Ravishing The Flower Girl

By Anna Austin

 

 

Description:

 

Beatrice is desperate. No one will buy her pretty flowers, and that means that she will go hungry.

 

Then a coachman approached her with an offer. His master will pay for her services. He wants Beatrice to surrender her virtue to him. He isn't going to be gentle-and it seems the coachman wants a piece of the action too...

 

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

 

"Oh Milord!" she cried, her voice husky with need. She found herself spreading her legs further as he began kissing down her body. He was still pumping his cock into her, and every thrust made her cry out. Milord held her as if she was lighter than air, his strong arms supporting her back as if she were a lover upon a dance floor.

 

Suddenly the door of the coach was flung open. Her nipples hardened from the cool air and she gasped in shock as she saw a figure outline in the doorway. It was the coachman, his hard cock held in his hand and lust in his eyes. Beatrice was so turned on, her body filled with desire to plummet over the edge of reason into sexual depravity.

 

Instead of protesting she found herself beckoning the coachman into the carriage, inviting him to join in. He smiled wickedly, reaching out and massaged her breasts then suckled on the nipples. Beatrice moan in ecstasy, and it was this that pushed her over the edge. She shrieked as her climax surged through her. She was trembling all over, limbs weak and feeble as pleasure overwhelmed her. She was vaguely aware that Milord had withdrawn from her, and was now standing over her, a devilish grin on his face.

 

"Now for the real sport to begin," he growled.

 

With the coachman's help, he gently blindfolded her and bound her wrists. Not knowing what to expect, every one of Beatrice's senses heightened. What did they intend to do with her?

 

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

 

Beatrice dabbed gently at the perspiration that gathered between the swells of her bosom with a lace handkerchief. It was humid tonight, as were most nights at this time of year. She watched as the fog which rolled onto the cobblestone lined streets of London, cloaking the river Thames in a grey shroud. A Yorkshire girl, she was used to fog, but not this kind. The fog on the moor back home was thick, cool and strangely refreshing. The London fog was like a cloud of noxious gas, grainy and stultifying, flavored with the soot of the factories.

 

She took a shallow breath and proceeded to arranging the flowers that she would sell upon those very streets for the small pittance. That would ensure another day's survival, if the weather held. It being summer she hoped the business would be good. Many a man would be out courting, and in need of a bunch of pretty flowers.

 

"Flowers for the lovely lady beside you this evening, sir?" Beatrice asked, curtsying before the stranger who she approached. The scent of freshly picked daisies, carnations and roses wafted up to drown the smells of the street. The couple walked around her as if she was invisible to them.

 

"Madam, would you like a flower?" she continued. Although the streets were busy she hadn't made enough for more than an apple. Today was not a good day, not in the least. She was so hungry. The woman diverted her eyes from Beatrice and continued to walk on.

 

A coachman approached her then, his carriage left unattended but for a moment down an alley nearby. His uniform was crisp and clean. He carried his whip at his side and tipped his hat at her.

 

"Miss." His voice was low and commanded her utmost attention among the bustling streets. She found herself a little afraid, though she knew not why.

 

 

Keywords: victorian bdsm erotica, domination submission humiliation, spanking caning blindfolded, menage double-penetration mfm