Please - Don’t Make Me Do It.
She wore her pretty pale yellow silk nightie with a delicate Japanese flower design, with a silken over robe, caught at the neck and waist. Her mind was still very active and she reviewed the last details she had completed before leaving her home. She mentally checked her every action and it seemed foolproof.
She smiled at herself in her mirror, satisfied with her handiwork, and tuned the radio to a classical program. She sat at her dressing table, humming to the soft background music and prepared to remove her make-up
She jumped, almost fell off her stool as there was a knock at her door. Her heart beat faster, her face flushed … could it be … no it would just be an hotel employee with ..
She was at the door asking who was there. Through the door came a soft response “Alan. Please let me in”.
“No, no, please go away I’ve changed my mind. Please go away. Please.”
“I have champagne my lovely lady. Please let me share it with you and I will leave right away. If you don’t let me in I shall beat on the door and make a commotion. You wouldn’t want that would you? Please, please let me in I won’t hurt you and I just want to say thank you for the train journey.”
Carol’s heart was pounding, her senses telling her to call the desk and have the man removed
but he would have the paper with her room number and the desk clerk would remember her giving it to him. Oh god why did she do it? It would be a public humiliation.
“If I let you in do you promise to behave and leave when we’ve opened the champagne?” she whispered at the door.
“Yes, yes I promise as an ex Boy Scout to leave as soon as you tell me.”
Carol hesitated then unfastened the door chain, twisted the door handle and nervously inched the door open. She peeped out and saw before her a slim, dark suited man, perhaps late 50’s in age, perfectly white hair, a bronzed handsome face with an engaging smile. Held high on his chest was a bottle of Moet Champagne . He stood there one hand by his throat holding the neck of the bottle, the other supporting its base, making no effort to enter.
“May I come in?” he gently asked.
“I ... I ... er … well yes then” and she opened the door to him.
As he entered her telephone gave its soft burble of sound. He hand flew to her mouth. “Oh god what now” she wondered.
Picking it up, she heard Bernard’s voice. “Hello Darling. Are you OK ? Did you have a nice evening with Janet? How was the show?”
Her face flushed, she could feel the heat down to her breasts. She turned her head on the man and walked into her bedroom. Closing the door she put excitement and pleasure into her voice as she told Bernard of her evening. At last he rang off. “Yes” she thought “now you’ve checked I‘m in town and in my hotel room, you’ll get off your mobile and take that trollop to my bed.” Her eyes prickled at his betrayal, and she swallowed, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She lay face down on her bed, gripping the pillows tightly and pulling them to her face.
In his car, Bernard turned to his companion. “It’s OK, she’s in her hotel room. At last we can have a full night to ourselves. Another five minutes my dear and we will be safely parked and heading to heavenly bliss.” He reached his hand sideways, put it on his companion’s lap and felt the stiffening under his fingers. “Oh yes that’s my boy. Always ready. Take it out for me.”
His business personal assistant reached down and unzipped himself, unfastened his waistband and, pushing down his shorts, pulled out his swelling cock. Bernard wrapped his hand around it and rubbed, pulling it, cupping down to feel the fullness of the young man’s ball sac.
“Oh, Peter, am I going to have fun tonight. Tonight I will make you explode as you never have before.”
“Bernie, promises, promises. Can I lie in Carol’s place when you fuck me ... god I want to be in her place for you. Let me feel what she has felt of you. I want to feel like her when you spunk me. I wish the bitch could see me in her place taking your cock”
“Peter you won’t know what’s hit you tonight, this will be a blast like we’ve never had.”
He engaged gear and drove the remainder of his journey. In his driveway he electronically raised the garage doors and drove slowly forward, entering with his car lights on full beam.
He rolled his car into his side of the garage. As the wheel passed over the metal plate the weight of the car burst a paper package of match heads beneath the it. They flared intensely and severed the string that held the jar suspended. The jar fell, smashing onto the concrete floor and exploded with the power of a stick of dynamite. The searing flash and heat of the explosion set off a sympathetic explosion with a mixture of diesel and a common household powder. The effect was total in its awesome power. The garage disintegrated, its occupants killed instantly, the fuel in an almost full tank adding to a total devastation. A sizeable part of the house blew apart, collapsed, and the conflagration would consume the remains of the building.
A quarter of mile away the apparently foolishly dropped balaclava with its eyeholes would undoubtedly be found at the edge of the woods. Further away lay a leaflet protesting at animal testing in laboratories..
Carol was vaguely aware of her bedroom door being opened. She turned her head to see him standing there looking down at her, his coat now off and his ……. MY GOD he wore a priest’s dog collar. She thrust down with her arms, lifting herself to get off the bed, but he was too quick. He pushed her flat, his strong hands on her shoulders, holding her down. He climbed on top and lay over the length of her.
“No, no, no … you’re a priest, stop, please stop, you said you wouldn’t. Don’t oh please don’t” she begged.
His calm, educated deep voice spoke softly in her ear, making her tingle with the flutter of his breath. “Tell me your name, my deliciously sexy lady… what is your name?”
Incredibly she heard herself say “Carol.
But please go. You promised you would go when I asked you.”
He chuckled “but Carol you were such a good girl on the train, let’s make it even better now.”
He lifted his hips and pulled at her over robe. Under it he discovered her nightie. “Carol I will let you go. But you MUST take your gowns off. Do you understand? You must take your gowns OFF. I will help you, but they must come off.”
She moaned into her pillow. The words spoken in the same way that Bernard had commanded in the past entered her subconscious. Her will in this situation, eroded over more than 30 years, made her next protest weak, obviously on the verge of total submission.
“Carol, I am going to stand now. I am going to sit on your dressing chair. You will get off the bed and come and stand in front of me. Do you understand?”
She whimpered. “Carol did you hear me. Do you understand what you MUST DO? I am going to sit in your chair now ... you must come to me there.”
She felt his weight lift from her, felt the springs of the bed lift her body.
“Carol I am here .. I am waiting for you. Come to me. Don’t make me have to fetch you.”
She turned her head and saw him sitting waiting. There was the familiar roaring in her ears, his commands having their usual effect on her submissive nature. She sat and edged off the bed and stood, her head held low.
“Good girl, that’s very, very good. Good girl. Now come here to me. Do as I tell you and come to me.”
Her feet moved hesitantly towards him. She stood before him. “Now look at me Carol.”
She lifted her chin and saw his smiling handsome face, saw again the symbol of his profession around his neck. “Closer, Carol, really close.” She shuffled forward until he stopped her, inches away from his knees.
“Keep looking at me all the time. Do NOT look away and DO NOT close your eyes. Look at me all the time and let your arms rest by your side. Do you understand Carol?”
She nodded. “Tell me you understand. Tell me what you must do.” She repeated his instructions. “Good girl. You are doing very well. Very well.”
His hands reached down and lifted the hem of her robe. His fingers were cool on her legs as they caressed behind her knees. A hand slipped softly up the outside of each of her legs. She stiffened as they approached her mid-thigh.
“Open wider, Carol. Open for me. I must see it as well as feel it. I must see the treasure that I’ve only touched, only guessed at.”
“Nooo. No please go. Please leave me as you promised. Don’t make me do this.”
“Carol we agreed you would do everything I told you. Now open wide for me.”
As her feet parted making herself more available to him, her mind vaguely thought, “But we didn’t agree, we didn’t agree. I didn’t agree” even as she spread herself wider and wider at the pressure of his hands on her inner thigh. His hands were under her robe, under her nightie, hidden from view as they reached her private place. The tip of his middle finger drew gently along her pouting swelling lips and she flinched and made her whimpering noise of pleasure. His finger probed and separated her lips, finding the cream of her longing seeping from her. He circled her, searching her, finding her. She felt the pressure of him as his finger demanded entry, demanded her total surrender. She tensed as she felt the tightness of her resistance forced into submission, and the hardness of his finger entered her. She closed her eyes as he worked his finger, stimulating her nerves and the flow of her message of capitulation. She swayed, open legged, unsteady in her growing lust. She reached out and put her hands on his shoulders, feeling the linen of his shirt under her hands.
“I said keep your eyes OPEN Carol”. She looked at him, still smiling, the tip of his tongue between his full lips.
“You are doing very well Carol. I am very pleased with you. Good girl Carol.”
“Take off your gowns” he said. With no resistance left, she opened her robe and dropped it at her feet. She lifted her nightie and pulled it over her head. She heard his gasp as he saw the smooth female body, heaving panting breasts, curling soft dark hairs, the enticing gap in which lay his goal for absolute victory. He turned her around and with her back to him, he smoothed the tightness of her globes. She felt his hands on her cheeks, felt him pull her apart so as to see her wrinkled tight most private of entrances. He again pulled her legs wide and she felt a hand between, seeking her wetness, drawing the slippery fluid and rimming her tiny tightness with it.
“No please don’t not there please” she gasped. He ignored her plea and fingered more wetness over her place, and then the pad of his finger was pressing for entrance. She tensed, resisting, refusing him. “NO, NO please don’t put it in me there, please not there” she begged.
He stood and guided her towards the bed. As she reached it he pushed her making her fall forward. “Lie as you were when I came in” he said.
She knew what her fate would be as she stretched out on her tummy, her tight rounded cheeks swelling before him. She heard the rustle of his clothing as he undressed, then the springs yielding to his weight as he lay beside her. His hands were again stroking, gentling her, making her shiver with the knowledge of his lust. His hand on her bottom cheeks, parting, feeling and then finding her wetness. The fingers again coating her then pressing for entry. She flinched and resisted, but the pressure increased and she felt the stabbing pain of his entry. He worked her gently, and the pain receded, only to return as he withdrew but then inserted a second finger, stretching her tightness. He continued parting her and moving within her, making her ready for him in his priestly role.
“Stay quite still and don’t move” he ordered. He got off the bed and searched her dressing table, finding the cold cream of her toilette. He came to her and she felt the cold creaminess of her moisturiser as he gently coated her. His fingers were again inside, her muscle now accepting his presence there, as it had previously surrendered so often to her husband’s demand for submission.
He lay on top and for the second time that day she felt the hard bluntness of him as he took it in his hand and rubbed it from one hole to the other, her juices blending with her cream. He held it to her and she tried to relax in acceptance to ease his entry. She groaned into her pillow as it stretched her, then she flinched as he pressed too far, too quickly. He eased back and worked her with the very tip of himself, her muscle relaxing and then he was in. There was the familiar fullness of a man entering her anal passage. He withdrew a little and pressed forward, again and again, winning more of her each time. Each time he pressed forward she gave a deep groan of total submission. His pubic bone pressed against the cushioning of her rounded cheeks and she realised he now possessed her completely. It was now comfortable for her, pleasing to her and she worked herself backwards as he pressed forward.
He was crooning soothing words, soothing noises and suddenly his movements became frantic, his thrusts uncontrolled. She prepared herself for the finality of her ordeal. He froze, pushed and she felt the leap of him inside her, the first spurt of his heat filling her. He thrust, thrust and thrust again, each time releasing more of himself inside the tightness of her passage. Then he collapsed onto her back pressing her into the bed, his cock still jerking and twitching and pulsing out the remnants of his orgasm. At last he stilled and she felt him soften and slip out. He had yet another handkerchief and as he lifted from her he looked at the place he had raped, made his, and he saw her gaping wide from the size of him and saw his white sperm oozing out to trickle down towards her other place. He held his handky to her and she reached back, wiped herself, and then held it in place. She pulled herself from under him and held the pad as she hurried to the bathroom. She sat and emptied herself of his passion as best she could and wiped herself. She found the panties she had worn earlier in the evening and pulled them on, then returned to the room and saw him lying there, on her bed, his cock now softly shining with his cum. He smiled at her.
“You know you are an utter bastard. I trusted you and you said you would go. You have raped me for the second time today and you are a PRIEST !”
“Ah, yes I am, but I was NEVER a Boy Scout” he grinned “and you are MUCH better than a choirboy.” His cock twitched and began to swell again at the sight of her almost naked, defenceless body.
The music still played softly but suddenly the announcer’s voice broke in dramatically.
“The first reports are coming in of a massive explosion to a house and property to the south of the city. Witnesses speak of a gigantic explosion followed by fire. Emergency services are at the scene. It is believed that the property belongs to Sir Bernard Cranfield, the Chairman of the scientific animal-testing laboratory, which has been the subject of
protests and demonstrations by anti-vivisectionists over the last 6 months. More information will be brought to you as it becomes available. Meanwhile it cannot be confirmed whether the property was occupied at the time of the explosion. Sir Bernard and Lady Cranfield recently celebrated their 30 th wedding anniversary and are said to be a devoted couple”
The priest called her, compelling her to come to him, his cock readying to take her protesting yet submissive body once again.
Carol smiled to herself. Why did men always MAKE her DO things she wondered? She must find out where this priest lived and worked. Men never learned.
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/anal/please-dont-make-me-do-it-final.aspx">Please - Don't Make Me Do It - Final Part Three</a>