Susie Learns the Hard Way (2 page)

She struggled against him, but he was too strong; the dancing light of battle in his deep brown eyes told her he wouldn't take no for an answer, and they glinted in triumph just before he bent his head and seized her erect nipple between his teeth. The sensation of pleasure was heightened by the rasp of cotton from the material of her thin dress, trapped in his mouth at the same time.

She gasped as his teeth nibbled, and the movement slackened the muscles in her thighs so his hand was there, between her legs, grasping her firmly, fingers sliding easily past the flimsy knickers and then burying themselves deeper and deeper into her body.

She woke up with a start to find herself sweaty and dishevelled, as if she had indeed been fighting off an attacker, and burning with arousal, as if two fingers had just this moment been withdrawn from inside her. Touching experimentally she found herself so close to orgasm that finishing was not an idea but an instinct, and she began sliding two fingers into a body that was desperately ready to accommodate them and responded with a pulsating relief of pressure almost at once.

For the second time that night she settled herself for sleep, only to be woken again by exactly the same cause. This time the Prince wasted no time with niceties and ripped the clothes from her body, laughing satanically and pointing out the finer points of her anatomy in some foreign tongue to a dark and evil-smelling monster of a man she assumed was some sort of bodyguard. Roughly manhandling her onto her back, the Prince leaned over, grasping for her nipples with both hands, his face close to hers so she could smell the spiciness of some oriental perfume on his skin and in his hair. Suddenly another pair of hands seized her ankles in an iron grip and jerked her legs apart. In horror she saw the Prince's bodyguard was no longer just a spectator – though he
was
looking, the vile monster grinning with a mouthful of blackened teeth as he stared between her legs where her tender young pussy gaped, pink and glistening. The Prince smiled harshly when he saw her dismay and ostentatiously made sure his bodyguard had a perfect view as he spread her with two Royal fingers before sliding them into her body.

She awoke to find she had one hand between her thighs, clutching herself tightly, and again instinct took over, so that her fingers slid in at once, moving back and forth before she was fully awake. This time she kept the dream image in her head as she stirred, allowing the Prince to pluck a well-formed shaft of creamy brown from his robes, climaxing as it slid inside her like a rod of fire.

Within minutes she was drifting off to sleep again, but it was still disturbed and restless and the dream replayed itself again – only this time when the bodyguard pulled her legs apart the Prince grasped one knee, pulling it wider, and smiled an invitation.

The huge creature leaned forward, its gappy grin becoming an obscene leer as his stubby fingers dabbled between her legs, flickering across her tender lips and sending spikes of unwanted response up into her body. He leered even wider when he saw how taut and sensitive she was, and then raised the intruding hand to his pockmarked face, sniffing his glistening fingertips appreciatively. Then a thick dark snake wriggled from his mouth, a shiny coiling thing like no tongue she had ever seen before. He licked the ends of his fingers, savouring her taste from each one.

Then he snarled, like a wild beast that has tasted blood, and leaned swiftly forward, pushing his large and oily head between her legs, snuffling in triumph as his thick lips tasted and kissed her and his wildly writhing tongue slithered across her opening before burying itself between the delicate pink lips that opened so hungrily to let it in, deeper and deeper, hot and wriggling, flexible and firm.

She climaxed in her sleep, calling out in a series of soft moans that woke her, flat on her back, knees high and wide, both hands crammed between her legs, fingers probing and stroking.

But that final orgasm must have been the relief her aching pussy had craved, for it finally allowed her to sleep in peace for the rest of the night, waking the next morning drained, still needing a good night's sleep before she could face a day at school. It had all been so vivid and detailed that she felt as if she'd lived through it all in real life; a feeling given extra realism by the puffiness of her pussy, which felt extra sensitive, tender and used. As well it might, she thought, gently exploring with experienced fingers. Almost at once she discovered she was neither too tired nor too tender to ignore her morning ritual, and spread her legs a little wider so she could reach every part of herself.

But this morning it wasn't the same. Though her rescue was dramatic and her rescuer suitably rugged and handsome, she found his polite and gentle manner less arousing than usual, and the feel of his lips on hers was soft and inconclusive. He touched her breast with sensitive fingers when she wanted him to pinch her nipples harshly, and he trailed a knowing hand lightly between her legs, almost asking permission before he continued, right at the very moment when he should have been masterful, commanding and certain. He should have
known
she was ready to be taken.

Which was all a bit strange, since he was entirely a figment of her own imagination and ought to have been whatever she wanted. How could a dream figure have a personality of its own, especially one she couldn't control?

But he did, and he was exerting his will over her right now. As his fingers peeled back the pink folds and traced unasked around her nut-hard little button, she felt her body respond, her actions dictated by the throbbing centre of sensation between her legs. She watched as her own hand reached brazenly out to undo his trousers, pushing them down and then resting where he rose hard and thick inside crisp white boxer shorts that contrasted with the dusty scruffiness of his outer garments. She grabbed him through the cotton and pulled him towards her, spreading her legs wider and arching her back as her unusually wanton behaviour finally brought her to the peak of arousal and allowed her body to gain its release.

And so that afternoon, bored stupid in a double period maths lesson, Susie found her daydream taking the shape of the nightmares which had kept her awake, and she found the mixture of fear and helplessness to be incredibly arousing, creating sensations in her lithe body which were far more powerful than those she had experienced that morning, or could remember feeling in her daydreams before. But she was very sure of how she felt now, and of the fiery gush in her knickers as the Prince pushed her roughly back, pinning her to the leather seat with a powerful hand, driving her thighs apart with one irresistible shove of his knee and reaching down into the valley he had forced open, grasping firmly between her legs, squeezing her tender pussy as if he was testing a ripe fruit on a market stall.

Far in the background she heard a distant voice droning on about Pythagoras.

‘Perfect,' the Prince hissed over his shoulder in foreign dialect to the monstrous bodyguard, whose tiny eyes glittered as he stared greedily between Susie's legs, watching his master squeeze and feel her. ‘Young, fresh, and ripe for the plucking.'

Somewhere far away her conscious mind made a firm decision, and immediately all hopes of rescue faded into the distance. Susie placed herself willingly at the disposal of the evil Prince, and the creamy brown erection she knew was straining to burst from his robes and penetrate her...

‘So shall you be plucked!' he roared, and laughed his satanic laugh.

Susie squirmed in fear, but that only made her body vibrate in his hand like the fluttering of a trapped bird, which roused him to greater heights of passion.

‘Ah yes, my sweet, you are ready now, and you won't have to wait any longer.' He drew a small but wickedly sharp knife from under his loose gown and deftly cut her panties away with one sweeping movement.

Bared to his gaze, Susie's fear made her wetter than ever, and the bodyguard leaned forward, waggling his hooked nose as if he'd caught the scent of her in his nostrils, but his eyes never moved and his stare was fixed on her groin.

‘You want her too, my fine Igor, I see you do.' The Prince smiled encouragement and Igor raised his head and nodded, still staring intently at the object of his desire. ‘And why not, eh, why not? A cat may look at a King, and a King's bodyguard may look at a pussy.' He laughed uproariously at his own wit and cleverness, but Igor only wetted his mouth with the tip of his tongue.

Susie lay perfectly still, waiting...

‘Take her, then, my faithful Igor, take her. And, I charge you, use her harshly.'

The piggy little eyes flickered away to look at his master for just a fraction of a second, and then fastened again on the trembling body beneath him.

‘I don't give away sweetmeats like this one very often, so ensure that you cause me to feel it a worthy gift, as delightful in the giving as in the taking.' Maintaining his grip and keeping her hands raised together above her head, the Prince eased aside to make room for the bulk of his creature, to which he had made a present of the firm young body that lay between them.

Susie was indeed a teenage beauty; slim, lithe and pretty, pert breasts tipped with cherry-red nipples, firm thighs long and slender, joining together to frame her succulent pink pussy beneath a frizz of golden hair.

Igor was a huge and ugly creature, well past forty years and well past forty inches at the waist. Worse still, he was swarthy, greasy and sour-smelling, with a pockmarked face, rotten teeth, bad breath, and dirty fingernails. He undoubtedly intended to treat Susie roughly, penetrating her with a penis she imagined to be like the rest of him; big, ugly and misshapen, perhaps like a twisted and knotted piece of old wood.

The very idea made the delicate pink lips of her pussy twitch in frightened anticipation, and brought new floods of warm moisture seeping from between them to dribble onto the leather seat.

Igor's stubby fingers were thick and brutal, forcing her apart when they could have slid between the two halves of her peach so very easily, sending the breath hissing from her nose. ‘She's ready for me,' he growled in guttural dialect.

‘Then take her. And be sure you make her suffering please me.'

Igor grinned, showing off his black teeth, while his other hand released a thick leather belt from beneath his baggy blouse. He pushed his trousers down, and up sprung a great club-headed shaft, longer and thicker than Susie's forearm, brown and mottled all the way up, with a pink and purple tip that glistened in the light and dribbled sticky strands of fluid onto her thighs.

She could see it was too big for her, but as Igor shuffled forward with the huge thing swaying about in front of him, there was no doubt he was going to push it into her and equally no doubt it would kill her when he did. But his fingers were still toying with her, producing sensations she had never felt before. They made her open wider as she arched her hips towards the monstrous thing, unaware that the Prince had released her hands and was teasing her nipples with his fingertips, creating waves of pleasure that flowed from each breast and down into her groin, where it reached the little bud Igor was so artfully teasing. It was some oriental trick or other, but it was so nice, and it made her body crave to be filled. As Igor fitted himself between her thighs she arched her back and raised her hips, offering her fragile opening. He grasped the thick shaft and tilted it until its slimy purple tip pressed against her, spreading her wider and wider as Igor leant forward and, putting the weight of his massive body behind it, urging it irresistibly into her.

Without warning Susie climaxed, suddenly and loudly.

Both hands were gripping the edge of the desk, her back was arched and her thighs tensed as the spasms swept through her body. She knew everyone had turned to look, but there was nothing she could do until her body was released from the contractions that were gradually easing and getting further apart. Ordinarily she liked this bit the best; the longer slower waves of relaxation that seemed to bring her more relief than those first few seconds of hectic pulses. But now she tried to conquer them, and act as if they weren't happening, trying to judge from the expressions of those around her whether she'd been quick enough getting hold of the desktop, or whether the whole class had seen her with her hand in her knickers.

‘Sorry,' she gasped feebly, hoping to play the period pain card again.

Miss Piggy – who taught maths as well as gymnastics – looked at her for several very long seconds. Susie's life hung in the balance.

‘Would you like to see nurse, for some aspirin?' she asked considerately, a knowing look in her eyes.

Susie shook her head, and looked down at her open book.

‘Right, we'll carry on then, where we left off.
If
we're all paying attention?'

The lesson began again and Susie breathed a long sigh of relief; she'd had the narrowest of escapes. And although she was pretty sure Miss Piggy had understood what was going on, she was equally certain that the other girls hadn't been able to turn around quickly enough, and she'd been able to pull her hand free in time. As her breathing and pulse steadied, she picked up a pen and began writing furiously, racing to fill several pages with notes and hieroglyphics so it would seem she'd been paying attention all along. Finally the torment ended as the bell signalled the end of the lesson, and the school day.