The Trials of Pauline Ch. 01

1. The dream

Polly was perspiring with apprehension and fear. She looked round the well-kept lawn and shrubbery basking in warm summer sunshine. All was hushed. No bird sang. No wind sighed. In the middle of the lawn was a large oak tree.

Hanging spread-eagled from the branches of the large tree, was a naked woman, her ankles tethered to stakes driven in the lawn. She had a tall, if slight figure, breasts lifted high with her arms stretched above her, emphasising their fullness, bathed in the warm sunshine. A slim waist led to ample hips with graceful, round cheeks to her bottom. They hung slightly over her upper thighs. Blonde hair cascaded loosely over her shoulders, shimmering in the rays of the sun.

Polly realised that it was herself! She was watchful, with an increasing anticipation of excitement, fear in her eyes. A large ugly brute of a man was approaching her, a whip in one hand, casually tapping it in the palm of the other. She recognised him - it was her grandfather! He too was naked except for a sweat band round the head, a wide studded belt round his waist and open sandals laced up his calves. A giant of a man with bulging, muscular arms and shoulders, a mass of black, matted hair covering his chest.

In his eyes was an evil glint as they studied her frail body. He approached nearer and nearer to her. She stared hypnotically at the enormous half-filled penis, swinging lazily from its nest of coarse, black hair encompassing his fat, sagging belly. The phallus was huge and misshapen! Grotesque! Polly couldn't take her eyes off it.

He came up to her, laughing in her face, his foul breath abusing her nose, as he tweaked her rubbery nipples between the thumb and forefinger of his sweaty hands, ingrained with dirt. Her young breasts were firm and rounded, her nipples chunky. There was a stab of pain as he twisted them hard, one after the other. Then, he walked back a few paces and turned, lifting his whip arm, ready to strike.

'Please, grandad! Don't, please!' she croaked.

There was a faint gasp; an intake of breath. It was then that Polly noticed a ring of people watching. All were naked in the warm sunshine, their bodies glowing with health. Already aroused and stiff, the men amongst them were gaping lewdly at her soft defenceless curves, trying to catch a glimpse of the secret patch of flesh between her thighs before the punishment began.

Without knowing why, she was aware that her secret feminine folds of flesh were extraordinarily beautiful by common consent. All who saw her vulva worshipped it, over-awed by its perfection. The perfectly shaped labia framed with short golden curls, the clitoris pouting proudly from its hood. The distended vaginal opening, dilated between the inner pink lips.

Polly knew she'd been wicked, deserving punishment, but didn't know why or how. Perhaps she'd been discovered pleasuring herself with a candle, or spying on her parents fornicating. Whatever the misdemeanour, she was to be punished in front of these people. It was humiliating. To her dismay, she realised that the spectators were all members of her family.

There was her father, smiling grimly, hiding his erection tightly in his fist. Her mother standing beside him, pert breasts rising and falling in the excitement of seeing her daughter about to be flogged by this big brute. Uncles, aunts and cousins stood in silence, holding their breath, some stroking their genitals obscenely, eyes glued to Polly's body, to her pronounced genitals. Polly was dismayed to find that they were magnified for everyone to see them clearly, every detail, watching as the folds became moist with her juices, the throbbing opening.

It was then she noticed her husband. Smiling at her humiliation, gently stoking his stiff cock. The cock she was so familiar with. The cock that pleasured her frequently.

A sudden cry.

'Punish her!'

It was her mother across the lawn, her distant voice floating away in the air. Polly looked with surprise at her mother's angry face.

'She's very wicked, punish her!'

The call was taken up by others. Her husband cried out, others joining in. 'Punish her! Whip her!'

There came a chorus of distant shouts.

A swish!

Everything was in slow motion. Polly watched the whip snake towards her. Then it stung her with a sickening crack! It lashed round her plump, pale buttocks, biting into the flesh. Her body jolted with the shock of pain, her breasts rocked wildly. Polly cried out! The end of the leather thong curled round her groin flicking painfully, raising a red weal.

'Again,' came a screech from her mother.

Polly hated her mother.

'Again,' came in chorus from the others.

The heavy frame of her grandfather twisted away from her, the muscles in his arm taught with effort, preparing to administer another lash. A brutal smile split his hairy face. His black eyes gleamed cruelly. Polly watched his monstrous manhood jerk larger, swaying lewdly in front of him. He paused to concentrate on the target. Then he swung his arm.

The whip snaked through the air once again, lashing her buttocks, stinging with brutal pain. She yelped again! The spreading heat filled her loins. Her clitoris throbbed. Polly knew that she was beginning to lubricate freely.

'No, please! Enough!' Polly cried, squirming, twisting her body around violently, tugging on the bonds round her wrists and ankles, in a vain attempt to escape. Her hips and breasts swung frenziedly in her effort to escape. She didn't want her family and friends to see the juices dripping from her vagina.

She looked round the spectators with appealing eyes. But they were watching the contorting body with salacious interest, licking their lips. The branch of the sturdy tree swayed and the leaves swished against each other, but in vain. The movement, at least, served to detract from the stinging pain in and around her shapely buttocks.

Pretending to faint, she collapsed as though in despair, hanging exhausted, perspiring freely with the effort. The perspiration turned to trickles of sperm, sticky and warm.

Her grandfather merely laughed at her useless tussle. His arm was relaxed, the whip resting in front of him on the grass. The spectators were equally unwilling to forgo the sight of watching her being punished. They were almost drooling at the sight. Their jeers reached Polly's ears. She still didn't know why she was being punished. If only they would tell her!

Taking a deep breath, tensing his body for the swing, the brute twisted his body again, taking aim. When it came, the third stroke, the heaviest so far, lashed her soft cheeks brutally. Polly screamed, acutely aware of the swelling of the flesh where the lash had bit into it like wasp stings. She swore revenge to herself as, through her tears of torment, she saw the brute's huge erection, now at full stretch, swaying insolently.

It was mocking her futile attempts to free herself. Standing facing her, open legged and fat bellied, his phallus thrusting arrogantly, the enormous head was only half hidden in its stretched foreskin. Thick white stuff, like starch paste, seeped from its eye, dribbling down the thick deformed shaft. He scooped up the sticky mess onto stubby, dirty fingers as he approached Polly.

With a loud guffaw in front of her face, he smeared the loathsome curd over her lips and teeth with a rough wipe across her face. Polly jerked her head from side to side, but couldn't avoid the vile slime. Its stench was putrid; disgusting! Her whole body was now streaming with sperm, trickling down her breasts and thighs.

Still laughing, the brute gripped her labia between thumb and second finger, squeezing hard. The pain in the tender folds stung through her. Then, he took four steps back and lashed her again and again with the full weight of his body behind the strokes, sweat trickling down his ugly face and through the matted hair on his expansive chest. The spectators cheered him on.

His belly shuddered, his shoulders shook and his penis swayed wildly as he twisted and lunged at her helpless body time after time. He didn't care where the strokes landed so long as they reached their target on the plump curves of her torso. Polly squirmed and twisted weakly, groaning. Tears of sperm streamed down her cheeks. Tears of anguish and shame.

When the brute finally stopped, and she had emerged from her all-enveloping pain, she became aware of people standing behind her, rubbing cool cream onto her painful stripes. She winced at the touch. One hand roamed between the cleft of her smarting cheeks, gently rubbing the rear opening before seeking out her own fully aroused vulva, groping at it lewdly, feeling its slippery secretion.

Polly winced at the thought of her labia being squeezed hard again. But the groper would be very privileged to have fondled that secret beauty, feeling it flex and flutter at the touch.

With rearing erections, her father and uncle came to either side of her with wide leather straps. Her father gave her a pitiful look. He stared at the lips of her sex, aroused and swollen. On an impulse, he bent quickly, to kiss it tenderly. Then, in unison with each other, they began to thrash at her inner thighs with the belts. Her recoiling body was sent back into pain-racked oblivion, moaning and wailing, an orgasm welling up in her loins. Suddenly, the beating stopped. Polly was hanging, almost unconscious, her whole body racked with suffering, aflame with the burning pain radiating from her buttocks and thighs. Not a square inch of white flesh remained.

Her loins burned and throbbed with desire. The once smooth cheeks were swollen roughly, pitted with red, blue and purple, a mass of bruises and stripes. She glanced down with dull tearful eyes to see her battered thighs, similarly coloured. Then her ankles were untied by her father and uncle, lifting them up waist high. Her thighs were drawn as far apart as they would go, and held steady to fully expose her secret wet passage, lips pulled wide open.

Both men gazed lecherously at her gaping sex, perfectly proportioned; peeping lips, beautiful, pale and helpless surrounded by a contrasting discoloured flesh. It was obvious that both men were eager to ravish it with their iron-hard protrusions. Polly looked at her father searchingly. She loved his handsome, beautiful penis. Strong, straight and hard.

She wanted him to comfort her in his arms, his hazel eyes full of sympathy, to penetrate her tender lips gently with his hard cock, and soothe her mind and body with long regular strokes. But it was, in fact, the hideous giant she saw appear between her father and uncle, now holding his grotesque, dribbling phallus in one hand.

'Take her! Fuck her!' her mother cried. 'The bitch wants her father but she'll not get him. You take her. Teach her a lesson!'

'Fuck her!' came the chorus.

Lifting her head with a great effort, horrified by his triumphant grin, Polly stared dully at him. Everyone was staring avidly at that massive stake of male flesh, swimming before her vision, wondering how Polly could possibly encompass the monster inside the perfect vulva. It would be despoiled forever!

Rough hair scoured against her sore thighs as loins met hers and the huge head of the filthy misshapen shaft nudged at the entrance of her chaste vulva. He pushed hard!

There was a loud cheer as the misshapen phallus forced its passage into her vagina. Thrusting in and out with rough strokes. Polly felt the orgasm, already simmering inside her, rise deep inside her belly. The tingling in her loins. The erect clitoris trembling with excitement. As she screamed out her release, the cock withdrew to splatter her breasts with a succession of streams of thick white sperm.

Her uncle immediately took over, sinking his hard long cock into the sperm-soaked vagina. To her left, her brother was masturbating lewdly, whilst her husband was fiercely fucking her mother, leaning against the trunk of an oak tree, moaning with ecstacy.

It was then Polly woke up, screaming, perspiring. The scream was a cry of orgastic release, her hips jerking as the sensation rippled through her. A thick cock was thudding in and out of her from behind, testicles slapping against her bottom. A thumb was pressed against the bloated clitoris. The puffed lips were hot and wet, having discharged the slippery offering of her vagina.

As she looked over her shoulder, she saw her smiling brother roll away, having filled her with his discharge, and close his eyes. She knew her husband would be in her mother's bed.

She lay there exhausted, thinking of her father, wondering where he was. Polly often dreamed about him. Ever since he mysteriously disappeared in Greece he had frequented her dreams, usually naked and aroused with sexual desire for her. She loved him. She wanted him. Her hand cupped the hot wet vulva in its palm, stiffened fingers rotating against her clitoris.

Ripples of pleasure were beginning to surge through her loins as her clitoris responded to the ministration of her expert fingers. In her mind's eye, she could still see that ugly, gnarled cock of her dreams penetrating the opening of her soft defenceless flesh. It sent a shiver of excitement through her loins.

Her orgasm was complete and satisfying.