Highly Successful Life Coach Abused

Author's Comments: All characters in this story are at least 18 years old and this is a work of fiction. The short submissions, form part of one mans journey in support of another and documented for his and your pleasure. I do digress on occasion as it is in development; all errors are mine. Suggestions and comments welcomed. I'm reminded these are sex stories, so please enjoy

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Highly successful life coach 2

Margaret had pulled on the skirt and tweed jacket, pulling it tightly around her, and having bundled up the shredded blouse and removed the torn nylons, she had one last search for her panties, but to no avail. She knew he had taken them along with the incriminating file.

The folder had detailed everything, having only had a few stolen moments to glance through the detail; it was clearly comprehensive and had listed the client indiscretions and payments.

It didn't help her situation that she had genuinely regretted selling the stories to the gutter press over the last decade and reflected that she had been given little choice in the matter.

A part of her was suddenly slightly relieved it was all over. It had even listed the accounts used and the fund balance of £1.2m, which she had never even touched; such was her disgust and disappointment in her own behaviour.

As she made her way to the matrimonial bedroom, Margaret had made the decision that his had to end now, and she would willingly accept the consequences, close the clinic of course and try and save the shred of integrity that remained. It broke her heart that so many she had helped and continued to support, would struggle with the news and their own future wellbeing.

Margaret stepped into the shower, her husband was thankfully not due back until the Sunday evening, so she had the weekend to try and resolve this terrible situation. She dismissed the thought that he may already have shared the data with her friends and clients. As she stood under the hot shower spray, she sensed that this gentleman had other plans for her and that perhaps she had even deserved to be treated so brutally.

As the water hit her swollen breasts her nipples tingled as she remembered how his fingers had squeezed her nipple, controlling her movement and she could not resist, pinching and holding her own nipple; her eyes closed as she remembered the feeling of utter shock and despair. He had cut her clothing from her shoulders and cut off her bra. The memory and sensation of her large breasts spilling free had just sent a shiver through her body and straight to her cunt. She thought back to the shock at seeing her bra fall to the floor and being led over to her desk, like one of her thoroughbred mares.

Margaret was still holding her nipple under the powerful hot shower as her right hand moved down between her legs and her slim fingers slipped easily between her swollen cunt lips and for the first time in a very long time indeed, Margaret brazenly fingered herself.

She thought back to earlier, and that animal of a man taking her so brutally, using her and punished for her for her past behaviour. She remembered that he had smacked her backside, and wished now that he had made her cry out in pain. Had she imagined it or had he actually said to her that it was a lovely backside? Margaret, was lost in her thoughts and sexual pleasure, she felt strangely alive and very, very sexy.

Instead of feeling fear and upset, Margaret felt as if that brute of a man had lifted the dark cloud of deceit that had been hanging over her all these years. She felt liberated; having just been fucked senseless over her own desk, and brought to orgasm by a cock for the first time in probably a decade or more.

Margaret came once again in the shower, remembering now that she had groaned out loud, spread across her own desk and had begged him to come inside her.

Paul had messaged Brains and explained the unexpected turn of events. These were early days in their grand plan but Margaret Morrish ii3 was a multi million pound opportunity. He had been expected to take her picture, exposing her lovely tits, make her watch him wank himself off his, show her his big cock and come over her. Then take another compromising picture, leaving her to reflect and stew.

Brains had not been critical in any way, despite Paul having used a sharp blade to cut away her clothing and fuck her hard and firmly over her desk. His hardness twitched at the thought and he had to admit, her smell was so very intoxicating.

A new scripted plan had arrived and Paul had asked his driver to pull over as he read through the material. Brains wanted him to go back. He wanted the investment plan to be left with her over the weekend, rather than allow her to stew in fear and anxious anticipation.

Paul didn't question Brains on matters of the heart and understanding women, which was his absolute area of expertise as he told his driver to turn around, head back and take him to the Morrish Estate.

Paul had decided to walk around the property, knowing her husband was away and the children were both now living in London. According to the file it was a breathtaking 17th Century manor house set in 18.7 acres of stunning gardens and grounds and as he turned the corner, he came across a terraced area and stables in the distance.

Such a large place to be staying on your own in the middle of nowhere he thought, and enjoying the walk; the fresh air and views but thinking that he had so enjoyed fucking her over the desk earlier that afternoon.

That thought alone had him hardening once again as he walked, he could feel himself thicken and he found himself thanking Mrs. Margaret Morrish, for the most stimulating of counselling sessions.

It was at that moment he had seen her leave one of the stables, heading away from him. She had changed, and by the look of it, getting ready to ride. He was very, very impressed, and could only nod his head in utter admiration for this lady. Having just exposed her as a very naughty life coach and psychotherapeutic counsellor to the rich and famous, and then fucked her over a desk, she was now out here looking after her horses.

Not a care in the world. He was starting to enjoy this aspect of their investment consultancy. He followed her through the stables, a few youngsters were brushing down an incredible looking horse, and one had asked if they could help. He explained that he had documents for Mrs. Morrish and he was directed towards the track, where she was enjoying a couple of circuits of gallop training and he was pointed in the right direction.

Margaret loved these evenings, savouring the feel of the new and very expensive gallop track surface, exactly replicating turf at its best. She felt care free and alive, having enjoyed more orgasms this afternoon than quite possibly, the entire year.

And yet the terrible sense of dread had resurfaced, the very same feelings she often experienced when she had been so stupid, stupid, and so stupid in sharing the information on her clients.

She had such hopes, for the future, the rider training and disability school and the plans to expand her clinic to provide free help and support for the disadvantaged, rather than the famous. Rounding the corner, anxious now, the reality of her situation sinking in, she saw him standing against the railing, watching her approach.

Margaret was shocked to see him back so soon and also a little relieved; she really wanted this to be over now and this impressive young man was in for a rather rude surprise. Margaret was ready to face the music and the full consequences of her actions.

Pulling up alongside the railing, she suggested he wait in her study, and she would be with him shortly, before adding as she trotted away towards the stables, "I'm quite sure you can remember the way." Paul could only admire her strength, grace and elegant bearing. She was an impressive woman and looking very lovely even in the tight brown jodhpurs, riding boots and an old thick jumper. Paul headed off towards the house.

Margaret dismounted, gave instructions and wished them a lovely evening at the local village pub, declining the offer to join them, explaining that she had paperwork to review and sign for the new riding school operation. One of the younger girls, made a rather crude comment about her uninvited guest and 'riding school,' the girls all laughing wildly as she made her way to the study, feeling strangely calm and not prepared to give into any more threats.

Paul sat in her chair, sipping a soda water and waiting for Margaret to arrive. He had read through the new script, and by his own admission, Paul had not understood the strategy but as he had torn up the earlier plan into little pieces by fucking Margaret earlier, he acceded without argument.

Margaret made her way through to the study, she was feeling less confident now and albeit apprehensive, determined to defend her position, reminded that attack was the best for of defence. As she turned the door handle and pushed open the heavy door to her office and her sanctuary, she could only hold her breath and fight the growing fear as she now stepped into the office.

Paul was seated in her chair, reading through the file, pulling out documents with the little sticky labels sticking out from the pages, normally denoting where a signature was required.

All the fight left her body in those few seconds, the sudden realisation she could lose everything and destroy all the amazing plans she and her friends had for the future.

She stood before him, trying desperately, not to bite down on her lips, something she did when she was nervous. Resisting every single temptation to comment, understanding now that he had returned for a good reason.

He looked up at her and looked her all over like a feral animal. Margaret completely unaware just how impressed he was with her composure. "Remove the jumper Margaret" was all he said as he went back to studying the documents. Margaret, relented without any tantrum, resigned to the further humiliation.

The thick jumper dropped to the floor and his eyes lifted, "you are a very talented and very beautiful woman Margaret, now the vest top or would you prefer I did that for you?" She pulled off the top, throwing it on the floor of her office.

Standing in her bra, her cleavage was perfect and Paul wanted her nipples in his mouth. He stood, walked towards her and walking around her, he smelled her skin, and said, "You have showered already Margaret, thank you."

He proceeded to kiss and lick and run his tongue over her shoulders and her back before, reaching across her chest and slipping both his hands under her bra cups and gripping her large, smooth and heavy tits. He squeezed both nipples, bit down on her earlobes, her breathing becoming heavier, her body was naturally responding to this sudden and welcome stimulation.

He was pressing into her once again, rubbing his hardening cock against her arse cheeks. She made no petulant remark, her mind focused only on the wetness she was feeling and the realisation that she was pressing back into him.

His breathing was heavy and he was gripping her tits now, she had never, ever been treated in this way. His right hand slipped out of her bra, roughly tugging her breast clear, the shoulder strap dropping down her arm, and he sucked, licked and bit hard into her exposed shoulder.

He was an animal; a brute and she wanted him to mount her once again. Margaret was strangely reminded again of her thoroughbreds, the live covers she had witnessed on so many occasions or her breeding stallion, hard and erect, mounting the dummy and ejaculating into the artificial vagina.

Margaret moved free of his hands, fell to her knees on the office floor, kneeling now on all fours, she waited in readiness for this human stallion to mount her. Like her favourite animals, there is minimal interaction with the mare before mounting.

Paul dropped his trousers, taking a grip of her tight and elasticated jodhpurs, he tugged them down roughly and without any sensitivities, pulling them down her fine, muscled thighs and down around her strong calves. Margaret wore no panties, her pubic hair was wet, her inner thighs were already wet and Paul gripped his shaft, forcibly rubbing his cock back and forth, over her swollen, hanging lips.

His shaft and the bulbous head of his cock, glistening with her juices and as he gripped her waist, Margaret slumped forward, her face down onto her flattened elbows, opening herself up to him.

Paul was now bone hard, stiff and so firm having already fucked her earlier. He held his cock between her lips, moved and played with her, just tiny movements, before plunging his cock so deep into her tight, hot cunt for a second time that afternoon.

He moved steadily, deep into her, holding himself deep inside her, forcing himself in even deeper. He loved her sharp retorts, sharp noises and guttural grunts as he fucked her harder and harder on the floor.

Margaret, had never been filled like this, her husband never lasted like this, her insides had never been so stretched and the feeling of soaking wetness, the sensation of dripping down her thighs and the sloppiness and noises made by his thrusts had her tightening every muscle in her body and when the orgasm came, she had cried out in utter pleasure for the first time in her life.

She had come over his cock for a second time. He held himself inside her, waiting for her to stop twitching and shaking. He withdrew, slowly and precisely, the cock popping out of her soaked cunt.

Margaret lay on the floor, her bottom and cunt still exposed. She sat up and for the second time that afternoon, he was sitting in the leather chair, with his hard, thick cock pointing up into the air. She knew without instruction, what was expected of her?

Margret crawled over to him; she had never crawled for any man. Moving between his open legs, his right hand extended to grip her hair as his left hand gripped his shaft and as she opened her mouth.

Paul pushed his cock into her mouth and proceeded to fuck her, gripping her tightly in his lap, not wanting to hurt her, but at this angle he could feel her mouth and tongue, he moved his hips and fucked her mouth, slowly in small movements and came in her mouth.

"We would like to invite you to invest in our Internet technology Margaret. The proposal is there for your accountant to review and approve." Margaret had swallowed his ejaculate and juices and sat on the floor completely stunned. "And in the weeks ahead, I will personally determine suitable recompense for your misdemeanours and be assured Margaret, the Fleet Street journalist that took advantage of you, will never, ever present a problem in the future."

Paul departed the room.