Lift Your Skirts, Emily

The first instalment of what may grow to be a much longer saga, depending on how much I like the characters.

*****

"Lift your skirts, Emily."

"I'm sorry, Sir Joshua. What did you say?"

"I asked you to lift your skirts."

"Sir Joshua, that's a very improper request!"

"Nonetheless, if you wish me to consider your request, you should comply with mine. Lift your skirts, Emily."

"Sir Joshua, I'm a married woman!" I protested.

"And so you should be familiar with the request. Lift your skirts. Please don't disappoint me, Emily."

"I - I..." I sputtered. But unable to see any alternative, I reached down, gathered the fabric of my skirt and slowly raised it."

"The petticoats too, Emily."

I bent forward a little more, gathered the outer skirt of my dress and its under-petticoats together and slowly lifted the assembled garments - above my ankles, above my knees, up to the garters of my stockings.

"Higher, Emily." Sir Joshua sat in his chair, a sardonic smile on his face, surveying the landscape I was slowly revealing. "Lift your skirts to your waist. I want to see your cunt."

I almost dropped the skirt in surprise. "Sir Joshua! Such - such, language!"

His smile broadened. "Do not be afraid of words, my dear. They simply serve to describe, inform and request. You've used many words to request that I consider renewing the lease on your family home and that I give you more time to pay back the money your family owes me. I, in my way, am simply requesting the provision of certain conditions that I'd like to place on fulfilling your request. The first is that you show me your cunt. I don't think that, given the sums of money involved, it is a particularly onerous request. Do you?"

"But - but Sir Joshua, it's - it's indecorous. I'm shocked by - by your behaviour."

"I understand that you may be, but nonetheless, you will raise your skirts to your waist and show me your cunt. Please do not argue, my dear. If you would like me to provide the assistance you have asked for, you must comply."

Unable to find any alternative course of action, I lifted my skirts as he had demanded. I could not meet his gaze, but instead, stared at the floor, as he surveyed my nakedness above my garters. I did not approve of the new fashion for pantaloons, preferring instead to wear loose-fitting petticoats and stockings, so I was now exposed to his view.

"Excellent, Emily my dear. I must say you have a very pretty cunt, and I see that you have chosen to remove those bothersome hairs. It looks quite delectable."

"My - my husband and I both abhor the un-aesthetic look of hair - down there. We both believe it looks more attractive without."

"I admire your tastes - and your husband's. And talking of tastes, please come over here - no, keep your skirts raised - so I can taste that pretty cunt of yours."

"Sir Joshua - I..." He just smiled at me, raised his eyebrows in silent admonition for my attempted protest, and I realised that I had no option but to comply.

"Sit on the chaise-longue," he said, as I stood in front of him, "and spread your legs."

My face felt hot. I suspect I must have been blushing bright red, but could only comply with his command. As I lay back, he stood up, then knelt on the floor beside the couch and gently touched the outer lips of my vaginal area.

"As I suspected, Emily my dear; you are already wet. Our little game is getting you quite excited, despite your protests."

With that, he inserted a finger into my vagina, and it became clear that his observations were correct. It slid deep inside me, with little resistance. He turned it to and fro, sending little pulses of pleasure through my loins. And then - and then he lowered his head and swept his tongue along my moist and open cleft.

I think I must have squealed, but he took no notice. His hot, wet mouth travelled the length of my open vulva, from where his finger was inserted deep inside me to my mons and back.

"Delightful. Your cunt juices are delicious, Emily - as I guessed they would be." That word sent another frisson of shock through me, as his fingers and tongue caused a whirlwind of strange and pleasurable sensations that I was powerless to resist. Just as I was succumbing to the wicked pleasure he was giving me, beginning to wish for him not to stop but to continue, he raised his head.

"Time, I think, for you to remove that dress, Emily."

Reluctantly I got to my feet, somewhat unsteadily, the warm, wet glow between my legs making me feel that the sheer wrongness of the situation was perhaps not so bad. With his assistance, I unhooked the buttons at the back of my dress and allowed it to slide off. He unlaced my petticoats and I stepped out of them, dressed - if that were a word that could describe my semi-nakedness - in just my tight-laced bodice, my stockings and shoes. Facing me, he pulled open the fabric covering my breasts, exposing them to his gaze - and to his touch. He stroked them gently, then pulled upon and squeezed both nipples. I gasped.

"Delectable, Emily," he said, surveying my body as if it were some piece of interesting porcelain. As he spoke, he released my breasts and started removng his waistcoat. "And now, my dear, please kneel before me, unfasten my breeches, and extract my prick."

Again, I felt a frisson of shock and - dare I admit it? - excitement at the casual obscenity. Knowing that I had no valid opinion in the matter, I knelt as he asked, unbuttoned the front of his breeches and pulled them open. What greeted me was a penis, large, semi-erect and also devoid of hair.

"You will see that I subscribe to the same aesthetic as yourself, my dear. And now, please become better acquainted with my prick. Open your delectable mouth and suck it."

I gasped. "Sir - Sir Joshua. I'm - I'm a lady, not a - a harlot! How could you expect me to do such a thing?"

"It's quite simple, my dear. You just open your mouth wide, cover your teeth with your lips, and take a large mouthful. Ensure your mouth is nice and wet, and don't forget to use your tongue. The rest I shall leave to your imagination and inventiveness. Please proceed."

Unable to speak and apparently in no position to protest, I could only do as he demanded. The head of his penis was velvety to the touch, and tasted slightly salty, partly coated as it was by a sticky fluid. I opened as wide as I could, placed the head of his penis against my lips and slowly lowered my mouth onto it. I found I could take it a little deeper each time I bobbed my head. My initial trepidation was replaced with a desire to please him, to make him well-disposed to meeting my own requests, and I realised that, if this was what it took to encourage him to look kindly on my family, then I could think of many worse things.

He let me continue for several minutes, at one stage suddenly grasping the back of my head and forcing his penis deep into my mouth. I thought this might cause me to vomit, but I restrained myself. Though not exactly comfortable, I found I was able to accommodate him, even as he pushed past my throat and into my gullet. I took a deep breath, steadying myself and letting him use my throat as he wished.

After perhaps half a minute of this rather cruel treatment, he withdrew, to my relief, and I gulped air. "Are you satisfied now, Sir Joshua?" I croaked.

"By no means, Emily. Now I'd like you to kneel on the chaise-longue and part those delectable thighs of yours, so I can admire your pretty little cunt and decide how best to fuck it."

"Please, Sir Joshua, don't - don't ask me to do that. I'm a married woman. I know my husband would not approve."

"Emily, my dear; I don't give a damn what your husband may or may not approve of. But no, I won't ask if I can fuck you. No. But you, my dear Emily - you will ask, perhaps even beg me to fuck you."

"That - that's not possible, Sir Joshua," I replied with a slight tremor in my voice.

"Oh, but it is, my dear. Take up the position I told you, if you would, and await further instructions."

So, reluctantly, I knelt on the chaise longue. I felt helpless, my naked and rather wet cleft open and exposed to his view. I heard a rustling noise behind me and realised that he was undressing. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw that he was now naked. His strong, lean body looked attractive, if a little intimidating - but not nearly as intimidating as the large and now very erect penis that sprouted from between his loins.

Then his fingers were back in my cleft, pressing inside me, first one finger and then a second. He applied a gentle curling motion and once again, my loins were on fire, driven mad by the sensations inside me. To my shock, he bent and licked my anus. The sensation was strange - a slight tickling, mixed with an intense erotic thrill that overcame the sense of revulsion I should have been feeling.

"A sweet, tight little arsehole you have there, my dear Emily. Perhaps more of that later. For now, are you ready?"

My moral compass should have been pointing directly towards a large "NO," appalled by how he was treating me, ashamed for my ladylike sensibilities and my reputation should anyone come to know of this wanton behaviour. However, there was a heat in my loins that seemed to be bending the needle of that compass to a definite "YES!"

"I - I.." was all I could stammer.

"What you're trying to say, dear Emily, is 'yes, dear Sir Joshua. Please fuck my sweet, tight little cunt with your big, masterly prick.' Isn't that right?"

"Sir Joshua!" I gasped, embarrassed - but perhaps a little excited - by the string of obscenities he had just uttered.

"That's a good start, Emily, but you need to say the rest. Unless, of course, you're no longer interested in me providing the assistance you requested earlier?"

"Oh Sir Joshua! You're too cruel!" I bleated. All the while, his fingers inside me, and also now at the front of my cleft, were eroding my resolve. I had rarely felt so excited before, and though it seemed unladylike, it was thrilling.

"Not at all, dear Emily. I'm sure that when we're finished and you look back on our little soirée, you won't consider me cruel at all. Now, do you remember what you have to say? Those magic words that will take us to the next level?"

The next level? How many levels, I wondered, did Sir Joshua have in mind? What might be beyond this latest trial of my will?

"I - er - Sir Joshua, er..."

"Yes?" he said, still stirring up wicked sensations in my loins that were so hard to ignore.

"Sir - Sir Joshua, would you - would you please, would you..."

"Yes?"

"Would you please - please - please f-fuck my - my - my cunt with your - your big - big - prick? Please?"

"Well, Emily, I suppose I would. If you ask me again. And ask it nicely, politely, like a young lady. Can you do that?"

I took a deep breath - increasingly hard as Sir Joshua's fingers were still stirring the depths of my vagina with great skill, and stroking my cleft to a point where I felt I might explode.

"Sir - Sir Joshua, would you please - please fuck my cunt with your nice big prick? Please, sir?"

"It will be my pleasure, my dear. And, of course, yours."

He withdrew his fingers from my vagina, and a moment later I felt the velvety head of his penis nudging the entrance. He barely paused before slowly but insistently thrusting it, inch by excruciating inch, into that wet orifice. I'm not sure what I said - no more than a few incoherent "OH!"s and perhaps some gasped "Oh my God!"s. But before I could say much else, I felt his thighs make contact with me, and the whole of my vagina - the whole of my holiest hole, I thought - filled with something large, hot and hard.

I don't recall any pain, only a stretching sensation and a feeling of fullness that transcended everything. And the girth of his penis that opened me so unexpectedly was matched by an impressive length that probed deep, deep inside me. Within moments I had discarded any concerns about my infidelity. When Sir Joshua began making his obscene demands of me, from which I could see no escape, I had told myself that this was my duty to my family. My husband and my parents would surely understand if I was forced to do distasteful things in order to protect our fortunes and security.

But this - this was different. I had thought to endure Sir Joshua's advances. I had not expected to enjoy what he was doing to me. Or to be thrilled by his sexual onslaught. Each thrust, at first slow and resolute, then growing increasingly deep and forceful, seemed to find pleasure points within my vagina that were previously unknown to me. Despite myself, what should have filled me with shame and remorse now only served to make me want more.

Then Sir Joshua swung his arm around me to cup my mons and use his fingers in the front of my cleft, all the while leaning close and saying crude and disgusting things in my ear. "Your cunt is delightfully tight, my dear. Do you like being fucked like this, pounded from behind by a hard prick like a common strumpet? Well, my dear, do you?"

"I - I... OH! Oh my Lord! Oh my Lord!"

"I'm not a baronet yet, my dear, just a knight, but I am your master, right now." He demonstrated this to powerful effect with a number of quick, deep thrusts that took my breath away. "And like the knights of old, I can wield my lance. How does it feel to be impaled upon it, Emily dearest?"

"OH! I - it's - I mean - OH! Oh my sweet Saviour! Oh dear! Oh my! Oh! OH!" was all I could muster, as each thrust, each stroke of his fingers, produced sensations not previously dreamt of. This was wicked, sinful, inexcusable, I knew. But it felt sublime, exciting and passionate. While my head told me I must endure it, and wish for it to be over soon, my body longed for it to continue, to give me ever greater forbidden pleasure.

"So, my little minx, do you like my prick? Do you like it deep in your cunt? Tell me!"

"Oh! Oh - oh yes, sir - Sir Joshua," I gasped.

"Good. Would you like me to fuck you until you climax, Emily?"

"Oh yes. Yes, please, Sir Joshua," I sighed.

"I'd like that too, Emily. To feel your luscious, silky wet cunt ripple around my prick as you reach your climax. Then to spurt my seed deep inside that hot, wet tunnel. Give you a little bastard to bring up. Wouldn't that be fun?"

I felt a sudden shiver. In the midst of my pleasure, I hadn't considered he would make me pregnant. "Oh Sir Joshua! Please - please don't do that! Please don't - don't spend inside - inside my cunt, sir!"

"Hmm. That would be a shame, as I only like to spend my seed somewhere hot, wet and tight. So if not in your cunt, then where do you suggest, my dear?"

"I - I don't know, Sir Joshua. On - on my body?"

"No, my dear. The sensations would not be strong enough."

"On - on my face, then?" The degradation that having my face covered in his seed would bring was something I wished to avoid, but if it would help me avoid pregnancy, I could endure it.

"Tempting, but again, no hot, tight wetness at the point of climax."

Though the idea revolted me, I could see only one option. "In my - in my mouth, Sir Joshua. You can - you can push it into my throat, as you did before, if you wish." I really didn't want to have to taste the sticky emanations that I knew would come from Sir Joshua's penis at the moment of his climax, but I feared pregnancy even worse.

"Oh, a delightful idea, my pretty. But I have an even better one."

I felt his thumb, covered in some slippery substance, circle my anus. The sensation shocked me, because it was both obscene and wicked, but at the same time it sent shivers of pleasure through me. Before I could say anything, he pressed the digit hard into that tight opening, and slipped it inside. I think I squealed, in shock - and also in a strange, perverted delight at the odd and strangely pleasurable sensations it produced.

Slowly, excruciatingly, he pushed his thumb fully into my tight hole, and then slowly swirled it around. I could only gasp and whimper. His penis was still thrusting deep into my vagina, his other hand stroking and teasing the sensitive area in the front of my cleft, and this ordinarily repugnant act was adding strange but wildly exciting new sensations to this bizarre and forbidden mix.

Then to my surprise - and disappointment - he withdrew his thumb, and took his hand away from my mons. His penis was still thrusting lazily inside me, but then I felt something cold and slippery against my anus, swiftly followed by him inserting first one and then a second finger. I gasped, as his fingers probed deeper than his thumb had gone, swirling around inside that tight tunnel. The sensation was somewhat less erotic, as he seemed to be trying to stretch my tight ring and the tunnel beyond. And suddenly it dawned on me what he was about.

"Sir Joshua! You - you're not - surely you're not - planning to - to sodomise me?" Even the mention of the word sent a shudder of apprehension through me.

"My dear girl, of course I am. The best place for me to deposit my seed, if not in your delightfully wet and silky cunt, will be inside that enticing, tight little arsehole." With that, he managed to insinuate a third finger into the tight hole, now swirling, now thrusting, now spreading all three digits. His objective seemed to be to enlarge my tight ring, a process that was proving less than comfortable for me, especially as his large penis was still slowly and languidly thrusting inside my vagina. I wondered for a moment which would be worse; for him to spurt his seed into my womb and make me pregnant, or for him to force that long, thick penis into my back passage. I realised, with bitter resignation, that the pain of sodomy would last but a few minutes, and the embarrassing memory perhaps for some weeks, whereas the shame of an illegitimate pregnancy, the ordeal of childbirth and the anguish of making my husband acknowledge a child that was not his would last a lifetime.

"Sir Joshua, I see I have no option but to allow you to use my body disgracefully to satisfy your perverted desires. It seems that you wish to use every orifice in my body to give pleasure to your - to your prick. I will, reluctantly acquiesce to you using my - my back passage in this way, to - to sodomise me, if you will give me your word as a gentleman that you will agree to my requests, that you will not make me pregnant, and that no-one outside this room will ever hear of my shame. Will you agree to that, Sir Joshua?"

I heard him laugh. "My dear Emily, you are in no position to dictate terms. But if it makes you more amenable to my plundering of your delightful arse, then yes, I agree. But in return, you need to welcome me into that tight little tunnel. Do you agree to that?"

How could I, a lady of some breeding, allow - let alone encourage - a man like Sir Joshua to use me so shamefully and disgustingly? But clearly, he was giving me no choice in the matter. I only hoped that his penis could be made to feel as good in my back passage as he had surprisingly made it feel inside my vagina. In reality, I was secretly disappointed that he would not - perhaps could not - continue those delightful thrusts inside my - my cunt, as he insisted on calling it, to the point where I could achieve the climax I felt sure he could give me. But pregnancy was too high a price to pay, so I resigned myself to some minutes of pain to achieve my objective, rather than the pleasure that I now so desperately craved.

I sighed. "Very well, Sir Joshua, what would you have me do?"

"Quite simply, my girl, you just need to ask me to do what we both want."