tagNonConsent/ReluctanceUsing Ashleigh

Using Ashleigh


Author's note: This is a sequel to my earlier story Megan's Coercion. Although you could probably figure it out, I suggest you read that story first. This story features themes of manipulation and reluctant sex. All characters are over age 18.


The girl twisted beneath the scalding water, eagerly soaking every inch of her body. She washed away all signs of her running makeup, then ran her hands over her slender arms and taut belly, carefully covering every corner. She soaped her breasts repeatedly, lifting each in turn to be sure no spot went unwashed. As the almost unbearably hot water blasted her she addressed her vagina with the same intensity, soaping her shaved slit thoroughly, even slipping in two fingers. Her butt, legs, and feet all got the same, practically harsh treatment. Finally she rinsed the shampoo from her tangled blonde hair. She was clean everywhere.

Everywhere he had touched her.

Megan collapsed on her bed, naked and sweating from the shower. I let that old guy fuck me, she thought, bitterly. I offered him my pussy, just like he said. He took his time, and when he finally came he held me so tight he almost bruised me. There was probably still some of his cum deep in her.

She felt a spark of pleasure. Recollecting the encounter, Megan had subconsciously slipped fingers to her slit. She pulled her hand back in shame. It was bad enough that she had experienced an unwanted orgasm beneath him; she needn't have another at the memory.

But there was another shame. Megan didn't know which was worse, the unsought pleasure she had felt as he took her, or the agreement she had reached with him after the fact.


"Ashleigh," Megan said. "That's Ashleigh." Why had she so freely given up the name of her friend?

"She seems smart," Mr. McDonnell said.

She and the older man were still lying on the tangle of sheets after their encounter. He was stretched out on his back, hands tucked behind his head, his soft but still swollen cock resting on his belly. Megan was face down, cum still dripping from her slit. She turned her head to face him, peering through strands of her splayed hair.

"Why?" In her exhausted state Megan had missed the sarcasm.

"She a friend of yours?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You 'guess'. That's about what I thought."

"What do you mean?" She should be getting up and getting out. She had given him what he wanted. Why was she even talking to him?

"Just seems like she helped get you in this trouble, right?" He was smiling at her with a gentle expression so different from the triumphant one he'd worn earlier while penetrating her.

Not really, she thought. Megan had invited Ashleigh over only after almost a week of partying solo in Mr. McDonnell's house. On the other hand, she was always trying to impress Ashleigh. It had been sort of a competition between them to be the wildest girl in school. The more she thought about it the more truth she found in his suggestion.

"Yeah, you're right." What was the point of this, she wondered?

"So, Megan," he started, "here's the story. I want to delete that video I made of you. I really do. On the other hand, Ashleigh played a part here. It doesn't seem fair that only you should take responsibility for it."


"I'm between girlfriends right now," he explained. "I thought you and I might hang out a few more times this summer. But, if- "

"What!" she said, cutting him short. "No, no. One time only. We're done!" She sat upright, her breasts bouncing. "You have to delete that video!"

"Relax Megan, you didn't let me finish." He was still smiling at her. "I was going to say if you bring Ashleigh to me then we're even. You can go enjoy your summer."

"I am not fucking you again!" Her head was still a bit fogged from the alcohol, but she knew this much.

"And you don't have to. Just bring me Ashleigh." The previously gentle smile had transformed into a hungry, lupine gaze.

"'Bring her' to you? I don't even know what that means."

"I'll explain," he said. "I have a plan."


Megan finally texted Ashleigh. She had spent the last eighteen hours convincing herself that it was only fair, that Ashleigh deserved a share in the consequences of their actions. In any event, Mr. McDonnell had made it clear he would only let her off the hook if she 'brought him' Ashleigh.

Hey Ash

Megs. Sup?

Not much. Busy?

No. Pool. Ashleigh's family had a membership at a somewhat nicer pool than Megan had access to. Another good reason to dislike her.

Hey, remember that house sitting job I had?

Yeah. Old guy right?

A photo popped up on Megan's phone: A shot of Ashleigh's body reclining by the pool. Her tits were prominent in the foreground, barely contained by her bikini top. Ashleigh was prouder of her tits than Megan thought she should be. They were definitely bigger than Megan's, but not as perky. Megan thought that should count for something.

Nice. Yeah kinda old. He went to Stanford.


I think. Or gives them money.

Megan and Ashleigh had both applied to Stanford. Neither had been admitted, but the fantasy of living the California lifestyle had obsessed them for a few months. They would party in the sun, meet some Internet millionaires, marry the cutest ones and just do nothing for the rest of their lives.

Good. Tell him to get us in.

He will.

Fuck you.

Lol. He said he'd help.

Shit. How? Admissions are over.

He said there are late admissions. A few. They keep some until late. Megan herself had initially believed Mr. McDonnell when he told her the fabrication about late admissions. It was bullshit, he explained to her, but it sounded so believable.

What do I do?

Megan went on to explain the supposed arrangement. She provided McDonnell's email address, saying that Ashleigh should send him the test results, essay, and cover letter that had accompanied her application. Some time later, she would need to meet with him in person to discuss her application.

Then what?

Don't know. He has some sort of power. Gives them money I think.

You did it?

Yeah, but I haven't heard yet. Anyway, I think your test scores are better. McDonnell had suggested she use a bit of flattery. It worked.

Fuck yeah. Thanks Megs.

Okay. Do it. Lemme know. Megan put her phone down and rested her face in her hands.


"I want to watch."

It was two weeks later, and just half an hour before Ashleigh would arrive for the supposed interview. Megan was sitting with McDonnell in his tidy study, papers spread before them.

The man was visibly surprised. "What?"

Megan had worked up the courage to make the request but now struggled to explain it. "I... she kinda fucked me over, right?" She had gradually convinced herself that Ashleigh was to blame for her humiliating experience with McDonnell.

"Sure." said the older man. He was dressed in a charcoal suit, but had loosened his tie and hung the jacket over the back of his chair. "So..."

"So I want to see you do it. You wanted my help, I want to watch."

He seemed faintly amused. "Okay, but you realize how pissed she'll be if she finds out?"

"She won't."

"Okay. Give me your phone first though." He extended his hand.


"I don't want you filming it."

In truth Megan had considered exactly that. Mostly though, she just wanted to be sure Ashleigh got the same hard treatment she had. She slapped the smartphone into McDonnell's palm.

"You can watch from the closet. Once she and I get talking you can excuse yourself." McDonnell turned back to his desk, then glanced sharply back up, eyeing Megan. "You watching," he said. "That'll be fucking hot."


"Hello? Mr. McDonnell?"

Any lingering guilt Megan had felt for setting up Ashleigh disappeared quickly. Her friend was wearing a silk blouse which was losing the battle to contain her boobs. Generous scoops of tanned flesh strained the buttons and peeked over the top. Ashleigh's black hair hung in waves past her shoulders. She had brushed it until it shone glossy and thick. McDonnell welcomed her into the study.

"Hi Ashleigh." Megan didn't get up from the guest chair.

"Oh, hi Megan," said Ashleigh, somewhat icily. "I didn't know you'd be here." The brunette was wearing a dark, above the knees skirt. She had completed the look with white stockings.

"I won't stick around long. Just thought I'd introduce you to Mr. McDonnell."

"We met, thanks." Ashleigh glared at Megan. She clearly wanted freedom to turn on the charm without the other girl around as a distraction.

"Ashleigh, I printed the materials you provided." McDonnell called her attention to the stack of printouts of Ashleigh's test results, her application essay, etc. Next to them was a binder with the Stanford seal labeled 'Stanford University: Admissions Guidelines'. Another convincing fabrication. McDonnell had no affiliation or influence at Stanford.

"Okay," said Megan, rising. "I'm going to take off now. Thanks again Mr. McDonnell. I'll let myself out the back."

McDonnell waved. Ashleigh didn't even bother looking up.

Bitch, thought Megan. With Ashleigh distracted, she slipped through the master suite and into the closet. With the sliding door barely open she would have an excellent view of the bed. She could even see into the study. She watched McDonnell get started.

"Have a seat, Ashleigh. Let's go over this." To Megan, Mr. McDonnell looked serious and somewhat intimidating.

"Sure thing Mr. McDonnell." Ashleigh leaned over the desk, providing McDonnell with a straight-on view of her ample cleavage. "What did you want to ask me about?"

"These test results from last year," McDonnell seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "Did you retake the SAT?"

"Yes, but the first ones were better."

"Ashleigh, you need to provide all your results when you apply to Stanford. You can't just send the best results."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

Megan didn't have a view of Ashleigh's face, but it sounded like a bit of the perky confidence had slipped away.

"And in any event," McDonnell continued "your scores aren't exactly up to Stanford's high expectations."

"I see." The girl's voice was definitely getting softer.

"Let's not dwell on that though. Your essay is even more important. It shows how focused you are, and explains why you chose Stanford."

"Okay," said Ashleigh. "I really took my time with it, too."

McDonnell re-read the essay while Ashleigh watched nervously. After a few minutes he lowered the papers and looked the girl in the eye.

"Ashleigh, what degree did you plan to pursue at Stanford?"

"I..." She struggled for an answer. "English. I wanted to study English."

"I ask because in your essay you mention both Marine Biology and English. Two very different degrees." McDonnell fixed her with an unwavering stare.

"English, for sure. I mean, I know they have a good Marine Biology program, but I decided on English."

"Well that's good Ashleigh."

"It is?" Her voice brightened a bit.

"It's good because your test scores suggest you'd flunk out of freshman biology."

"Ah, okay... That's why I like English better."

"Yes, but this essay is full of errors. Did you proofread it?" He kept his gaze fixed on her.


"Yes, Ashleigh. 'Loose' and 'lose' are two different words with different meanings. Fulfillment has one more 'l' in it. Both Palo and Alto should be capitalized."

"Shit," muttered Megan under her breath. She wondered if her own application had been as weak.

Ashleigh was quiet. After a moment McDonnell rose and walked into the bedroom. Carefully avoiding the closet he draped his jacket over the back of a chair and began untying his tie.

"So, can you help me?" Ashleigh stood at the door to the bedroom. At some point she had unfastened one of the buttons on her blouse, exposing even deeper cleavage. Megan had to give her credit; with one leg slightly raised and crossed in front of the other, Ashleigh played the vulnerable schoolgirl quite well. The stockings were a nice touch.

"Ashleigh." McDonnell turned to her. Megan caught the way he quickly scanned her body before making eye contact. "Please don't take this too harshly, but you just don't seem to be Stanford material. Academics aren't everything, but you have to have drive; really want it." He fumbled with his cufflinks.

"I do want it, Mr. McDonnell. It's my first choice! I only applied to State after I didn't get in to Stanford."

"Dammit." McDonnell was distracted, seemingly unable to remove his cufflinks.

"Let me help!" Ashleigh slunk up to the older man, and wiggled the first cufflink free. "It was really tight!" she giggled. She held the first cufflink between her lips, checking to be sure McDonnell noticed the suggestive move. She coaxed the second one free, then pressed both into McDonnell's palm.

Megan had to suppress a groan. The girl was an even bigger tease than she was.

This time McDonnell didn't bother to conceal his interest as he looked Ashleigh up and down. "That's the kind of drive I'm talking about," he said. "Can you also help me with my belt?"

Ashleigh froze. Megan had begun to wonder if the brunette would voluntarily fuck the guy, but her startled expression made it clear that outright seduction wasn't part of her plan.

"My belt, Ashleigh. Can you help me with it, like you did the cufflinks?"

"I, I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I don't..."

"Hey, it's okay." McDonnell was still smiling. "I just thought maybe you had that Stanford drive. It's cool." He started to unbutton his shirt. "You can take off, Ashleigh. Enjoy your summer. State is a fine school."

She didn't budge. "Did Megan do this?"

McDonnell scoffed. "Do what? But no, Megan's test scores were awful. I couldn't have helped her."

"But you can help me?"

He sighed heavily. "Ashleigh, all I can do is put in a good word for you. That's it. I can't guarantee anything. But if you don't show you really want it, then I can't even do that."

The fucker was so convincing! Megan couldn't detect any sign of the multiple layers of bullshit he was piling on.

Ashleigh made no move to leave, but neither did she give McDonnell any further attention. Her eyes seemed focused on something far away.

McDonnell finished unbuttoning and removing his dress shirt. He was wearing a plain white undershirt which emphasized his lean strength. Megan wondered why she hadn't noticed that before. He stepped up behind Ashleigh, placing one hand on each shoulder. The girl stiffened, but said nothing. McDonnell leaned forward, pressing his face into her hair and taking in a deep breath.

"I love your hair Ashleigh, and it smells so nice." He stayed pressed against her a moment longer before pulling back. "You must take such good care of it." Reaching carefully around both sides of her neck he tugged the front strands back. Soon, he held all of her locks in his left hand. Her delicate neck was fully exposed.

McDonnell leaned forward again, this time placing his lips and nose along the base of her neck. He drew in another indulgent breath, then let it out slowly. "Mmm," he said. From her vantage in the closet Megan could see Ashleigh's brow furrow in distaste. McDonnell switched sides, again pressing his lips against the side of her neck.

Both were standing at the far side of the bed, facing Megan. McDonnell stood a good six or seven inches taller than the brunette. Leaning forward to kiss and nuzzle her neck also gave him a tantalizing view of the tops of her breasts. His left hand still corralling her hair, McDonnell slipped his free hand to her belly, sliding his fingers either side of the bottom button on her blouse. Before Ashleigh could react he had popped the button loose. He pressed his hand against the slight roundness of her belly.

Ashleigh wasn't quite as toned as Megan, the latter noted with some pride. Whereas Megan had a taut belly that accentuated her prominent hip bones, Ashleigh had some baby softness to her. Those tits, though. McDonnell reached his hand up to free the next button. Wordlessly, Ashleigh placed her hands against his, stopping him. She released a pent-up breath.

"Your skin is so soft, Ashleigh," he whispered to her. "It's like satin." He planted another kiss on her neck, but withdrew his hand from her blouse. Her hair spread out as he released his grip on it as well.

Both hands free he slid them down her back, lightly caressing her through the thin material. Continuing, he stroked her butt, and finally reached past the skirt to her thighs. McDonnell's fingers pressed against the tight cotton stockings as, reversing course, he slid his fingers upward. Pulling the back of the skirt up as he went, his experienced hands found the tops of the stockings. McDonnell explored briefly, slipping a finger into the elastic top before letting it pop back to her tender flesh.

Megan watched intently as Ashleigh's expression shifted between stoicism, distaste, and something else. Was it resignation? Although she couldn't see from her angle, McDonnell's hands must surely be nearing Ashleigh's most intimate places.

As if to confirm Megan's suspicions, Ashleigh spun suddenly, twisting to face McDonnell. Her skirt fell back in place but her breath came heavy. "Mr. McDonnell, I'm sorry, but I..." She trailed off.

"You what?" The older man began playing with her hair again, arranging it symmetrically, and brushing it from her cheek. "Those Stanford boys aren't going to know what hit them," he said with a grin.

"You think so?" The brunette seemed momentarily to forget whatever objection she had planned.

"Oh yes, Ashleigh, you're beautiful." He turned his attentions to straightening the collar of her blouse. His fingers crept lower.

"I just want to go to the school that's right for me," Megan said. She rested her hands on top of McDonnell's, but without conviction. He popped the next button free.

"You can't do better than Stanford," McDonnell agreed. "You'll fit right in there." There was one button left.

"Do you really think so?"

Megan rolled her eyes. Ashleigh would fit in best at the local community college.

"Absolutely!" McDonnell popped the last button free.

Abandoning her pretense at stopping his advances, Ashleigh dropped her arms and let McDonnell slip the silk top past her shoulders. He let out a whistle.

Even with Ashleigh turned largely away from her, Megan could tell the brunette's set didn't disappoint. She was wearing a white bra which plunged deep, pushing her breasts up and together. It was trimmed at the top with a touch of lace that failed to conceal her areolas. The contrast of her tanned breasts against the white bra was striking.

McDonnell gently turned Ashleigh away from him until he could pull the blouse the rest of the way off. Running his hands down the bra straps, he stroked slowly around the outsides, then cupped them from below. He was staring directly at Megan.

Shit! Megan felt the familiar twinge of arousal. The growing heat started out slowly, but was unmistakable.

Still staring directly at Megan's hiding place in the closet, McDonnell lifted both of Ashleigh's breasts. His thumb and index finger quickly located her nipples beneath the lace and gently squeezed. Ashleigh's lips parted; her eyes pressed shut. McDonnell released then repeated, this time squeezing the bottoms of her breasts, pulling them upward. He held them firmly for an achingly long moment before releasing both. Ashleigh made a barely audible 'oh'.

Megan was definitely damp. Unbuttoning her shorts, she slipped three fingers to her slit and probed. A small shock of pleasure shot through her. The sensation of arousal was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome.

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byAllenWoody© 3 comments/ 52329 views/ 36 favorites

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