Lara on Holiday

A slight noise woke Lara from a fitful sleep. She had spent the night tossing and turning as the events of the previous evening kept invading her dreams. She couldn't believe she had been treated so badly by her hostess, Lady MacDonald, and by the other guests. She was sure they had plied her with whisky knowing exactly what they were going to do to her. She shuddered at the memory of being stripped by these women, of cumming on another woman's tongue, of the amazingly horrible sensations of the maids sucking on her nipples, of Lady MacDonald fucking her with her huge strap-on and, worst of all, of finally being forced to lick another's woman's pussy for the very first time and being unable to stop this older woman cumming in her mouth.

Even though her orgasms last night had been bigger, more intense than anything she had ever experienced before, she could feel the shame of her actions burning in her very soul and she knew she would never be able to confess to her husband or to the saintly priest she visited every week. She was not the kind of woman who behaved like this and she consoled herself with the fact that she would never have done any of it if she hadn't been more than a little drunk and if she hadn't been forced to do what she did.

She raised her aching head, the after effects of the whisky still pounding in her skull, wondering what had woken her. It was then she noticed the large envelope lying just inside the door. She slipped out of bed, unwilling to disturb her sleeping husband, and walked slowly to the door. She opened it silently to see if there was anyone there but the long, dark corridor was empty. Closing the door behind her, she bent to pick up the envelope, suddenly remembering that her knickers had been stolen last night and she had slipped into bed without replacing them. Her short nightdress crept up the back of her thighs and she blushed as she became aware of her nakedness underneath.

Turning over the envelope, she read the words written upon its front but they didn't make any sense to her. "Unless you want your husband to see these and the others I have, be in my study in ten minutes." There was no name, no signature but all Lara could think was she only knew of the one study in this old castle, the ornate room where she had first met her host and his wife, the unscrupulous Lady MacDonald. With trembling hands she opened the envelope and peered inside. There seemed to be two large photographs contained within and she hesitantly withdrew them.

At that moment Lara's life changed as she looked down on a very explicit photo of her licking Mrs Wallace's hairy pussy. It was a very good close up which allowed no misunderstanding that it was showing this poor Spanish woman with her tongue deep inside another woman's cunt. Lara nearly collapsed to the floor as her heart missed a beat and she struggled to breathe. How could this be happening to her? What had she done to deserve this? She was a good woman, a good wife. Why were they doing this to her?

All she could think now was she had to retrace her steps from last night, find the study and find out who was blackmailing her. She very quickly and very quietly opened her case, pulled on a pair of her usual skimpy knickers, a pair of jeans and replaced her nightie with a white T-shirt. Slipping her feet into the first pair of shoes she could find, she opened the door once more and made her way out into the corridor, praying that she would be back before her husband awoke.

Practically running down the stairs then along yet another wood panelled corridor, she threw open the door to the study and was faced by the laird, sitting at his desk, evidently very busy as he studied something on his desk. Looking up at her unannounced arrival, he smiled kindly to her and motioned for her to come closer.

"Come in, dear; I have something to show you."

Not willing to believe that this seemingly kindly man of about fifty could be responsible for the photographs, she edged forward, looking around the room nervously. The room was as richly furnished as the rest of the castle but it was quite clear that they were alone. She looked back to her host but then nearly cried out in alarm. What he was studying so intently was even more photographs of her depraved behaviour from the night before. Spread out before him were lurid photos of Mrs Simpson licking her pussy, of the maids sucking her tits, of Lady MacDonald, his own wife, fucking her and herself with the double ended strap-on. Lara thought she was going to faint before the laird rushed round from his desk and eased her into a high backed chair.

"You do take a wonderful photo, my dear, and I can't wait to show you the video. My wife is just completing the final editing then it will be ready to show your husband."

Lara couldn't believe this was happening to her. Each of the photos had been framed in such a way that it looked like she was enjoying every minute of what had happened after dinner last night. It was obvious in more than one that she was cumming, her head thrown back, her dark hair wild in the throes of passion and her eyes glazed with lust. All she could think was, "There's a video?"

The laird had returned to his seat and was smiling back at her across his huge oak desk. Seeming to forget she was there for a minute, he foraged among the pile of photographs and then produced the one he had been looking for.

"This is my favourite. Do you like it?"

Lara could barely force herself to look at the photo but she knew instantly what was on it. It had obviously been taken from behind her head and showed Mrs Wallace cumming on her face, Lady MacDonald cumming as she fucked her guest and Lara cumming as she was fucked liked she had never been fucked before. Tears started to brim in her eyes as she realised she was at the mercy of this evil, smiling man.

"Oh, don't cry, my dear. There's no need for tears. Here take my handkerchief. Wipe those beautiful eyes. We can sort this out. Don't worry."

For the first time that morning Lara dared to hope that there might be a way out of this nightmare, that maybe her husband would never find out about last night's events and that she could return home, never to visit this accursed country ever again.

"There that's better. Now let me explain. It is quite obvious that you had a wonderful time last night, no, don't interrupt, dear. All you need to do is entertain myself and my friends as well as you entertained my wife and her guests and we can destroy these photos, and the video, and no-one need ever know. What do you say?"

Lara didn't know what to say. She wanted to scream at this man and tell him she would never agree to do what he wanted but knew she couldn't. She wanted to tell her husband all about the abuse she had suffered but knew she couldn't. She wanted to run from this room, this castle, this country and never return but knew she couldn't. Instead, she pleaded.

"Please, sir, I'm not the kind of woman who does these things. Your wife forced me last night. She raped me! Please, sir. Let me go. Please don't tell my husband."

"Now, now, my dear; you don't need to get so upset. I promise you, everything you do this afternoon will please you more than you have ever known. My friends and I will take very special care of you. Or do you really want me to show your husband these photos? My wife was thinking about posting your video on the net; would you like that?"

Lara knew she was trapped. She knew she could never let her husband see the photos. She knew she could never allow the video to be posted for anyone to see. She knew she had to do exactly what this evil, smiling man wanted. She tried to stifle a sob, hung her head and whispered, "I'll do what you want."

"Lovely, my dear; now, it's just you and me here for the moment so why don't we start slowly and have you take off your T-shirt?"

She stood there, her head lowered, wondering how she had ever got into this position, wondering how she would ever get out of it. Realising she was about to be topless in front of a man who was neither her husband nor her doctor for the first time ever, she took a deep breath and lifted her white cotton top over head. She instantly regretted not taking the time to put on a bra before she rushed from the bedroom but the laird was overjoyed at the sight of the beautiful Spanish woman's incredible breasts. He knew his cock was already rock hard within his trousers but he forced himself to prolong this wonderful experience and to prolong Lara's humiliation.

She had dropped her T-shirt to the floor and stood there, her arms by her side, knowing it was pointless trying to cover her naked breasts. She realised that she was going to be forced to strip off all her clothes and tried to tell herself that the sooner she did as she was told, the sooner she would be released.

"Take off your jeans, dear. I can't wait to see your knickers."

Lara blushed as she knew she was wearing the skimpiest white thong she possessed but, even worse than that, she knew that the small piece of cloth covering her pussy was already becoming moist as her cunt responded yet again to her latest shame. She opened the button on her waistband and lowered the zip. As she wiggled her hips to slide her denims down, her breasts wobbled and the laird sat back, drinking in every moment. He knew the room wasn't cold so it wasn't the temperature that was making her nipples stand out and he was sure he could see the hint of a damp spot in her crotch.

Stepping out of her jeans, Lara straightened up and dared to look at the man smiling from behind his desk.

"Your knickers, please, my dear; let me have them."

Her face burned red once more as she slowly, reluctantly, took her tiny knickers by the hand and lowered them down her slender legs. Inch by inch, she lowered them until the thin strip of pubic hair above her pussy was completely visible. When she could no longer reach without bending over she stooped down and swiftly removed them completely before standing up. As she straightened up again she saw the laird was holding out his hand. Her tears nearly fell from her eyes as she walked over to the desk and dropped her gift into his outstretched hand. Stepping back at his signal, he looked her in the eye before allowing his hungry gaze to travel down to her wonderful breasts and then, even further down, to her pussy.

Twirling his fingers, the poor woman did as she was told, turning slowly round, feeling his eyes on every inch of her. She was amazed but no longer surprised to feel her pussy tingle with excitement and her nipples stiffen. By the time she had turned back round to face him, the laird had raised her white thong, turned it inside out and was sniffing her arousal that was all too obvious on the tiny garment. Looking up, staring straight into her tear-filled eyes once more, his mouth opened and he ran his tongue up and down the piece of cloth that moments before had been pressed against her moist slit. She suffered in her shame once more but she knew worse was to follow.

"Lovely, my dear; absolutely lovely. You look beautiful and taste even better. Now come closer so I can get an even better look."

Lara knew he was paying her a compliment but standing naked in this stranger's study it was hard to be pleased about it. She walked around his desk and, as he pushed his chair back, she stood facing her, her bottom cheeks pressing against the hard wood of the desk.

"Very good, my dear; now lie down on the desk."

Lara lay across the explicit photos of last night's events and tried to preserve some modesty by keeping her knees together, her legs tightly closed.

"Open your legs, my dear."

Lara felt her face blush red as she stared at the ceiling but she also felt her pussy begin to moisten again and she cursed her body for being so responsive. She tried to force herself to relax but how could she? How could she lie in front of a stranger and open her legs before him, his face only inches from her? How could she allow him to see the arousal that would be all too evident on her pussy lips? She was a good woman; she didn't do these things. Why was he forcing her?

He saw the struggle taking place within his younger guest and decided to help. He stood up and, towering above her, smiled benignly before placing his hands between her knees. Slowing but surely he eased the poor woman's knees apart and Lara could no longer hold back the tears as her wet pussy was exposed to this aristocratic gentleman.

Her pussy was smooth, shaven, with just a small strip of hair above her lips. The laird thought it was the most beautiful cunt he had seen in a long time and certainly one of the wettest. Slowly and gently he pushed her legs wider apart, exposing her full beauty to his hungry eyes. She could feel the power of his gaze and blushed fiercely, knowing her lips were leaking even more with each minute that passed. As he passed her legs to her for the poor woman to hold herself open, he sat back down and savoured the sight of not only her gorgeous pussy but her tight arsehole too.

She knew what was coming next but still jumped when she felt his finger touch her wet slit, sliding it up and down, smearing her with her own juices. She shuddered in embarrassment and shuddered at the delicate touch of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Teasing her, he ran his finger up and down the outside of her lips, making her squirm, and he hadn't even touched her clit yet. The laird was desperate to touch her with more than just a finger but, again he reminded himself, this would be so much better if he prolonged her seduction.

Trying hard to control herself, Lara gasped when she felt the laird's finger slide deep inside her at the very moment he bent down and touched her throbbing clit with his tongue. She knew where this was taking her and wept at the loss of control but she could do nothing to stop him and nothing to stop her body either.

The laird smiled inwardly to himself as he heard the first of his new lover's reluctant moans of pleasure escaping her lips. Still driving his finger in and out of her dripping pussy, he reached up with his other hand and began to play with each of her nipples in turn. They were as hard as pebbles and he rejoiced in being able to take hold of them and pulling them forcefully.

Lara squealed as every sensitive part of her body was tormented. It seemed as if she was being attacked by a gang of men instead of just one. She trembled as his hot breath teased her pussy beyond endurance and the laird squeezed another finger deeper inside her. She had never been subjected to such an expert tongue and her pleasure was matched only by her shame.

Her orgasm hit her and washed over her like an ocean wave, over and over again as the laird's tongue lashed her swollen clit. Her whole body shook fiercely as she dropped her legs and instinctively trapped him between her quivering thighs. She screamed so loudly she was sure she must waken the rest of the castle but she was no longer in control and could not have stopped any of this unwelcome pleasure.

As she slowly recovered and realised that everything had gone quiet because her own mouth was now closed, she relaxed her legs and the laird lifted his juice soaked face, looking her straight in the eye as his peerless tongue licked her copious juices form his lips.

"That was lovely, my dear; you taste absolutely delicious. Now didn't I promise you would enjoy yourself? That was quite a performance you put on."

Once more Lara knew he was paying her some sort of compliment but all she could think was that she was lying naked in front of a virtual stranger and she had just cum all over his face. Her shame knew no bounds and her tears began to flow once more.

"No, no, my dear, you musn't cry. Here, let me help you up."

He took her gently by the hand and raised her to an upright position but Lara was immediately aware once more that she was still sitting, naked, on a desktop covered with photos of her in various compromising positions, her pussy continuing to leak on to them. Her only advantage now was that she could close her legs and jump down from the desk but, as she did so, she was horrified to see the bulge stretching the front of the laird's tartan trews. Her host followed her gaze and smiled kindly at her alarm.

"I suppose it's my turn now. Would you mind, my dear?"

With that he gently but firmly took hold of her by the shoulders and pressed her down to the richly carpeted floor. Lara knew what she had to do, knew she had no choice, knew she could not allow her husband to see those juice-soaked photos, but still she looked imploringly as she began to open his trousers. Beseeching him in vain, she continued to look up at him as she reached for the top of his trousers. She struggled with the button on the waistband and found to her surprise there was no zip, only more buttons instead.

Hoping against hope that he would take pity on her, she stopped when the laird's thick trousers slid to the floor but, when she saw the size of the bulge in his boxers, she knew there was to be no escape. Taking a deep breath, she lifted them up and over the head of his stiff cock, desperate to look anywhere but straight at the erection in front of her eyes. So close to it, it looked huge and Lara shivered in fear and anticipation. The laird looked down kindly at the frightened woman and gently took a hold of her thick, dark hair, pulling her mouth inexorably closer to his cock.

"I'm sure you know what to do, my dear. I made you cum now you can do the same for me."

If she had been anywhere else, Lara would have been delighted to suck her tormentor's fat cock but here, on her knees in front of him, his cock throbbing inches from her mouth, she was filled with disgust as her pussy began to leak again.

He took a firmer grip of her hair and pulled her head even closer. She had no choice but to open her mouth and to allow his cock entry. She knew that all she could do was hopefully finish him off quickly and hope that this would be enough. She loved sucking her husband's cock but this was different, this was humiliating, this was more exciting than anything that had happened to her so far.

His hips thrust forward, his hard cock sliding into her mouth, forcing her to deal with his invasion. Using his hold on her hair as a grip, he moved her unwilling mouth back and forth along his eager dick. Instinctively she sucked, he was giving her no other option, but still she looked up, pleading with her eyes. All he saw was the beauty's dark eyes, her lips stretched around him, his cock sliding deeper and deeper into her warm mouth.

Placing both hands now on the back of her head, he took total control of her movements. Gripping her tightly, he pushed ever deeper, ever faster, smiling when he touched the back of her throat and felt her gag. She knew how to do this but she didn't want to. His cock, though, was too insistent; his threat too real. She forced herself to swallow, forced herself to accept what was going to happen, forced herself to allow him down her tight throat.

She hated everything about this. She hated being naked in front of him; she hated being on her knees in such a submissive position; she hated being forced to suck his cock; she hated feeling his coarse hair rub against her nose and his heavy balls slap against her chin. And she hated the fact that her pussy was leaking even more.

Even though she had sucked her husband's cock many times, even though he had cum before in her mouth and over her face, even though she had learned to swallow his spunk and drink it down, she still felt herself gagging when the first shot of the laird's spunk filled her mouth. She swallowed involuntarily, reluctantly, but she swallowed and her tormentor looked down at her, smiling, pleased that she was such an excellent cock-sucker.