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Review This Story || Author: Rhonda Wagram

Baroness Gloria

Part 5 The Deflowering

V. The Deflowering

When they reached home, he discovered that he suddenly was very hungry and was
glad when the parlor-maid who received them and took their cloaks announced that
a little supper had been prepared in his sitting-room.  Aunt Margaret joined him
in it and soon they were having delightfully prepared little sandwiches, and
drinking more champaign. He discovered that he could eat only very little,
probably because the tight constriction of the corset did not leave much room.
The champagne apparently did not need any room under the corset: it went
straight to his head and soon he was feeling quite relaxed and in the best of
spirits. He even got up, picked up his train and started dancing around the
room, humming popular tunes.

Aunt Margaret watched him for some minutes before she got up too and caught him
in her arms.

"Enough for tonight," she cautioned him, "you'll have to go to bed now. It has
been a very long and exciting day for you."

She guided him into the bedroom and started to undress him. She took off his
jewels, his dress and his petticoats, leaving him wearing only his long gloves,
his corset and his stockings. He relished her ministrations and enjoyed every
touch.

Suddenly, she tied a wide satin ribbon around each of his wrists so that there
was about eight inches of material between them. The middle was tightly knotted
to another wide satin ribbon. He did not understand what it was all about
because this really was not fettering him in any way.  She was not done,
however, and she guided his arms over his head and behind his neck. Then she
pulled the loose end from the second ribbon to the front where she knotted it
securely around his neck, hiding the knots with an attractive bow under his
chin. He discovered that she had made him completely helpless in this simple
way. He could not use his arms or hands at all.

She took him around his small waist and drew him close. He felt completely in
her power and unable to resist her in any way. She kissed him deeply on his
mouth, letting her soft tongue play around his lips and with his tongue. It was
the first time anybody had kissed him like this, but he enjoyed it immensely,
and reciprocated with his own tongue. He instinctively wanted to put his arms
around her, but the satin bondage she had put him into prevented it and made him
realize all the more that he could only give in to her.

After several minutes she broke away and started to kiss his nipples, which
already were big, hard and erect. Shivers of delight raced through him.  The
pull of the tightly gartered stockings, the constriction of his corset, and the
soft touch of his leather gloves rubbing against his neck and shoulders all gave
him an exciting feeling: he really felt like a girl now, a girl helpless in the
arms of her lesbian lover.

Margaret guided him to the bed and made him lie down. She climbed on top of him
still fully clothed and straddled him, bunching up her long skirt around her.
She moved upward until she sat on his chest, rubbing her crotch against his
nipples. He discovered that she, too, wore no drawers. He felt the soft, moist
lips of her pussy wander around and caress his hard nipples. He writhed in real
ecstasy, his whole body squirming under her. All he could hear was his heavy
breathing and the rustling of her skirts about him.

After a while, she raised herself to a kneeling position. She picked up her
skirts and covered his head with them. All was dark now. She moved her crotch
closer to his mouth until her nether lips met his.

"I want you to use your tongue now. Lick it, suck it, let your tongue play
around in it," she commanded.

He couldn't object or escape her, bound as he was, but there was nothing he
would have liked better to do, and being forced to do it just added to his
excitement. He did as she asked him and she showed him by little movements what
she liked best. It took only a few minutes until her movements became heavier
and she pressed herself against his mouth. She rubbed herself all over his face
and suddenly some liquid erupted and ran over his face. After a few moments her
movements subsided and she let herself fall back upon his chest.

When she pulled back her skirts from his face, he saw a happy, satisfied smile
on hers.

"That was very good. You are very talented. I shall reward you now."

She reached back to the bottom of his corset and unfastened the strap that held
his turgid tool captive. As soon as the pressure relented, it sprang up. She
grabbed it and massaged it slowly.

"This is my toy now. I can do whatever I please with it, can't I?" she demanded
of him.

"Yes, you can do anything at all." She raised herself again and slowly let his
prick glide into the moist warm depth of her love nest. She started to rise and
fall in a slow, even rhythm, watching his mounting excitement, driving him
crazy.

"You see, you cannot resist me in any way, and you really don't want to. You are
my captive below my skirts, the skirts of a woman, the skirts that you wore
today and will be wearing tomorrow. You will be absolutely subjected to my will
and desire from now on."

He felt like he had to rebel against this subjection, but did not have the power
nor did he wish to rebel. Actually he wished this never would stop.

She prolonged the excitement: as soon as she felt his climax nearing, she sat
down on him without any movement until he cooled down a bit and then started the
cycle again. All the time she spoke to him in a low, but intense tone, as if she
were hypnotizing him and wanted to plant her words into his mind. She spoke
about his subjection to her that he couldn't escape and that he did not really
want to escape at all.

He was almost out of his mind with pleasure. His breath came in short little
gasps now and when finally she allowed him to come, he was so exhausted
mentally, emotionally and physically that he simply passed out.

Margaret raised herself and got off the bed. She arranged her skirt and rang for
Suzanne.

"Put him into a nightgown and have him down for breakfast tomorrow at nine," she
ordered, and left for her own apartments.



Review This Story || Author: Rhonda Wagram
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