A Spot Of Trouble

This story contains themes of futanari on male, futanari on futanari, and incest. Also, silliness. Lady Priscella has recently reached her majority at 19, and the other characters are older.

As soon as she was distracted by the truffles, I slipped away from my Aunt Claire and into the reading room. I thoroughly enjoy parties, of course, but my chaperone can make

anything

boring. It's truly a gift. I left her nattering away with some old biddy about whether or not jellies or jams were ideal on the latest culinary confection. I closed the door behind me - my Aunt would soon be on the warpath to search me out, and I hoped she would bypass this room if it was not obvious. But then a sound behind me made me turn, and I muffled a gasp.

He was a military man, and he had turned his head when I entered. I quickly checked my memory, and ah - yes, we had been introduced. Captain William Weatherstone was not nobility, but one must expect some degree of the lower classes at events like this, and he was said to be very competent. I suspected, however, that the way he filled out his uniform had more to do with his invitation than his abilities. He was very handsome, with broad muscular shoulders, a trim waist and a truly magnificent mustache. And his uniform

was

exquisitely tailored.

But of course, I was forgetting myself! I blushed fiercely - imagine walking in on a man and simply staring! It would not do. I gave my best curtsy. "My apologies, Captain. Pray forgive me, but I did not expect to find anyone else here." And really, it was passing strange to find a military man here, of all places. I would have expected him to frequent the smoking room, rather than look through books.

He smiled back at me, and gave a competent, if rough, bow. "My Lady. I entirely failed to notice anything other than your beauty, so no apologies are necessary."

This made me blush even more fiercely - and well, really! The man must have been close to twice my age, and it was quite improper of him to say such things without anyone else present. But, well, he really is very handsome, and I could enjoy the complement, couldn't I? I decided to forge ahead. "Well, you have my thanks regardless. May I ask what you're doing here, among all these stuffy books?" I looked around with a bit of disdain - books are all well and good I suppose, but I can't imagine just sitting and

reading

them.

He gave me another smile, and I noticed with fascination that it made his mustache quiver. "Of course. You are..." and here he hesitated as he searched his memory, "Lady Priscella Biggensworth, correct? The viscount's third daughter?"

I hid a wince - I am his

fourth

daughter - but with the military I suppose one must make some allowances. Can you imagine though, being at the Princess's ball and not knowing who is who? Incredible. Still, it wouldn't do to leave him mistaken - Patricia is dull and married, and I am neither. But I favored him with a gracious nod and a winning smile. "His fourth, but no matter."

He nodded back to me. "Of course, of course, my lady. But certainly you'll find this interesting too." He turned back to the wall behind him, and stretched up, running his hand along the books. "I found here an account of your grandfather's campaign in the Indies - fascinating read really, it has some details on this maneuvers that I've never heard before. Here, let me just find it..."

I let his voice natter off, because my attention had shifted. The captain's coat had risen as he stretched, displaying to me absolutely the most delicious pair of buttocks I'd ever seen. Tight pants are in vogue for military dress, and I watched the play of his muscles as his cheeks shifted and bounced in fascination. And then I felt a twitch in my unmentionables, and realized with a start what I was doing. But by then it was too late, and I watched in horror as my dress tented up in front of me. I thought quickly. This simply would not do - I could not bare the shame of walking around with my... all-together on display. I interrupted the good Captain's monologue. "Captain, sir! I - that is, could you-" I floundered.

He turned and looked at me, and spotted the issue right away. His brows creased with concern. "My lady, are you quite alright? Is there anything I can do?"

I nodded back, miserable. Imagine this happening at the Princess's party! "Yes, Captain. I just have a... small feminine problem. You simply must help me!" I fluttered my eyelashes at him, and tried to look as though I might faint. It was best if I elicit as much sympathy as possible.

To the Captain's credit, he did not hesitate and sprung into action. "I would like nothing better, my lady." He started toward the door. "I believe I saw one of the likely stable lads just a few minutes ago. I promise to retrieve him and return forthwith, and I will guard the door to make sure no one interrupts you and that you remain unmolested."

Now I'm sure that for a military family, a stable lad would do. But I am of the nobility! The thought of being caught at the Princess's party with a commoner - no. No, that was not an option. I grabbed his arm as he walked past. "Captain," I pleaded, trying for another eyelash flutter, "I cannot use a stable boy! I would simply die of shame. Please, can't you help me yourself?" I pouted and looked at him beseechingly.

He hesitated. "My lady, I would like nothing more than to help a vision of loveliness like yourself. But you are unchaperoned. I am, of course, an honorable man, and I promise not to take advantage." He gestured at his chest, as if his honor should be somehow on display. "But think of the talk! Your father could challenge me to a duel if we were caught, and rightfully so! We can not risk it. Why, even being alone in this room shows me to be no gentleman."

He was right, of course. But I was desperate. This required a shift of tactics. "That's very noble of you, Captain. But I assure to you, I will vouch to you with my father, should we be caught. And," and here I caught my breath and tried a tactic my mother had recommended to me, "Surely you are a gentleman, sir. We may have just met, but I know in my heart," and here I drew my hands to my chest, drawing his eye to my decolletage, "that I can trust you and you will save me from this. Please, Captain? Can I count on you?"

I'm sure the Captain was very brave in battle, but he was out flanked here and he knew it. He acquiesced. "Well... I suppose, my lady. But let me make sure the door is locked. And you must be quick."

I clapped my hands in excitement. I wanted to throw my arms around his neck, but I thought that might be pushing things a bit too far. "Oh thank you, thank you, Captain! I promise you won't regret this." I watched as he locked the door, then came back to stand before me.

He gave another bow. "At your service. Shall we?" And then he kneeled. He obviously knew his way around a lady's dress - it would have been nearly impossible for me to free myself - and I quickly found myself loosed from the myriad entanglement of restraints that normally keep my unmentionables restrained. He was a bit too close at the end, though, and I gave a gasp as my phallus sprung out and struck him on the face. The feel of his mustache against the tip was quite strange. I looked away, embarrassed. We Biggensworths may take pride in private of being only second in size to the Royal family, but to show my huge engorged length to someone outside the family made me blush.

Captain Weatherstone took it in stride, however. He smiled up at me, then stood. "You've nothing to be ashamed of, my lady. As the scientists say, it's a perfectly natural reaction." He nodded toward the couch, then hesitated and spoke slowly. "You'll have to pardon my vulgarity - I had planned to let you use my mouth, but I do believe you might dislocate my jaw. So I'm afraid we'll need to move to the couch."

I turned bright red and thought I might faint - vulgarity, indeed! To say such things so bluntly! But I suppose a man who's used to being out on campaigns cannot be expected to maintain civilized speech all of the time, so I followed him over, my tremendous penis hardening and waving back and forth in front of me as I walked with difficulty. The Captain produced a bottle of lube from his pocket with a wink - "Can never be too prepared" and lubed my giant phallus up. He then turned and took off his pants and used some on himself, before bending over on all fours on the couch in front of me. I was quite taken by the speed of it all - this was clearly a man who was always prepared to help a lady in need. And I marveled at his tiny penis - it always shocks me that men can manage with such small things.

I stared, entranced, at the sight in front of me. His naked buttocks were even more charming than before, and I could see his winking rosebud as he prepared himself for my girth. I moved forward and lightly rested my hands on the twitching bum in front of me, and was quite overcome by the sensation. It was so incredibly muscular, and I felt my hands gripping it. This, I thought dreamily, is the kind of man's behind I could marry.

He interrupted my daydreaming with a polite cough. "Apologies, my lady, but we are short on time." I shook myself.

"Of course, Captain. You must excuse my woolgathering." And then I took a deep breath, lined up my enormous tool with his anus, and started pushing in.

And oh, it was simply

wonderful

. Those delightful muscles gripped me tightly, and each inch of my phallus that disappeared into his depths seemed to multiply the pleasure. He was, I noted with approval, clearly well trained in pleasuring a woman - his anus alternated relaxing with squeezing in time with my movements, and he rocked slightly in order to bring me deeper. Clearly, despite being a commoner, his mother and sisters had not neglected their duties in preparing him for other females. It is always good to know that some of the lower classes can keep up standards.

Eventually - I'm sure it was only a few minutes, but to me it felt like ages - my tremendous phallus was fully sheathed in his bottom. My swollen balls, which of course are proportional, nestled like coconuts against his legs. I paused for a moment to savor the sensation - there is simply nothing in the world quite like fully plundering a nice behind - but the Captain was correct, and I regretfully started working myself in and out of him. And as I felt the friction of his passage against my rod, I moaned his name, "Oh, William!"

He was of course, outraged at my familiarity. "My lady, please! Control yourself! We have barely met each other."

I mumbled an apology - I truly do know better than that - and continued. And I ashamed to say that I quite lost control. My technique, which I'm quite proud of - never let it be said that a Biggensworth leaves a man unsatisfied by her phallus! - was quickly abandoned in the the face of the Captain's skillful milking of my tool. He had this incredible trick where he rippled the muscles in time with my thrusts, along with - well, let's just say that before long I was pounding away with all my might like some unsophisticated milkmaid. And in barely twenty minutes I felt my seed begin to churn, and despite my resolve to keep up the family name I knew I would quickly be flooding the Captain's bowels.

So of course, my Aunt Claire chose that minute to unlock the door and find us. She really does have the most tremendous skill at ruining things.

* * *

She was, I think, a bit overwrought. Really, it was quite the overreaction.

"Priscella Elizabeth Biggensworth! What on

earth

are you doing?!" She gestured at us locked together, as if was possible to miss what she was talking about. "This would be one thing if I was present, but to be alone with a man? Have you no shame? And

must

you rut like an animal? Really girl, have some pride."

I paused in my plundering of the Captain's behind, as it seemed impossible to continue in the face of my enraged relative. But I mounted a defense. "Really, Auntie. I just had a small feminine problem, and the Captain agreed to help m- hey! Ah, please, mmmrgm!" the last bit, of course, because my Aunt had marched up to me and plunged her hand behind my mount, and was exploring my wet slit with her fingers. I moaned as she fingered me, making sure I was still intact.

She stepped back, and I saw with relief that her frown had, at least, been somewhat reduced. She sighed. "Well, we can be thankful that at least your maidenhood is intact. No offense, Captain," she said with a brief curtsy. "I am sure your attentions are honorable. But this situation is entirely unacceptable."

The Captain, to my surprise, rose up on his knees and gave a credible bow. My respect rose - I had no idea it was even possible to make that motion while impaled upon a penis such as mine. I was, in fact, quite taken with the sensation as his stomach muscles massaged the head of my engorgement during the motion, but I tried not to show it. He nodded at my Aunt. "I assure you, Lady Claire, that I have no intentions on your niece. However, if you feel your honor has been impinged, I stand ready to accept any accounting you demand of me."

Aunt Claire studied us. She's a spinster, and I have never been able to find the story of why she never married. Any queries I made were met with some variation of "Bad thing, that." or "The poor fellow." But no other details. Finally, she shrugged. "Well, it's done now, and I suppose my niece had might as well continue now that she's started. I will, of course, watch to make sure that everything is aboveboard." And she pulled a chair so she could view us from the side. "Well, Priscella, get on with it."

I gritted my teeth - really, was nothing I ever did good enough for her? - but then started again. The Captain's bottom was just as wonderful as before, and though I struggled to maintain my form, I could feel myself being lost to the animal magnetism of his rump. Each time I started to speed up, however, my Aunt would interject. "Oh, very ladylike." "Very good dear, maybe if you had all day that would work." "Really? My word. We might as well all live in huts and live like savages." And then, suddenly, I heard her get up and move behind me, and her hands lifted my petticoats. "I'm sorry, Priscella. But I simply can't take any more of you ruining this."

I stopped, letting myself stay still while the Captain continued to work me with his truly remarkable anus. My voice was uncertain. "A-Aunt Claire? What are you-oh!" Because at that moment she pulled my final layer of underclothing down, and stepped forward. And I could feel her phallus nestle against my behind.

My voice was unpleasantly high, but I no longer felt entirely in control of it. "Aunt Claire! What are you-ah! No! Please!" And I continued on like that for some while, because my Aunt had proceeded to push her own engorged penis into my bottom. She's a Biggensworth by blood, and her girth stretched me to my limit as she invaded my passage relentlessly, pushing past my squeals and protests without pause. The Captain simply looked behind him, gave a "My word." and then simply braced himself.

Finally, panting, she reached the end, and I felt her giant balls nudge my own. To my shock, they were even bigger than mine. Aunt Claire patted me absently on my buttocks, and I squeaked as I felt them jiggle. "My sister has obviously been deficient in her teaching, niece. Therefore, I am going to give you some

direct

instruction. Pay close attention to how I move inside of you. You must learn to use your phallus like a

lady

. Now, the first step is posture..."

Do you recall when I said my Aunt can make anything boring? Well, I submit this as the proof of it. Before that day I would have thought it impossible to make this activity dull, but my Aunt managed it with ease. I did my best to follow her instructions - how else was I to end this humiliation? Can you fathom being instructed in your phallus, by your Aunt, while buried in a man? I almost would have preferred the stable boy.

I noticed quickly, however, that my Aunt didn't seem to care if I followed her instructions. She would preface statements with "Now, I want you to feel how I used my phallus here and remember it for later", or "You can't manage this in your current situation, but..." and then would proceed to work herself in me with vigor. And I had to admit it - it was more ladylike than I could manage. Her thrusts, despite her size, somehow felt dainty. And I found her lecture on not working up a sweat to be useful advice, once I worked past how awfully monotone it was. And as time went on, her voice seemed to get slightly higher and more excited, making me increasingly nervous.

Eventually, she appeared to be reaching her limit. "Alright Priscella", she panted, "This is a rather advanced technique, but you will find it useful. You are, of course, aware of the anal sexual organ, the prostrate. With your size, you can't help but stimulate it. But if you change your angle

thus

", and she shifted her hips down slightly, "and work yourself in a circular motion like

this

, you can maximize stimulation." And it did feel better, but I didn't feel it lived up to the hype. "Of course", and another shift to the side, "all anuses are different. You will need to do some experimentation... ah. There we go."

Oh. Oh,

my

.

Suddenly Aunt Claire's phallus was sending waves of pleasure through me. She worked my prostrate without remorse, pounding and rubbing it, and I could not help but react. I cried out, and her motions translated through me, pushing my own penis into Captain Weatherstone. I couldn't find his prostrate, of course - I couldn't even move on my own - but the sensations simply added to the pleasure, and I found myself afloat in a sea of euphoria. Aunt Claire's tremendous engorged rod worked my insides like a master with an instrument, and the Captain's wonderful, muscular anus played my phallus the same way. In only a few minutes I found myself close to the edge, and cried out that I was close.

My Aunt's breath was short, and her words came between dainty grunts. "Good. Now. You. See. How. It's. Done-aargh!" And I felt her let loose inside of me. Her balls clenched, and she pushed into me all the way, her semen flooding my gut like an unleashed river. It felt hot and heavy, and I cried out from the sensation of it in my bowels. I felt the pressure build, and my stomach started to extend, and then the extra pressure set off my own prostrate and I felt my own orgasm let loose into Captain Weatherstone. The pleasure took over my mind, and despite my best efforts the Captain slide off of my phallus and moved to the floor as soon as I finished unloading into him. My Aunt was still going, though, and I felt her push me down into the couch. She kept her huge penis fully sheathed in me as she came and came, making me feel ashamed of my meager effort. The Captain looked pregnant, of course, but my Aunt's fluids had flooded me to the point where I wondered if I might truly burst. I looked ridiculous, and I my Aunt's weight on top of me simply made the pressure worse as my massively swollen belly tried to spread out on the couch.

This was the

absolute

worst thing possible. "Auntie," I cried, "look at me! What have you done? How will I possibly go back to the party like this? My dress must be ruined!"

She, of course, didn't care. "Oh don't be silly, Priscella. I have just the thing. Captain, could you help me? We'll need to roll her so I can get on my feet." And to my humiliation he helped her roll me back. It

was

more comfortable, though - my giant stomach rested on the couch, and I could stand up. My Aunt stayed behind me, her phallus still fully engorged and lodged firmly in my rump, plugging her seed from being released. I felt her rummage among my petticoats. "I say, these new Stretchables from the Americas are really quite something. I'm glad I recommended them to your mother." She then patted my shoulder comfortingly. "Now, niece. You have, of course, read your

Mistress Cummingham's Guide to Woman's Issues

?"