Coersion

[AmatorialWriter]

Charles

This Monday morning is like any other Monday morning for Charles who wakes up early to work early. His breakfast is prepared earlier than the morning meal for others in this spacious house of luxury. Kippers, a poached egg, a slice of fried bread, one steamed tomato and one cup of coffee constitute his meal, one of his favorites.

He pays people dearly so they perform work and services expected of a housewife. Being a successful banker, cost of labor and services is affordable, so much so his wife need not lift a finger except for someone else to perform tasks.

He arrives at his bank before Liz descends the flight of stairs by the small dining room normally used by Charles Houghton and his wife Margaret. His wife is still in Manchester waiting to meet a physician whose specialty is fertility. Liz is Margaret's best and trusted friend living with the Houghtons. To Charles, she's a surrogate for his sexual needs and desires.

His financial stature was established years ago and continues to grow. Menial ordinary and mundane tasks are performed by his staff supervised by managers. Charles comes in for perusing his business, ensures profitability, resolves problems left for him, and engages in one activity he hoards to himself, enticing borrowers to borrow from him but not just any borrowers. He pursues business from the rich and influential. Loans for others are within the domain of his staff. His business philosophy is simple. Do business with the rich and you become rich.

This morning he meets Lloyd Hawkins, the owner of a company that manufactures uniforms for the Empire's army and navy. He isn't the only vendor for Her Majesty's armed forces but he is the most prominent one. Wars in Africa and Asia attritioned not only lives but equipment including uniforms. The ever expanding Empire that already spans the globe only means more business for Lloyd Hawkins.

Charles is expected to have a formal agreement with Hawkins this morning for funds to finance the construction of a new factory. Today's meeting is regarded as a formality to seal this lucrative chunk of business. However, Hawkins informs Charles that another financier with competitive rates is being considered. This meeting ends with a congenial handshake and agreement to meet again in one week. By then Hawkins' decision will be rendered.

Charles returns home at half past one o'clock, not exuberant, not sad but determined. Optimism regarding Hawkins' business runs rampant in his thoughts. A change of people, scenery and circumstances affords him to put business aside and take Liz horse riding. By two o'clock Charles is dressed for the occasion and ready for the walk to his stables..Archibald, the staffer experienced in equestrian matters is waiting for his master and Liz with the horses saddled and ready for the ride.

Charles' riding attire consists of a shirt, breeches, black knee high leather boots, a jacket, helmet, and gloves. Before mounting his horse he assists Liz get on hers. Her legs draped over the horse's left side remain closed. Appearances must be preserved.

Liz is already familiar with the activity of riding horses, a recreation for the Houghtons but needed transportation for many others. She acquired her knowledge and practice at the Whittle Estate with Margaret. The ride begins. Charles rides on her right to avoid any calamity with her legs draped over the left.

Liz expects to go somewhere on horseback and return in the same mode. What she doesn't expect is what Charles has planned about half a mile away from the Houghton Home and out of sight. A secluded patch of woods on vacant land owned by Charles, dense with trees and suitable for privacy, is used for picnics, shooting, hunting and other recreational pastimes for amusement.

What is amusement for Charles isn't for Liz. Not at the destination in the middle of the woods. Liz thought they stopped for rest. She didn't think Charles would tie her to a tree facing the trunk. Up to now she thought his riding crop was for his horse, not her derriere. For Charles, that's foreplay. Skilled with the riding crop, he strikes her cheeks without leaving any significant marks that Moira will notice. Every few strikes and his fingers gauge her reaction by rubbing her vaginal lips. They're swollen and moist, hardly the state of someone in distress despite her tears and sobs. Then comes the inevitable. Charles stabs his sizable cock into her from behind, takes her virtue again, making himself the second man in her life to have her that way. The first being her husband Andrew who isn't expected to return for several years, perhaps never. It's her obligation as a lady of Victorian times to object with gratuitous pleas to let her go. It's his nature to continue till his pleasure is fulfilled and his semen is introduced into her body.

He cares not about her pleasure, just his so when he's sexually gratified, he pulls out, unties her, grabs her hair, turns her around and commands her to her knees. Her head is tilted back, face lifted toward his when the crop's tail pushes the underside of her delicate chin. Her tears don't dissuade him. "Cleanse me you whoring wench!" He exclaims.

 

[sallythescorpian]

Liz's morning was filled with reflection, as she considered how she had fallen so far, so fast. The lot of women in life is vulnurable to the desires of men, at the best of times, and in this instance, her husband's absence effectively left her unprotected, and the price for Charles' protection, was steep indeed, but, it was one she was willing to pay.

She admired the cut of the riding habit, it was beautiful, both fabric and tailoring declaring it to be for the finest of women, the creme de la creme of society.

Charles arrived promptly, changed into his riding gear, and the fine of his clothing only emphasised what a fine specimen of manhood he was. She held her skirts to the side as they went to the stables, where the head groom was holding a fine stallion for Charles, with a bay gelding sporting a side saddle, for Liz. She looked around for a mounting block, but Charles cupped his hands and provided the service for her, himself.

She was self conscious about the flash of thigh exposed to him, as she hooked her right knee over the saddle horn, adjusted her seat, and then put her left foot into the stirrup, adjusting the length before adjusting her skirts over herself.

She took up the reins, and nudged the horse with her thigh, and away they went, moving at a steady pace, trotting along the lanes until they reached the lands belonging to Charles, where they broke into a sedate canter. Liz was an accomplished horsewoman, and smiled to herself thinking that Charles underestimated her ability, when he stopped, thinking he was affording her the opportunity to gather herself, following their added speed.

She was surprised when Charles dismounted, and took her down. She wondered if her girth needed adjusting, but quickly found herself tied to a tree. She trembled with shock, as Charles unlaced her skirts and removed them, and even that shock redoubled as he took his crop, and applied it to her ass, raising little welts all over. She was still sobbing as he entered her, driving into her with rapid strokes. She was terrified that they would be seen, that someone would come along!!

As deep as her humiliation was, she felt funny inside, she felt her body tightening, winding up, and she began to moan, to press back against him, and then with a scream she came hard, just as he did.

He pulled out, and then untied her, speaking his first words since the ride had commenced - "Cleanse me you whoring wench!"

She obediently began to lick and suck his manhood, removing all traces of her juices, and his seed, while in contrast, his fluids ran down her inner thigh.

Acutely aware of her naked posterior, she turned and quickly donned her skirts, her eyes downcast, and she wondered what had happened to her, that strange feeling that had made her body convulse and shake, and made her scream, and she worried that he might comment on it. She looked around, and realised that she would need his help to remount, standing there, looking like a lady, having just performed duties one would hesitate to request of a whore.

His words were true, she was a whore, the fact she did not ply her trade on a public thoroughfare, changed nothing.

"Charles, would you help me remount please?" she asked quietly, pointedly disregarding what had just occured between them.

 

[AmatorialWriter]

"Charles, would you help me remount please?"

"I shan't. I didn't dismiss you yet. On your knees wench and don't dirty Margaret's clothes." Says Charles with a tone of dissatisfaction as he watches Liz step to the spot where his stiff arm and finger point. He wants her closer to him near a tree on ground spotted with damp patches and ornated with grass in its greenest summer hue. Where he points is irrelevant as long as she kneels where he points and she does.

One horse sneezes, the other chortles and both animals test the integrity of the leather restraints binding them to trees.

White barked poplar trees spike from ground to sky in a random pattern set by survival of the fittest trees and shrubs. Surrounded by woods, Charles and Liz are insulated from the world around them, particularly Charles and his dastardly deeds. The Victorian Era endows him with a mandate to treat women as objects and property purposed for men. A mandate he happily accepts almost religiously. Almost because there is latent humane side buried deep inside him and surfaces occasionally after his dominance has been established and accepted by the object of his sadistic control, sexual and otherwise. His dominance of Liz is clearly established and facilitated by her disposition that destines her for a life on the streets had it not been for the accommodating hospitality of Charles and Margaret Houghton. Margaret bestows her hospitality with sisterly affection even though Margaret and Liz belong to different gene pools. Charles bestows his hospitality for other reasons and attains compensation in the form of sexual submission. Liz's submission.

He's momentarily perturbed that Liz displays a sense of independence acting without his instruction and approval. While it's part of her, part of everyone, he's compelled to subdue and choke such acts. Rebellion or opposition is repressed in the short term. Will this build up to a rebellion in the long term? Time and circumstances will tell. So will discretion on his part.

Having read "Psychopathia Sexualis", a controversial book that documents sexual activities of perverse nature, he rationalizes his sexual desires aren't marked with the sickness that drives deviants written about in the book. Rather, he justifies his nature as a product of the times he lives in. He's nefarious and notorious with women but sees himself as Liz's savior and Margaret's providing husband. His extra-marital activities are further rationalized as a result of his wife's passive interest in sex. Watching Liz kneel on the warm patch of grass, her head slanted downward, he walks to and fro. She watches his leather boot clad legs with eyes aimed downwards.

"I have a friend, his name is Lloyd Hawkins. For reasons unimportant to you, he can use the services of a wench such as yourself." Charles taps his palm with the riding crop while looking away from Liz, contemplating the next leg of her sexual journey. "You'll meet him tomorrow evening at his residence, Wedgewood Manor. I'll take you there."

Charles drifts into silence, waiting for her reply. A reply no doubt driven by fear of Liz losing her boarding at the Houghton's mansion and resuming life in some treacherous London district inhabited by those who trade time, virtue, sin, lust, and pleasure for income. Of course Charles' actions carry motives involving favors exchanged for favors at another's cost. He's more interested in attaining business from Lloyd Hawkins and uses Liz as an enticement, a bribe of sorts. Liz isn't privy to knowing his motives and thus far has complied.

The horses slowly scrape ground with their hoofs. The soft tap of the riding crop in his hand reaches her ears while Charles waits words of her expected obedience.

Will she agree to being used as a token in trading sex for business or defy Charles, recoup any remaining dignity and flee?

 

[sallythescorpian]

Liz was surprised that she was ordered back to her knees, and she waited, wondering for a second if he was serious. She should, of course, have know better, as Charles was rarely anything but serious.

Slowly, she knelt, her head lowered, and she flamed with humiliation, watching his boots as he marched back and forth wondering what, if anything was happening. Did he have a plan beyond this, or was he simply insisting that do as she was told? was this an exercise in reminding her of her place, and how precarious it was, how she depended on him, and on Margaret, of course, but no matter what, if Charles refused to keep her, Margaret would not be able to do more than help her with some of her pin money.

When he spoke, Liz glanced up, wondering what he was proposing.

"I have a friend, his name is Lloyd Hawkins. For reasons unimportant to you, he can use the services of a wench such as yourself. You'll meet him tomorrow evening at his residence, Wedgewood Manor. I'll take you there."

Liz was under no illusion as to what would be required of her, to service his friend. Sweet Jesus! Charles was whoring her out!! She recoiled in horror, and a denial lept to her lips, even as she shook her head. He wouldn't do that to her?? Surely?? What on earth would Andrew say if he found out???? Of course, she had already betrayed her husband, but oh, a second man was much worse.

Her eyes watered, and filled with tears as she futilely searched his face, hoping for mercy, finding none. She felt the tears spill and trickle down her cheeks, as she continued to shake her head.

"Please don't, I mean, i will if you insists, but I beg you sir, please, please dont send me to another!!"