“I must have you,” he muttered, undressing quickly as she glanced sideways at him. As he stripped, she marvelled once again at the size of his cock, the way it jutted towards her as he climbed onto the bed and lay over her, pushing himself between her legs, his lips brushing over the back of her neck.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered into her ear as he thrust slowly into her, the weight of his body pushing the plug deeper into her at the same moment. “I will never get used to it.”
“I’m still getting used to the size of you,” she replied, groaning as he thrust all the way inside her. “I can hardly take it.”
“You take it all,” he said, pulling back and then thrusting again, grinding against her as she gripped him in place, never wanting him to leave her.
The motion of his body against hers made her want to turn over and wrap herself around him but the bonds held her too tightly in place. She tugged at her restraints as his movements inside her grew faster, heat building up in her body as he began to pant into her ear. “Oh fuck,” he muttered, “that’s so good.”
“Fuck me, Papa,” she replied, the dummy falling from her mouth. “I want to feel it inside me. Come in me, fuck me, harder, oh, fuck.”
Her body began to tense up as he slammed into her, each thrust pushing the plug deeper. She felt him twitch in her and knew he was close. Pushing her hips back against him, she gave him room to go deeper still, completely filling her as her clit throbbed with desire. The motion of him alone was enough to bring her to the brink and when his lips brushed her neck again, he buried himself in her and she came, an orgasm that took over her entire body, causing it to shake uncontrollably on the bed, her mouth open but no words coming out.
He thrust again and it was enough to make her climax stronger still. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered, slamming into her a final time, his cock twitching, hot cum spurting from him and filling her up as he collapsed against her, breathing heavily, his body falling still, his cock still buried inside her.
“Did I do well, Papa?” she asked. “Letting you come inside me? Am I a good girl?”
“You are,” he replied, kissing her ear as he slid slowly from her. “You are a good little girl.”
BONUS STORY TWO
LAURA
Chapter 1
“Father, I need a new horse.”
Laura was sitting alone in her bedroom, looking at herself in the dressing table mirror. Too angry a tone of voice, she thought, too strident. He would only grumble and shake his head. It was important to get the tone and facial expression just right. Even her father might blanche at the idea of two new horses in as many weeks.
“Father, I need a new horse.” That was better. Eyes wider, more innocent. Lip downturned, full of sorrow and regret that she was having to ask so soon after the last one had arrived. Perhaps making her lip tremble might clinch it.
“Father, I need a new horse.” Perfect. Time to try it out for real.
Ever since she was old enough to talk, Laura had been used to getting her own way. One of her earliest memories was seeing the guilt in his eyes when she had unwrapped her Christmas presents and promptly began screaming so loudly it made her eyes water.
“Where’s my pony?” she’d demanded between screams. “Where’s my pony?”
“Your mother thinks you’re a little too young,” Lord Wallace Rothsfield replied, tugging at his shirt collar as if it had grown suddenly tighter.
“Do not act as if this were my decision,” Lady Rothsfield replied before turning to Laura. “Your father thinks four year olds should not ride ponies. It could be dangerous.”
“Where’s my pony? I told Father Christmas to bring me a pony. You promised me he would. Where’s my pony?” She stamped her feet and sobbed her heart out, tugging at her hair until it came out in clumps.
They gave in of course, providing their daughter with a beautiful chestnut brown pony by the name of Winifred. She rode it twice.
From that experience young Laura learned two things. One, if you shouted and screamed for long enough, you would get whatever you wanted. Two, her parents would do anything to please her. She used that knowledge to her advantage throughout her childhood, ensuring that whatever desire or whim struck her, it would be met by her doting parents no matter what the cost.
Things continued in this fashion until she turned sixteen. Shortly after her birthday, her mother fell ill. Lady Rothsfield spent the last of her days in her sickbed listening to Laura complain about how unfair life was to her. “You’re only sick. I am traumatised. I shall soon have no mother and then where will I be?”