said 'slut'. And that's just what you're going to be for me - a good little slut. Or I make a phone call. Understand?" She squeezed her eyes shut, and nodded.

"Good. Now drop your pants."

Again, her eyes snapped up to me, her mouth open in silent protest. I counted silently to three, shrugged, and moved to pick up the phone.

"OK, OK!" she said as she undid the buttons on her cutoffs. I replaced the receiver down as she slid the denim from her shapely legs.

No underwear. "Heh. Should have known." She reddened, and her breathing intensified as she dropped the shorts to her ankles and started to step out of them. "No, no. Stand still."

I had discovered long ago that a woman standing dressed except for pants around her ankles feels more naked than with no clothes at all. My cock hardened in my pants as I watched her squirm in embarrassment. Now we were ready for some fun.

Cautioning her to remain still, I walked into my bedroom and retrieved an item from my closet. When I returned I saw that Gretchen had made an effort to compose herself and was standing up straight, attempting to maintain an air of dignity - if such a thing is possible when your pants are around your ankles. The facade lasted until I crossed in front of her with the riding crop.

"What -"

"- is this? It's a riding crop. You know - like they use on horses. I bought this one from a real tack shop. Rebecca used to say said it feels very... authentic." Gretchen's eyes widened in fear. "Lace your hands behind your head." She froze.

"Do it now," I said in my calm-but-menacing voice. Her hands shot up to her head and she started trembling. I began walking around her in a tight circle.

"As I said, I find it helps to show a slut like you what to expect. Now - if you behave yourself and do what you're told, everything will be fine. You might even get to have an orgasm, although that's not likely tonight. If you don't behave, I'll punish you. Here's what punishment feels like."

Aiming for her right buttock, I swung the leather crop at about half strength. Gretchen screeched and started to bring her hands down to shield against further blows, then thought better of it and returned them to her head. Walking around her again, I found her glaring at me with her face clenched in pain.

"That wasn't my hardest, by the way. But I'd bet good money that you'll find out how hard I can do it by the end of the night." Actually I knew that it was unlikely I would need to carry out that threat. The biggest stick I carried was her devotion to Bill. But the crop certainly gets a slut's attention, which saves time.

She nodded and started to lower her hands. I tapped her on the elbow with the crop. "Keep 'em up." Another glare, but she obeyed quickly.

Tossing the crop on the couch, I strolled around Gretchen and admired her body. So slim and perfect. The small ring in her belly button called attention to an abdomen that appeared to have been carved from stone. The small of her back curved into a luscious, tight bottom. I reached out and patted the angry welt from the crop. She sucked in a breath and twisted slightly. "Quiet please", I said.

Next I ran my hands around her front and slowly up her shirt to find perky, B-sized breasts, as firm as I'd ever felt. I nibbled her ear as my fingers twisted her nipples, softly at first. She sighed, and at that moment I pinched her hard little buds cruelly. Her knees buckled and she stifled a growl of pain. "Bear it for me", I said as I twisted and pinched. She nodded, sweat beginning to form on her brow.

Pulling my hands out from under my shirt, I strode to my desk for my digital camera. Coming up behind Gretchen, I told her to close her eyes. Fingers still laced behind her head, she obeyed.

"I'm going to take your elbow and lead you to the sofa. Keep your eyes closed. If you open them before I tell you to, we will have a serious problem."


SWISH - CRACK! The crop came down on her ass and she cried out. Speaking directly into her ear I said, "I'm sure you meant 'Yes, sir.'"


"That still wasn't as hard as I can do it. Put your arms down." She lowered her arms and I roughly took her elbow to pull her toward my sofa. She shuffled awkwardly with the shorts still around her ankles.

"When I say 'go', I want you to step out of those shorts and sit down. Then we're going to have what I call "pussy inspection". You will lean back and spread your legs wide so I can look at you. Don't open your eyes. Understand?"

She nodded yes, looking like she was about to cry. "Go."

Gretchen dropped the cutoffs from her foot, turned and felt for the couch. Her face revealed abject humiliation as she sat back and slowly opened her legs. I could see she shaved, except for a racing stripe. Not enough pink though. "Wider," I said.

Breathing heavily she spread wider, pulling on the backs of her knees. Now I could see the pink, and it was glistening. I let her stay like that for a minute, saying nothing. She heard me taking the lens off the camera and opened her eyes. Gretchen snapped her legs shut and exclaimed, "Oh no! You're not taking pictures of me!"

I didn't move except to slowly look at her over raised eyebrows. "All right. Nobody's forcing you to do anything. You have a choice. Here." I tossed her the phone.

Gretchen looked at me warily as she punched in Bill's number and held the phone to her ear. "Bill! It's me. I can't believe what this asshole is making me... What? No! But I have to tell you, he wants to take PHOTOS of me and... What? Well, not yet. Um... OK."

Using one hand to cover herself with her shorts, she weakly held up the phone to me. "He, um... Bill wants to talk to you."

"Thanks," I said as I took the phone from her. "Hello Bill... Yeah, she is... Well, I told her she has a choice - you know me, I don't go in for that silly bondage stuff... Right... Yeah, that's what I said... What? No, just the shorts... No, not yet... OK... OK... Right, will do. Talk to you later."

Gretchen stared uncomprehendingly. "What did he say?"

"Come with me", I interrupted, striding from the room and into my study. She followed, hopping on one foot as she pulled up her shorts. I stopped in front of my computer and motioned for her lean over and look at the monitor. She eyed the crop in my right hand warily. "Oh, don't worry - no cropping for now. Just look at the screen."

She sat down in my chair just in time to see the chat program come up. Bill had logged on and selected a large font for his message:

*GRETCHEN, send me a picture of your pussy in the next five minutes or we're finished.*

It was difficult for me to maintain my stern demeanor and not laugh as I saw the series of emotions pile up on her face: Surprise, anger, fear, humiliation. And then, looking up at me, resignation. That rapidly turned back into fear as the computer beeped with another message from Bill:

*The five minutes have already started.*

Gretchen stared blankly at the screen. I smiled, tossed her the camera, and began walking into the living room. Over my shoulder I called out, "I'll be in the living room. I'd say you have about four minutes now."

Gretchen must have come to a quick decision, because I heard her scramble out of the chair noisily. She arrived in the living room clutching the camera in one hand and pulling off her shorts with the other, nearly falling over in the process. I took the camera from her as she finally succeeded in removing her shorts. Gretchen then threw herself back on the couch and opened her legs.

"Well? Take the picture!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, what exactly would you like me to do?" I asked pleasantly.

"I want you to take the picture."

"Of what"

She hesitated. "Of my... of me with my legs open."

I shook my head. "Try again."

She huffed and said, "Take a picture of my... pussy."

"Slutty pussy," I corrected. "Say it. Time is ticking. And think carefully about how you phrase it."

With the humiliation apparent on her face, she said slowly, "Please sir, would you take a picture of my... slutty pussy?"

"That's better." Click. "Spread wider." Click. "Spread it open with your fingers." Click. "Put one finger inside and look up here." Click. I then took her elbow and propelled her back into the study.

Sitting down at the computer, I motioned for Gretchen to sit on my lap. She did so with reluctance. I explained to her how to upload the images from the camera to the computer, and in turn how to send them to Bill. While she did this I slid my hands under her shirt to play with her breasts. She bit her lip but didn't attempt to stop me.

Bill's message soon appeared on the screen:

*I almost didn't think you were going to make it. Good pictures. What's happening now?*

While sliding my hands between her legs, I prompted Gretchen to reply. She began typing:

*I'm sitting on his lap, and he's touching me.*

I reached up and squeezed her nipples hard. "Uh uh. You can do better than that." She shrieked and used the backspace before retyping:

*I'm sitting on his lap and he's touching my pussy. I'm trying to be good.*

"Much better," I said, returning one hand to her soft folds. Bill then typed:

*See to it you are. Have you touched his cock yet?*

Gretchen typed 'no'.

*Well get on with it. Send me at least five more pictures (his choice, not yours). I'll see you in the morning. Show us both you can be GOOD!*

She turned her head to smile meekly at me. I smiled back, and then grabbed her hair roughly. Shoving her to her knees in front of me with one hand, I unzipped myself with the other. She began to cry.

She looked up at me imploringly when I told her to take it out. She was quite beautiful in that moment, but I have the experience not to be swayed too easily. "Don't make me tell you again," I said, menacingly.

Sobbing, she began to dig my cock out of my pants. When she had it out I ordered her to put her hands behind her back and keep them there. Holding her in place with one hand, I began slapping her tearstained face with my cock. Not hard, not to make it hurt. But rather, to bring home the situation to her. A slap on the cheek, then I'd rub it around her face. Another slap, then rub it against her lips. Her skin was very smooth. I repeated this for a few minutes, and her tears gradually slowed. She was beginning to accept her place was on her knees.

Cautioning her to stay still, I used the hand that had been holding her hair to pick up the camera. I carefully placed my cock along her cheek and framed the shot. "Look up here," I said before pressing the button. "Again..." Click. "OK, this time smile..." She produced a weak, halfhearted smile, which suited me just fine. Click. "Good, now open wide," I said while pushing her mouth over my cock.

I leaned back in my chair to enjoy the feel of Gretchen's warm, reluctant mouth on my cock. It is truly sublime to receive pleasure from a coerced, unwilling woman, and I savored the feeling for several minutes before grabbing her hair and fucking her mouth with my cock. "Relax your mouth and breath through your nose," I said when she spluttered in discomfort.

Gretchen's lips felt like velvet as they slid up and down my cock. I had put the camera back on the desk, and used my free hand to squeeze her nipples cruelly. She whimpered in pain around my cock, causing it to harden even more.

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byMichael Herrick© 0 comments/ 174679 views/ 27 favorites

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