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From: Vinnie Tesla <vinnie@vinnietesla.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP: Victim/Victorian [7/8] {Vinnie Tesla} (f/M, M/tg, bond, rom, anal, oral, hist, humor) <*>
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Date: Fri, 01 Jul 2011 12:10:02 -0400
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Victim/Victorian
Chapter 7: Persuasions
by Vinnie Tesla


Corky dreamed he was flying. Green, hilly countryside slipped away
beneath him, heady excitement filled him. His mind reached upward and
his frame followed without effort, proceeding with the thoughtless
grace of a great fish of the open ocean. Gaining in confidence, he
slid downward until he was brushing the treetops, banking from side to
side for the sheer joy of his motion, reveling in the wind on his
face, the gentle heat of the sun on his back.

Then, with a jolt, he was brought up short. He looked down. For the
first time, he noticed that he was naked, save for a slender pink
ribbon which circled his genitals and extended, taut, into the
distance, holding him fast.

With renewed effort, Corky strained against the silken bond, banking
frantically from side to side, but the ribbon held him fast. He
realized that he was slipping backward and it occurred to him to look
to the ribbon's point of origin. On the ground, he saw three titanic
figures gathered together, one pulling him in at an alarming
rate. Though he strained to make out their features, the details
somehow eluded him, though their voices seemed eerily familiar. Before
Corky could formulate a plan of action, a great hand, pale and warm,
closed about his bare midriff, fingers thicker than his arms holding
him fast.

"Oh, Mother!" said one of the giantesses, "What a  lovely specimen!"

"Why, thank you, Margaret," replied the creature that held him
fast. "He does look rather tasty, does he not?" As she spoke, she was
passing the ribbon about him in a series of loops, binding his arms to
his torso like a hapless insect caught in rings of spider silk "What
do think?" she asked the third monstrous figure

"The poor thing," came the answer, in a voice that filled Corky with a
thrill of hope and longing. "He seems dreadfully frightened."

"Ah, my tender-hearted Beatrice," said Corky's captor, as she bound
his legs in like wise to his arms.  "But you know I shall do him no
harm. I catch and I release. It's ever so much more sporting that
way."

Though her words might be reassuring, the knot she was now tying to
secure the ribbons that held him fast was not. "There! " she said,
hefting him in one hand, "I think he's ready."

She lowered him, and he suddenly noticed that she was as bare as
he--nay, more so, given the yards of ribbon that now enclosed him.  She
reclined now on the grass, spreading her ample thighs widely. Her
daughters knelt beside her, the gentle-voiced one's continued
protestations not barring her from watching the proceedings raptly.

Corky's sight was confronted with a great tangle of thick brown hair
between the giant's thighs. Beneath were great crinkled vermilion lips
from which radiated a tangible heat and an animal smell both
terrifying and seductive. In the next instant he was being pressed
against that damp opening, his head passing between the lips for a
moment before his moistened face was rudely shoved against a rigid
clitoris quite the size of his two fists together, protruding proudly
from its great wrinkled cowl.

The creature holding him released a long shuddering sigh. "Ah," she
said, "Just the thing." Still Corky squirmed ineffectually in her
steely grasp, desperate to escape the unspeakable fate that so-clearly
awaited him.

"Oh, dear," said a voice from far above, "Isn't there some other w--"
but the rest of the sentence was lost as he was plunged head and then
shoulders into darkness, heat, moisture, and compression. A muffled
bass drumbeat was all around him, while bands of muscle gripped his
chest, then his ribcage, then his stomach as he was pushed further and
further within.  Occasionally, he was plucked into light and cool air
for a moment, his face mashed against that ever-more-engorged clitoris
at the apex, before he would be plunged further within. Now the mighty
bands compressed about his hips, causing thrills of unwelcome pleasure
in his rigid pego as the mighty hand manipulated him by his bound
ankles. As the giant's actions became more agitated, the dew that
bedecked her yielding chasm became more copious, less viscid. Deep
volcanic groans reached him as the grip upon his lower extremities
became palpably less secure. Finally, with a particularly potent
pulsation of her portal, he was sucked in and entirely enclosed.

Without, Corky could hear cries of dismay: "Oh! My dildoe! I have
quite lost it!" and the like, but now that he was no longer being
subjected to constant agitation, Corky found the environment in which
he found himself surprisingly congenial.  There was something
comfortable, soothing even, about this hot and narrow passage.  Were
it not for the anxious exclamations and the bouncing about of his
passageway, he might quite drift off to sleep in such a place.

He heard his captor's voice call out to him, thick with perverse
longing: "Oh little dildoe! Do come back out!  We were having such
fun, and I was so...so close!"

"Thank you Madam, but I prefer to remain where I am," he called back,
enunciating carefully through the enclosing layers of flesh.

"Oh, a recalcitrant fellow, eh?" came the booming answer.  "We'll soon
see about that!" He felt a tugging at his genitals as the ribbon that
enclosed them was seized from without, and then a terrible sharp jerk
pulled him into...

***

...light and cool air. He attempted to sit up and found that he was
bound to the bed in which he lay. He craned his neck. Maggie Dalrymple
straddled his legs in an unladylike fashion, though this lapse of
decorum was dwarfed by the one represented by her firm one-handed grip
on his penis and testes. He was naked; she appeared to the eye to be
fully clothed, though the feeling of warmth against his legs suggested
a dearth of undergarments.

"Good morning, Mr. Brandywine," she said. "I thought it would be nice
if you and I had a chat."

"You have me at rather a disadvantage, Corky confessed.

"Mother says power is neither so complex nor so simple as it seems,"
the girl mused, tuliping the fingers of her free hand around the
rubicund tip of Corky's yard. "I wonder what she meant by that...?"

"Well I suppose she--" Corky began, but the girl gave his tender
privates another distressing tug.

"But enough airy persiflage! To the matter at hand."

Corky's eyes moved involuntarily downward to where her two hands were
at work, one threatening pain, the other dealing out pleasure, like
the proverbial carrot and stick.

Maggie giggled. "You take me too literally, Mr. Brandywine. I mean the
matter of your feelings for my sister, Beatrice."

At the sound of that name, Corky twitched involuntarily. "What concern
is it of yours?" he demanded.

Maggie cocked her head prettily. "A very sensible question," she
said. "After all, she's terribly unkind to me, as well as being a
dreadful old stick-in-the-mud. But I got to thinking: with only Mother
and myself working on you, you'll probably get up your nerve to flee
in no more than a few weeks. With Beatrice's hold on you, though, I
can have you around to play with indefinitely!"

"Hold? Whatever do you mean?" Corky asked.

"You love her," Maggie said.

"I...I thought I did." Corky said after a long pause.

Maggie frowned slightly. Her gentle stroking of his penis stopped
abruptly, just as her other hand tightened a hairsbreadth.  "Now, you
see, Mr. Brandywine, that is just the sort of ill-thought-out
assertion that I am here to forestall. Such words might be very
hurtful to a young lady with tender feelings for you."

"Lady!" Corky scoffed. "Your so-called 'sister' is no--arr!"

For the first time, Maggie had tightened her grip sufficiently to
cause actual pain. Her expression turned stormy, but her voice was
cooler than ever.

"I believe that a Socratic dialogue is in order here. Do you find me
to be someone who values tact more highly, or truthfulness?"

Corky drew a deep breath. "Miss Dalrymple, I have seen nothing to
suggest that you have any particular fondness for either." He braced
himself for some violent and humiliating retribution for his harsh
words.

Maggie, however, grinned. "Excellent! Full marks. It would be to your
advantage to remain similarly forthright through the remainder of our
interview. Mr. Brandywine, do you consider me to be of particularly or
even ordinarily ladylike character?"

Corky glared at his tormentor. "No, I do not."

Maggie affected surprise. "I think you are ill-serving a sweet lass
who has given you a great deal of pleasure and valuable
instruction. But our concern here is not my views, but your own. So,
in your hard and uncharitable view, what ladylike qualities could I
possibly lack?"

Corky was not enjoying this game, but her continued grip on his gonads
was powerful incentive to play along.  "Modesty, humility,
comportment, civilized table-manners. Ability with some sort of
musical instrument is desirable, though not strictly necessary; and
most authorities agree that undergarments are a near-universal
attribute of every true lady. Need I go on?

Far from the chastened look Corky was hoping for or the towering rage
he feared, Maggie appeared to be trying to suppress a giggle. "And yet
my genitals are quite unambiguously female, would not you say?"

Recognizing now the trap that she had laid for him, Corky only glared
at her in silence.

Maggie batted her eyelashes. "Is your memory flagging, Mr, Brandywine?
I should be happy to reacquaint you with them..." she threatened,
releasing his stones and beginning to make herself busy with her
skirts.

"There is nothing wrong with your female parts," Corky conceded before
his rebellious pego could stir to life at the prospect of some more
face-sitting and humiliate him further.

"And yet you esteem me no lady," the girl astride him said, her hands
returning to his genitals, this time with a gentler touch. "Quick,
now, what name springs to mind when you consider who possesses the
qualities you set forth?" Corky pursed his lips e'en tighter.

"I believe you may have a person in mind," Maggie said after a moment,
"tho' you may be questioning your own judgment in that regard now.
You saw her in a distinctly unladylike attitude recently, doing some
beastly things to a sweet and innocent girl who deserves far better
treatment."

Corky snorted.

Maggie leaned forward, her hand still busy on Corky's thickening
cock. He could feel her hot breath on his cheek as she spoke: "But you
must realize that, between sisters who believe themselves to be in
private, standards of decorum are oftentimes relaxed. And though she
was awfully unfair to me, I have found it in my heart to forgive her."

Corky was once again silent.

"Or perhaps it wasn't her conduct that offended you so, but that that
pretty prick she has between her legs. Awfully rude, was'n't it,
arcing up like that to violate my poor mouth? Oh! you're terribly hard
of a sudden, Mr. Brandywine.  What were you imagining when mother
brought you off in the closet, you naughty man? Fucking my mouth or
taking Beatrice's prick in your own?"

Corky's hips were moving in little involuntary jerks by now, while the
head of his cock gleamed with a fat drop of lubrication. Noting the
fact, Maggie scooted down until her lips pouted a scant inch from his
bobbing rubicund tool. "Ooh! Mustn't waste any of that lovely fluid,"
she said, and his cockhead was engulfed in delicious warm wetness.

A moment later, her face was inches from his while her hand beat a
steady rhythm along his straining shaft."Oh, Mr. Brandywine," breathed
Maggie, "it is quite delicious to have you at my mercy like
this. Here." She slipped a hand beneath her skirts, and did something
that resulted in a deep exhalation and an intensification of the
already-noticible flush about her face and neck. The hand emerged
gleaming with fluid and she passed it beneath his nose, filling his
head with a sharp and heady scent. "See how ready you've made me?
Shall I fuck you now? I want to very much, you know."

"No!" Corky gasped, "Don't!"

She cocked her head inquisitively. "Whyever not? Don't try to tell me
I don't make you randy, 'cos I know for a fact that I do," and she
squeezed his prick so that he groaned aloud.

"It's not right!" he insisted.

"What's wrong with it?" she prodded patiently, like a school mistress
guiding her student through his sums.

"Your virtue," Corky said. "I wo'n't take advantage..." His voice
trailed off in the face of Maggie's giggling fit.

With effort, she suppressed her mirth enough to speak. "Think harder,
Mr. Brandywine," she insisted. "Why shouldn't I put this lovely cock
to use satisfying my poor swollen cunny?"

Corky desperately shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to figure
out what to say, His body arched upward against his bonds as he strove
to master the forces contending within him. "It would--"

When he realized what he was about to say, his face paled, his body
slumped to the bed. "It would pain Beatrice," he whispered, half to
himself.

At once Maggie released his penis and sprang off of the bed. "Very
good, William" she said warmly, and kissed him on the cheek. She
reached out and tugged at his bonds, which fell away readily, then
swept out of the room in a swirl of petticoats.

Corky remained spread-eagled, lost in thought while his erect penis
bobbed with his pulse.

***

An hour later, dressed and scrubbed, Corky stood at the door of
Beatrice's bedroom. His knuckles were aloft, poised several inches
from her doorframe. He stood thus for some minutes, unmoving.
Finally, he drew a deep breath, and rapped gently at her door.

A moment later Beatrice opened the door, red-eyed and sniffling. She
started in alarm at the sight of Corky. "Mr. Brandywine!" she
exclaimed. "I--I'm so sorry..." her voice trailed off, her eyes
welling with tears.

"Whatever for?" Corky said gently.

"For, for not being what...For not..." The girl's jaw worked silently
as she tried to gather her thoughts.

"You weren't terribly forthcoming with me, Beatrice," Corky said with
a small smile, "but I forgive you for that."

Beatrice shook her head in dismay.  "Do'n't say that, Mr. Brandywine,
" she pleaded. "You can't forgive me for being a monster, an
abomnimation."

"Abomination," Corky corrected her, " and I do'n't."

Beatrice nodded minutely. It was only what she expected.

"There's nothing to forgive. I love you as you are, not despite it."

Beatrice took a moment to absorb this intelligence, "Oh,
Mr. Brandywine, you are a great good man to have such compassion for
so wretched a creature as myself."

Corky sighed. "Beatrice, I love you as a man loves a woman, and I want
you to be mine."

Beatrice stood thunderstruck, her mouth and eyes wide with disbelief.
Corky stepped up to her, leaned down and kissed her tear-damp cheeks,
then her yielding mouth, which soon was heatedly returning his kisses.

They clung tightly to one another there in the doorway, Corky losing
himself in the yielding heat of her skin, her tantalizing spicy
scent. Then she drew back and, taking him by the hand, led him to her
bed where she sat and looked up at him expectantly.

Corky took her shoulder in his hand and she gasped at the force of his
grip. Eyes burning, he forcefully pushed her back into a recumbent
position and sprang atop her, pressing his weight down upon her as he
covered her face with burning kisses once more.  "Beatrice," he
murmured, "I've wanted you since I first saw you, and now I mean to
have you."

"I too, darling!" she replied. "I am yours!"

Corky proceeded to put his newfound knowledge of female undergarments
to use, and, in a few minutes, Beatrice was stripped to her linen
drawers, though a few buttons had fallen victim to his haste and
inexperience.

He pushed her down on the bed once more and they rolled together, his
hands roaming the hot skin of her bare back, her legs wrapped tightly
about his waist.  Corky edged lower on the bed and worried at the dark
little buds of her nipples, watching her face intently to learn which
caresses were most efficacious. Soon he had her squirming wildly
beneath him, hugging his head to her bosom and gasping at each gentle
nip.

He sat up between her widespread legs and she twined herself around
him, plucking at his cravat with one hand. "So many clothes," she
complained. "Wo'n't you undress for me, William?

"You've already had a good look at my parts," Corky reminded her,
bringing her knees together and putting his hands to the drawstring of
her drawers, which he began to untie. "Now I propose to catch up."

"Oh, William!" she cried, gripping his wrists desperately. "No!  I can
please you without you having to endure the sight of my.... I know I
can."

Corky drew breath and looked her hard in the eye. "I wish to get a
good look at your lovely cock, Beatrice. To hold it in my hand and
kiss it with my mouth. "

Betrice gasped at his words, and her soft little bosom heaved.

"Now," Corky continued, his demeanor hardening, " Do I need to pin you
down and rip your drawers off to achieve that goal?"

She averted her eyes and flushed, but a shy little smile flickered
across her mouth, and she said, "that might be agreeable at some
point...but tonight I sha'n't resist if it is truly what you desire."

"Raise your hips, darling," he urged her, and she arched up off the
bed, whereupon her drawers were tugged down and kicked off to lie in a
puddle at the foot of the bed.

Corky gazed in rapt fascination at the slender member bobbing before
his face, gently arcing upward towards his ladylove's soft
belly. Beneath, her plump little cods shyly nestled in her crinkled
little sac, the whole thing neatly framed by a little pad of glossy
dark hair. It was a moment before he noticed that Beatrice was
watching him intently, her brow furrowed as she bit anxiously at one
knuckle. He realized that she awaited his verdict with all the
dreadful anticipation of a prisoner in the dock at Assizes.

"You are exquisite, Beatrice," he murmured, and took her cock into his
hand, startled at her heat, the slender rigidity of her little wand. A
breathy moan passed from her as he tightened his grip. He could feel
her pulse pass through her cock as the rubicund head swelled before
his eyes and a drop of clear fluid appeared at its vertical
opening. His mouth was watering. "I'm going to suck your cock now,
Beatrice, " he announced.

"Oh my goodness, " she gasped, and the drop at the head of her cock
swelled and ran down onto his knuckles. Her hands gripped his head,
her fingernails scritching deliciously at his scalp. "you mustn't!
It's too wicked! Too--"

And she seemingly lost the power of speech as his mouth closed on the
swollen head and he commenced to suck. Her fingers tightened in his
hair as he ran his tongue down the underside of her sensitive
organ. He sucked in a trance of pleasure, his fingers wrapped around
the base of her tool, until she was bucking her slender hips against
his fist, letting out sharp little yelps with each spasm of her
body. With effort, she pulled his mouth off of her and gasped,
"Please, William, undress for me?"

Corky stood and began to pull off his garments. Beatrice watched from
the bed, slowly stroking her saliva-slick member as his form was
exposed. A tiny moan escaped her as he removed his drawers, exposing
his own erect cock. "I want you inside me when I spend," Beatrice
requested.

"Soixante neuf?" Corky said hesitantly. "I believe I can--"

"No, I..." Her voice dropped to an almost inaudible level. "I want you
to take my...bottom hole"

Corky felt a surge both of excitement and uncertainty at this
prospect. "I've heard mention of such things," he confessed, " but
I've little idea of how one goes about it."

She sprang on him, covering him with joyous kisses. "Oh, William,
darling," she cooed, "this shall be so lovely! I've longed to have
your delicious thick affair up my fundament!"

"You have?" Corky said, amazed. But she was already at the dresser,
rummaging through drawers

She withdrew a jar, which she handed to Corky before springing onto
the bed. "Smear some of that pomade onto your fingers," she urged
him. As he complied, she laid back and brought her slender thighs up
to her chest, wrapping her arms around them in an approximation of the
foetal position. Corky's eyes were drawn to the dark pucker thus
exposed at the base of her hips. "It's so small!" he exclaimed.

"That's why you're going to be stretching it for me, darling."
Beatrice explained. "Put your fingertip against it. Oh! That feels so
lovely. You've got me so excited, William--will you think me quite
awful if I frig myself?" She wrapped her hand around her cock-stand
and commenced to slowly stroke it.

Guided by instinct, Corky commenced to rotate his finger about the
little knot of muscle he had found, smearing the pomade into the soft
and wrinkled skin.  Beatrice had begun to rock her hips against his
hand, her little rim pulsing so that her anus nipped gently at the tip
of his finger.

Taking the hint, Corky pressed a bit more firmly, and his fingertip
sank inside her to the first knuckle. Beatrice gasped and
shuddered. "Oh! Slowly, William," she pleaded, her hand on her own
prick accelerating.

Nonetheless, the preponderance of the motion was Beatrice's, as she
arched her hips ever upwards, swallowing more and more of Corky's
digit between the trim cheeks of her bottom by minute
increments. Finally, his hand was pressed against the soft flesh of
her posterior, the snug ring about the base of his finger giving way
to yielding softness and intense heat within.

"Another," Beatrice pleaded, and Corky slowly withdrew his finger and
pressed two together against her slick passageway. She bit her lip and
whimpered as the little portal gave way, her brow furrowing in some
intersection of delight and distress as clear fluid ran from her cock
to make rivulets along her knuckles before beading on the pale skin of
her belly.

When his knuckles had once more found the cheeks of her bottom, and
she had rotated against him for some minutes, she caught his gaze with
her great dark eyes and entreated him, "Oh, William--make haste now
and take me--I'm longing to feel your lovely cock splitting me open!"

When Corky had positioned himself on the bed, Beatrice rested her
ankles on his shoulders and scooped pomade out of the jar, then
smeared it generously over his rigid prick, which she pressed downward
until its head nudged against her tender iris. She met his gaze and
nodded slightly, her arms twining about his neck. Her breathing became
shallow and rapid as the pressure of Corky's tool against her
bottom-hole increased until the gates were breached and the head
surged through her portal. She let out a wail, her fingernails digging
painfully into the flesh of his back "Oh! Hold there, William," she
insisted, and pulled his face down to cover it with burning kisses.

"Now f-f-fuck me," she whispered into his ear, her voice catching on
the forbidden word. "Very slowly."

Corky began to rock his hips with minute motions, his attention
divided between the volcanic heat that engulfed more and more of his
cock, and the acute examination of his love's face as he monitored her
responses. Pressing on at her moans and pausing at her occasional
winces, he soon found himself buried to the hilt in Beatrice's
bottom. The fierce grip of her sphincter surrounded the base of his
prick, rhyming somehow with the fierce grip of her arms about his
neck. He could feel her cock throbbing against his belly as he rested
inside her.

Now her hands found his hips and urged him to begin thrusting inside
her bottom, first very gently, then harder until his thighs were
striking the cheeks of her bottom with an audible smack. Her mouth
fell open, her brow furrowed. Soft cries issued from her mouth with
each stroke inside her sensitive bottom hole. A puddle of slickness
spread across their bellies as her cock oozed fluid from its tip.

Corky propped himself up on his arms for better leverage, and Beatrice
took her cock in her hand and stroked it rapidly, her moans becoming
longer, her motions more frantic. Corky's cries joined hers as they
neared a mutual crisis. "Are you going to spend in me?" Beatrice
whispered urgently. "Are you going to fill my bottom with your
precious fluid?"

"Yes!" Corky gasped. "I'm going to--" and a thought struck him. With a
Herculean effort of will, he ceased his thrusting, nestling deep
inside her while his prick clamored for further friction. Beatrice
looked quizzically at him, pausing her own stroking as well.

"Beatrice," Corky said. "When we spend, your mother is going to burst
into the room, is'n't she?"

Beatrice pondered this question for a moment while she caught her
breath. "It would be like her," she conceded, looking downcast. "Oh
bother! What are we to do?"

Corky stroked her cheek reassuringly. "I confess I do'n't know," he
said, "but between the two of us, I'm certain we shall think of
something."

And he began to move his hips once more, soon reaching the short digs
that marked the onset of his climax. Beneath him, Beatrice was
flushed, her face shining with her exertions.  As the head of her
prick swelled and darkened, her bottom pulsed, tightening on the base
of his his cock to an almost painful degree. Excited beyond endurance,
Corky groaned and released his own tribute within his paramour's
bowels, Her own climax imminent, Beatrice paused for a moment in her
stroking to savor the sight.

Behind Corky the door slammed open. Beatrice's eyes met his, and
gleamed with secret mischief.

END Chapter 7


Feedback is always eagerly solicited.
vinnie@vinnietesla.com | http://vinnietesla.com | @vinnietesla
prequel "The Erotofluidic Age" now for sale: http://www.circlet.com/?p=2880

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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