Richard Mountbatten - Spell of the Beast

"God! That's luscious! What a beautiful… tight little cunt!" he gloated.

"Please…? Oh, please… Buzz? Let me up…! I just c-can't… go through with it…! My husband… has… n-n…"

"He's never used his tongue… on you…?"

"N-No! Never!"

"Why!" he probed.

"… Because… I-I've never let him! It's dirty! Filthy!"

"You really think so…?"

"Y-Yes… It's perverted!" she moaned.

"You haven't really lived, yet… you little bitch!" he chortled. "I'm going to turn you on… like you've never been before!"

Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Please… let me up?!" she sobbed.

"No! You're committed, now! Besides I'm beyond the point-of-no-return! I've got to get between those luscious legs of yours, baby… and pretty damned soon!"

There, between her legs, hands on her warm, soft thighs, still holding her immobile, Buzz Henson, gazed down, hungrily, at the thin, slightly, inflorescent pink slit, ringed, sparsely, delicately, with its soft golden hair, and as she lay on her back seemingly rooted to the blanket beneath her, her eyes pleading with him, her shame at her naked exposure making her humiliation complete, she watched petrified with horror as with deliberate, decisive movements, he placed his thumbs on the soft, fleshy lips of her cunt and slowly drew them apart, laying open her moist, ready, coraline flesh to his lust-inflamed gaze, his eyes widening in anticipation of the sexual pleasure yet to come.

"You know," he rasped. "I forgot to tell you… I'm glad you're a true blond!"

Joan only whimpered, audibly, as she raised her head to look down the valley of her breasts to see the young pilot's lust contorted face poised there between her wide-spread legs. She felt the hot vapor of his breath graze her sensitive femaleness, that secret place that had only been seen by her husband, and she moaned aloud in her shame, her head still raised, her eyes begging him for mercy that she knew, now, he would never give her.

Her breath choked in her throat as she heard his animalistic grunt and saw his head drop, felt his lips on the warm, open mouth of her vagina and the moist length of his tongue sliding hotly into her wet cuntal passage, past the barrier of the vaginal muscle ring, on in to probe the sensate flesh of the walls of her carnal vault.

Oh, my God! He's done it…! And I can't stop him…! I feel so helpless! My body won't say no… no matter what I think… or say… or do! I've never felt this way… ever… before!

Joan's beautiful body responded to him, automatically, now, the vile mouth-rape of her, here-to-fore, covert femininity causing her to jerk down and away from him with convulsive, twisting lurches of her pelvis, a loud, helpless groan coming from deep in her chest as she ground her buttocks ever farther downward in a frantic effort to escape the bestial outrage. Her stomach churned with revulsion, and she wailed with loathing as his tongue worked, slithering in and out of her pussy with wild, animal-like fury.

"OOOOoooohhh! Oh, my God! Stop!" she moaned, helplessly, her deep shame more than she could bear, her golden tresses flying as she shook her head from side to side in negative signal to him… a signal he ignored. She kept her head raised, looking down between the full mounds of her breasts to watch with horror this perverted abuse of her helpless genitals.

Clenching her small hands into fists, her arms lying helplessly and tight against her ribs, she fought him… fought herself, as unbelieving she tried desperately to keep her rational mind from realizing or acknowledging that wild, blissful sensations coursed, searingly, maddeningly through every fiber of her being. This couldn't be happening to her!

Oh! His tongue is driving me wild! Those sensations are out of this world! But, oooh God! I can't let it go on! It's wrong… a sin… and it's sick, sick… SICK!

Pushed back in her mind, a memory struggled forth to plague her. How many times had Jimmy asked her to let him do this very thing? She had refused him, because of her conviction that it was a foul besmirchment, a depravity that did not belong in the marital bed. God! Had she known the sensual, voluptuousness of it… would she have granted it to him…?

Suddenly, his lips probed and explored until he located the erect, pulsing miniature phallus enshrined in its fleshy canopy, above. She mewled and whined in agonized pleasure as he took the tiny, pulsing, erect clitoris between his teeth and holding it lightly his tongue caressed it, running up and down its short length, then in circles around it, until finally, he concentrated on the tip of it, the sensations electric in her palpitant loins.

Now, he opened his mouth wider, his tongue moving downward, again, back down to the silky smoothness of her moist, warmly sensate and throbbing vaginal passage.

Uncontrollably, now, her head began to flail from side to side, and as he mouth-fucked her, sliding his long, wet tongue up and down her hungrily clasping cuntal passage, Buzz listened to new whimpers from her signifying her new-found pleasure in the cunnilingus he performed on her. Then he shifted and drew her legs up, sliding his arms under them to wedge his shoulders and arms between her quivering thighs. His hands, beneath her thighs, pushed them up further until they draped, obscenely, over his shoulders and her buttocks were pulled up to him, brutally, while his tongue continued to swirl and flick around the velvet-lined interior of the soft hair-lined lips pulsing before his eyes. He knew that soon he would conquer her, completely; she would be his to do with as he chose. God! She was a luscious, innocent young morsel!

Her cries of agony, of involuntary pleasure rang through the forested wilderness, a cry of feral wildness, as he thrust his tongue deep into the searing, viscid depths at the naked "Y" of her open legs. Fascinated, he watched, as her hands fought desperately against themselves, struggling against odds, until their hopeless battle lost, she reached out jerkily for him, her fingers entangling, lewdly, in his hair to pull him closer, tighter to her.

She was his! Damn! He had won! She was all his to play with, to subjugate, to destroy… to fuck… however and whenever he chose to do so. She was lost! Her flaunted chastity flown!

Joan knew, now, that her body had deserted her, completely; her nude buttocks convulsed and jerked, involuntarily, beneath the ravishing tongue that sent hopeless jolts of high-voltage eroticism surging through her, sensations that she never knew existed and the exquisite torture of it hummed with the intensity of high amplification in her finely tuned nerves. Unexpectedly, she felt his tongue leave her vagina and flick downward, wetly, to the secret tiny puckered anal opening, below. Suddenly, she wanted to scream; instead she moaned out her ecstatic rapture at the surprising, moistly warm contact of his probing tongue, the forbidden pleasure-laden feelings roiling through her in confused, racing chaos. She closed her eyes and licked her lips, her tongue flicking in and out with the sensual pleasure that raced like wild-fire through her.

Frenetically, she groaned: "Oh, God… God! Please, don't do that! I can't stand it…! Oh, God… you're driving me crazy!"

Even as she spoke, her hips moved, uncontrollably up to his face, and she tried to screw her rectum onto his stiff, lashing tongue. With an effort, he shoved harder, the very tip of his lingual member entering her and moving slightly in her rear passage.

She opened her eyes, momentarily, to see that his eyes, visible to her, above the softly curling mound of pubic hair were smiling… even laughing at her, and she lay back, her eyes tightly closed to blot out the horror of it all.

"Oh, God…! Oh, God!" she moaned, tossing her head from side to side, her shame, humiliation and degradation surging to the surface of her consciousness, again, fighting to gain ascendance over the erotic sensations that had taken away all reason, leaving only raw, inflamed nerves that cried out for release.