Honeymoon Hell

Chapter 02 – Hornsby’s Sarah

 

      “You do very well as a lady, Mr. Chapman,” said Digger.  He was standing behind me admiring my reflection in the mirror.

      “Call me Sarah,” I said admiring my image and feeling excited at what it implied.

      Lady was hardly the term.  French whore, strumpet, and flapper, were more accurate.  Still, I learned early in life there is a time to fight and a time to go along, especially with the demands of those bigger than you.  Charlie Webber had taught me that at Groton.  His father owned Webber Steel and his family was among Pittsburgh’s elite.  Of course, my dad could have bought out Webber in the blink of his eye but none of that mattered when Harry Pelham and I were summoned to the Prefect’s office.

    It had been a painful lesson.  Charlie was three years older and a head taller than me.  His broad shoulders and powerful thighs foretold of his success as one of Fordham’s football linemen.  “Down on your knees,” he ordered twisting my wrist to make me comply. 

     Frightened out of my wits, I dropped to me knees.  I had a fair idea of what was expected.  However, I was determined to resist performing such a sinful, unmanly act.

     On the eve of my entering Groton, my mother read from the family bible before dinner and she must have suspected what I faced because she recounted the tale of Sodom and Gomorrah.   Her efforts to make me steadfast in resisting sin turned out to be of no avail.

     “Take it out and suck it,” said Charlie.

     “No, I won’t,” I replied sounding braver than I felt.  Behind me, I heard Harry refusing Martin White’s demand for oral relief.  That was followed by the sound of a loud slap and a yelp of pain from my new roommate.

     Two minutes later, the two of us were lying across Charlie’s bed stripped of our trousers, being held by upperclassman who were laughing and joking about what they intended to do to us.  Between blows, wet fingers were stuck first in my ass and then in my mouth to demonstrate my fate. 

     My parents did not believe in corporal punishment so the sting of Charlie’s belt on my rear was not only incredibly painful but an entirely new sensation.  I was in no way, prepared to endure such pain to avoid the sin of Sodom.

    After ten of Charlie’s best, I found myself tearfully accepting his cock into my mouth while Harry performed on Martin’s member.  That was the first of many cocks I sucked that fateful night.  Once I overcame my initial revulsion, I discovered there was considerable pleasure to be had from having a firm, warm dick in my mouth.  The next time, Charlie, wanted his cock sucked, he didn’t have to ask twice.

     A few nights later, aided by a handful of shortening stolen from the kitchen, Charlie introduced me to the other form of sodomy.  Although painful at first, I adapted rapidly to anal penetration and if truth be told considered it pleasurable.  Charlie preferred me on my back with my legs wrapped around him so we could kiss as he copulated.

    I became a favorite of Charlie Webber’s and spent many a night in his bed.  Charlie proved to be a versatile partner and on occasion, encouraged me to sodomize him.

     Harry was right when he recounted that Charlie sometimes dressed me as a girl and called me Sarah, his younger sister’s name. 

     Unluckily, Charlie went off to war and lost his life leading his platoon in an assault on a German machine gun nest at Belleau Wood.   When I first went to Paris on family business, I made a point of visiting the American cemetery and laying flowers on his grave.  I signed the note, “All my love, Sarah.”

    Of course, when Harry and I reached the upper levels, we dutifully cornholed the underclassmen; but I can honestly say my heart wasn’t in it.  When I looked down on a tearful new student, sucking desperately to please me and avoid my belt, I sometimes wished it was me sucking his cock especially if he appeared a strong, well built youth.

     At Yale, I consigned such sins to prep school and became a frequenter of Mrs. Brophy’s establishment where a diverse population of tarts proved eager to do whatever it took to earn their keep.  Unbeknownst to Harvey, I discovered that one of Mrs. Brophy’s girls, Angie, possessed a dildo that belted around her waist and thighs, giving her the same capability as a man’s cock.  Many the pleasant evening, I spent with Angie’s faux dick in my ass while her soft hand maintained a constant stroking of my manhood.

     Expanding on our sex play, I encouraged Angie to dress her boyish figure in male attire and discovered the excitement of forcing my cock into her asshole as I whispered, “I love you, Charlie.”

    Mr. Hornsby’s cudgel and his willingness to flatten my testicles convinced me that discretion was mandatory.  I resolved to cooperate fully to avoid further pain.  When we reached Mr. Hornsby’s quarters, I meekly followed Digger when Mr. Hornsby ordered him to take me into an adjoining room and do his best at making a girl out of me.

     “Undress,” said Digger when we were alone   I quickly followed his direction.  If truth be told, I found myself somewhat eager to accept their preference for me as a girl.  If I had not felt concern for Gwyneth, I wouldn’t have hesitated to participate.

     As Digger prepared for the task, I experienced a moment of regret at my failure to consummate my marriage on the voyage.  Neptune had shown himself to be no friend of the Chapmans.  Now, the honor of splitting Gwyneth’s maidenhead would fall to others.  Perhaps, they would take pity on a bridegroom and allow me to participate in some small way.

     Digger walked around me, eyeing me carefully before taking my cock in his hand to stroke it as he spoke.  “You’ll work out nicely, Mr. Chapman.  Mr. Hornsby has an eye for a gentleman who can be made into a petty wench.

     “Under the circumstances, I’ll do whatever you want,” I said my manhood responding to the warmth of his hand.  When someone has one hand on your dick and the other your balls, congeniality is called for.      

     Digger, who I’d taken for a working class sort, showed surprising skill at transforming me.  It turned out he served as a dresser for several leading lights of the London stage before going into service with Lord Walshingham.  “I always begin at the top,” said Digger looking over the ladies wigs arrayed on the dressing table.   They appeared to be the latest styles.

     “The Eton will do very nicely,” said Digger adjusting the wig he selected.

     “They call it the shingle in New York,” I said agreeing the slicked down, very short style with curls covering my ears worked best.  Amazing how a decent wig can transform a gent.   

     “Excellent, Mr. Hornsby is very partial to the flapper look and so am I,” said Digger leaning in to kiss me on the lips.  Anxious to avoid a trashing, I kissed back with fervor, allowing my tongue to explore his mouth.

     “I see you’re being smart, Mr. Chapman,” removing the wig to set it back on its pedestal.  “Now, you keep on being that way and you’ll get to London with your balls intact although your bunghole will be larger,” said Digger laughing at his own joke.

     “Call me Sarah,” I corrected before adding, “I’m amiable to whatever it takes to keep my nuts in the same condition they arrived.”

     “Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you this but we had an American couple as guests last year.  The man was from Chicago and proved intractable to the Governor’s attempts at persuasion.  He was most unreasonable about matters that when you think about it were considered pleasurable by the Romans who founded the greatest empire the world had ever known until we British came along.”

     The hubris of the average Brit was at times annoying but I kept my peace.  “What happened to the couple?” I asked as I took a seat at a table equipped with an amazing variety of make-up.

     “They were sold off to a Turkish gentleman who transported them to the Levant but not before the Governor fixed the gentleman at the Ottoman’s request,” said Digger.

     “Fixed, how?”  I asked although I thought I knew and didn’t like the answer.

     “Same way we fix sheep.  The Governor tied his balls off with a length of gut and left them for a day.  He made the wife watch while he gave them a sharp tug.  Came right off just like a young ram.  Then Mr. Hornsby applied a red hot iron to seal the wound and prevent infection.  Nasty bit of business that,” said Digger.

    I wasn’t sure the story was true or something made up to terrify me.  I decided to accept it as gospel and act accordingly.  “Lord Walshingham will not find me lacking in willingness to do his bidding,” I said.

     “Good, that’s the ticket.  Now you sit still and allow old Digger to make you into a sweet little piece of fluff that Mr. Hornsby will approve of.”

    I sat patiently while Digger applied my makeup, once again impressing me with his skill.  Manicure and pedicure were followed by a most attractive nail lacquer.  While that dried, he tweezed my eyebrows to a narrow line then applied rouge, face powder and at the last, a compound that turned my lips a deep shade of red. 

     “What do you think, Mr. Chapman?’ asked Digger when he had finished with the make up and wig.  

     The transformation was amazing.  I didn’t doubt that I could walk down Fifth Avenue and be taken for a shop girl out to attract a gentleman.     

     “Sarah,” I corrected before adding in a feminine voice, “Excellent, truly excellent.”

      “Now, for something to wear that will catch the gentleman’s eye,” said Digger opening the large wardrobe.    

     The wardrobe contained an astonishing variety of feminine apparel, most of which I would classify as French lingerie that no decent woman would wear.

     Silver bedroom slippers, patterned hose with a suspender belt, and a silky chemise that barely covered my rear completed the look.  Saucy French cut drawers covered my derriere.  The feel of silk on my bottom was most pleasing.  I made a mental note to acquire similar undergarments for Gwyneth once we reached Paris.

     Digger taught me to walk while gracefully swinging my hips from side to side.  Looking in the mirror at the tart I’d become caused my cock to stir. 

     “Allow me to present, the sweetest bit of fluff ever to grace Ashcroft Hall, Sarah Chapman,” said Digger proudly announcing me in a loud voice as he led me into the bedroom.  Digger’s mate, Tom patted me on the bottom as I stepped forward.

     “Come here, Sarah, and give us a kiss,” said Mr. Hornsby from the bed.  The man was a hairy giant.  The sight of him naked, sprawled across the bed was enough to give me pause; but I bravely stepped forward and did a little spin before walking quickly to the side of the bed to take a seat.  I leaned forward to place my arms around his manly shoulders.

     My breath quickened as I surveyed the specimen who intended to sodomize me.  Evan Hornsby was a large man whose hirsute appearance brought to mind a bear.  He was stroking his penis when I stepped into the room.  It was breathtakingly large.  My bottom twitched at the prospect of penetration.

     Anxious to please, I reached down for his cock as our lips met.  We kissed for a while as my hand stroked his shaft and caressed his sizeable testicles.  I closed my eyes and recalled the nights, Charlie Webber and I went at it in his room.  Charlie was quite the gentleman, always making sure I climaxed before he turned off the light.

     “That’s right, Sarah.  I knew from the minute I laid eyes on you that you would prove a willing lass,” said Mr. Hornsby.

     “Ever so willing,” I said speaking in the higher octave to enhance the illusion of my femininity.

     I cuddled against Mr. Hornsby who asked me to call him, Evan.  Digger and Tom had undressed and joined us in the oversized bed.  Evan’s giant hand pushed me downward indicating he wanted his cock sucked.  I played the lover, working from his lips to his nipples before descending to the region of his formidable manhood.

     I took position between his outstretched legs, grasped his penis in my hand and lifted it so I could apply long upward licks that began at the base of his testicles and ended at the tip of his cock.  It was the starting technique Charlie Webber taught me. 

      Evan’s deep baritone filled the room with a loud sign as I teased the opening of his piss hole with my pointed tongue.  At my rear, Digger or Tom, I know not which lifted my chemise and moved my drawers aside to apply the devil’s kiss to my anus.   My own girlish sigh echoed Evan’s as the warm moist muscle pressed into my opening.

      Is there anything quite so delicious as feeling the warmth of the human tongue exploring one’s sphincter.  The two took turns with tongues and fingers until the pleasure was overwhelming.  My desire for penetration by their hard cocks made me want to scream for them to sodomize me but I wisely stayed silent except for the moans and sighs I made as my mouth and hands performed their magic on Jim’s weighty manhood.

     I summoned my dormant oral skills.  Cock sucking proved to have the same retention as riding a bicycle. 

     “Sarah, love, you are quite the tart,” whispered Evan as he looked down on my efforts.   His hand lightly caressed the back of my head.

     At my rear, Digger’s tongue had invaded my asshole while the versatile Tom was underneath me playing my skin flute with a virtuoso’s skill.  I found their efforts extremely pleasurable plus I was deriving my own satisfaction from my own solo on Evan Hornsby’s instrument.

     Yet, as a loyal husband, I gave passing thought to my Gwyneth.  I did not doubt that she was being ill used by Mrs. Kline and her lot.  How would my morally upright wife react to their depraved demands?    Would she follow my lead and accept reality?  It was difficult imaging such a properly raised young woman passing her tongue over Mrs. Kline’s sex.  Yet, I did not doubt the persuasive capability of Lord Walshingham’s minions.

      I could only hope that she adopted the same attitude as me to avoid brutal mistreatment.  I recall on several occasions witnessing Sapphic rites at Mrs. Brophy’s.  Women and even girls younger than Gwyneth eagerly sought to please one another with their mouth.  And judging by both their willingness and their loud cries of pleasure, there was no reluctance to perform the sin that dare not speak its name.

     Still, gentle born women such as Gwyneth would doubtless be horrified at being forced to participate.  And what would tomorrow bring?  Would Lord Walshingham or Harry Pelham deprive me of the honor of deflowering my bride?  I did not doubt Harry would seek to humiliate me in the worst possible fashion and in front of a large audience.

     My thoughts were interrupted by a directive from Evan.  “Wet your finger, Sarah, and stick it in my ass.”

     My well moistened index finger found the center of Evan’s sphincter and pressed inward until the muscle gave up and my digit slipped inside.  I have long delicate fingers that have proved remarkably successful in invading the orifices of both sexes.  The pad of my finger quickly located that organ whose stimulation through the anus is much prized by the male sex.

     As Evan sighed his approval, I contemplated how much I had been looking forward to demonstrating my skill at digital penetration and masturbation to Gwyneth.  Doubtless, my techniques would quickly bring her to her first orgasm thereby establishing a positive acceptance of her role as the always willing spouse.  It was essential she quickly learn that the old wives tale that women were incapable of orgasm was a myth. 

     “Beautiful work, Sarah, prepare to accept your reward,” said Evan arching his back.

     I redoubled my efforts; increasing the pace my lips were traveling the length of Evan’s rock hard penis.  I felt his mighty sword tremble and jerk in my mouth.  A powerful hand clutched the back of my head fixing me in place.

     My reward came quickly, covering my tongue with salty liquor.  I sucked the head as it spurted, delighting in having quickly pleasured such a formidable example of manhood.  

     “Give us a kiss, Sarah, my precious,” said Evan pulling me toward him.  I shared his essence when his tongue invaded my mouth.  He gladly welcomed it.  His large tongue scoured the inside of my cheeks for each warm drop.

     My respite consisted of a glass of port and a small bite of cheese.  Digger produced a jar of cream he claimed was all the way from Paris.  His nimble fingers smeared the contents on my anus then worked it inside causing me to moan and exclaim, “Oh that feels lovely, Digger.  I can’t wait to get your cock in me.”  I added a saucy shake of my bottom to emphasize my eagerness.  Playing the coquette came natural to me.

     “On your belly, Sarah, and raise your ass for a good rogering,” said Digger.

     Aided by the French cream and a well placed pillow, his cock slid deep inside in a single thrust.  I felt a stab of pain that fortunately quickly subsided.

     “How is her hole?” asked Evan lying beside me stroking his spent cock.

     “Velvety smooth and warm, Mr. Hornsby,” said Digger commencing his stroke.

     I sighed with pleasure as I pushed back to meet his thrusts.  As his manhood reached its deepest, I contracted my buttocks, squeezing its length during the withdrawal.

     “Someone who knew what they were doing taught Sarah the art of sodomy,” said Digger as he increased his pace.

     “A schoolmate,” I offered.

     “Swells learn sodomy in school where we poor folks learn it from our dads,” said Digger increasing the pace until at last, his semen spurted deep into my bowel.

      We both sighed together as Digger fell forward pressing me into the mattress.  He lay upon me breathing heavily.  I felt his softening cock slowly retract from my passage.

     “My turn, Sarah,” said Tom taking the Digger’s place. 

     My passage was now well lubricated with Digger’s spunk and Tom encountered no difficulty in entry.  “That feels heavenly,” I sighed as Tom’s blunt instrument found its way inside my rectum.  I wiggled my rear to encourage his assault. 

     Someone’s hand reached under to massage my cock and balls increasing ardor.  I countered Tom’s thrusts with my own movement.  The pleasant sound of male flesh meeting filled the bedroom.

     A palm landed with a loud smack on my flank.

     “Ride me, Tom, ride me hard,” I cried warming to his blows as I recalled the many nights that Charlie Webber mounted me and rode until we were exhausted.  Charlie, a skilled horseman, applied his crop as we galloped.  Far from taking his blows as a harmful act, my mind treated the pain as encouragement and reward.  My excitement grew with each swat.

     Finally, Tom crossed the finish line and I felt his essence fill my cavity.

     “This time you are the rider,” said Evan Hornsby lying on his back beside me.

     “Allow me, Sarah,” said Digger taking Evan’s cock in his hand as I assumed the superior position.

     I squealed, “Absolutely divine,” as I lowered my bottom.  There was a brief moment when my sphincter held off the prodigious instrument.  But once the door opened slightly, the rest gave way easily. 

     I didn’t doubt that the head of Evan’s cock reached a point heretofore only equaled by the tart Angie’s India rubber tool.  Her imitation of a cock lacked Evan’s girth and there was considerable delight in feeling the walls of my passage expand. 

     I spent the next few minutes in absolute bliss as I raised and lowered my body.  Evan’s strong fingers found their way to my nipples where he applied considerable pressure. 

     After Evan climaxed, adding his essence to the other two, I experienced something new.  Evan reached out his powerful hands and placed them under my buttocks.  He effortlessly lifted me off his cock and brought me forward to where I straddled his face.  I felt his mouth form around my anus and apply a powerful suction.  I experienced the formidable pleasure of having my bowels evacuated of their content.

     Having emptied my hole, Evan moved me to the side then rolled on top of me for a kiss that filled my mouth with the combined spunk of my sodomists.  Evan was replaced by Tom who pulled me on top of him for another kiss that involved the exchange of my anal fluids.  He in turn passed the remainder to Digger.

     The three positioned themselves to perform orally on yours truly.  Three mouths mounted a simultaneous attack on cock, balls, and asshole.  Under such an assault, my defenses quickly collapsed and I spurted my essence in one of the waiting mouths who then shared it with the other two.

     Exhausted it was time to rest.  My final surprise of the night occurred when I heard Evan inform Digger that I would be dressing as a girl for tomorrow’s party.  I gave a final thought as to how my beloved Gwyneth would react to me in female attire.  Deciding there was nothing to be done, I fell asleep.

 

***

 

     It was sometime in the middle of the night that I was awakened by another servant seeking entrance to my bottom.  It turned out to be Lord Atherton’s valet, Malcolm.

     “Mr. Harry Pelham sends his regards, Mr. Chapman,” said Malcolm as he positioned his cock at my entrance.

     “Having a go at Sarah, Malcolm?” asked a sleepy Mr. Hornsby whose arms had held me moments before.

     “Yes, at Mr. Harry’s direction, but he did not mention what a pretty lass Mr. Chapman made,” said Malcolm as he used his cock head to smear his sputum over my anus.

     I had dutifully assumed the bitch’s position, reaching back to separate my buttocks to facilitate Malcolm’s entry.  I sighed with pleasure as the cock head forced its way inside my rectum. 

     “Miss Sarah, you have a velvet hole,” exclaimed Malcolm taking hold of my hips to pull himself deep inside me.  It was a sizeable instrument and I felt the walls of my rectum expand to accommodate it.

     “Where are the Lord and Lady Atherton?’ asked Evan Hornsby as he obligingly reached underneath me to stroke my hardening cock.

     “With Mr. Harry, Lady Atherton is terribly fond of her nephew and arrived early to enjoy his cock.  I gather there is to be a sizeable soiree at dinner tomorrow to witness the deflowering of Mr. Chapman’s wife,” said Malcolm beginning a slow stroking that I found most pleasurable.  His large ball sack smacked against mine as he methodically sodomized my well used asshole.

     “Yes, they stripped the bint down and discovered she still had her virginity.   His lordship’s fingers personally confirmed it,” said Mr. Hornsby.

     Digger took a position at Malcolm’s rear as he entered the conversation.  “It was quite the scene.  Mrs. Chapman resisted at first.  Mrs. Kline had to knock her about before she would agree to get naked in front of all present.” She’s quite the beauty.”

     “I’m surprised Sarah here had not already popped her cherry,” said Malcolm halting a moment to allow Digger to penetrate his bowels.

     “We were both horribly sea sick on the voyage.  I puked my guts out for the first two days and was weak as a kitten the rest of the voyage.  My wife was just as ill,” I said wiggling my bottom to signify my need for Malcolm to continue.

     “Sarah here was planning to fuck her as soon as they reached London but Mr. Harry intervened to cheat Sarah of his prize,” said Mr. Hornsby.

     “Yes, she would have gotten a proper fucking once we reached the hotel.  We were both looking forward to it,” I said,

     “His Lordship and Lady Atherton along with Mr. Harry were discussing who will relieve Mrs. Chapman of her virtue?” asked Malcolm while thrusting his considerable member into my rear.  I listened to their discussion of who would take Gwyneth’s virginity with considerable interest.

     “My money would be on Mr. Harry Pelham.  I understand she rejected his suit of marriage in favor of Sarah’s,” said Mr. Hornsby.

     “That’s true.  Harry asked Gwyneth to marry him but she chose me instead,” I said as Tom took a position that placed his cock at my lips.  I licked around the head before taking it in my mouth.

     “There was mention of Rodney Underwood doing the honors,” said Malcolm.

     “That would be well worth watching.  I’ll never forget the expression on Miss Virginia Mapes face when he pounded it home for the first time.  The poor girl’s eyes like to have popped out of her head,” said Mr. Hornsby.

     “Poor lass bled like a stuck pig,” said Digger.

     “I wish my cock was that large,” said Tom.  “He is much sought after by the swells to deflower their daughters.  The Tattler reports that Lady Boynton persuaded him to be the first for each of her three girls.”

     “I heard he once near fucked a girl to death.  She was the Duke of Kent’s daughter and had an unusually narrow pussy,” said Digger.

     “That’s not true.  Lady Jane Elspeth is quite alive; although there are rumors she frequents her father’s stables to find stallions that fill her hole as fully as Mr. Underwood’s,” said Malcolm.

     “Where is Mrs. Chapman?” asked Malcolm who was pulling is cock out of my ass then forcing it back inside giving me so much enjoyment I sighed loudly at each re-entry.  Ass stabbing is one of my favorites.

     “She is with Mrs. Kline and her girls.  No doubt the lady in question has mastered the art of eating pussy,” said Mr. Hornsby.

     “Mrs. Kline has a gift for teaching ladies of quality about French love,” said Digger.        

     “Regardless of who goes first with Mrs. Chapman, I don’t doubt that his Lordship will offer her favors to all present including ourselves.  What say you to that, Sarah?” asked Mr. Hornsby.

     The thought of my Gwyneth being raped by all present had already occurred to me.  There was nothing I could do about it and much to my surprise I found the idea of watching her being sexual assault quite exciting.  “As long as I get to watch, I have no objections.”

     “Amazing how gentlemen love to watch their womenfolk being fucked,” said Digger.

     The conversation trailed off as everyone concentrated on achieving an orgasm.  Tom was first, giving me the satisfaction of having a mouthful of his warm spunk.  Immediately he was replaced by Digger who had manually brought himself to a state where a few simple sucks added his semen to Tom’s.  While Malcolm pounded my asshole, Evan Hornsby directed me to extend my tongue so he could coat it with his essence.

     He directed me to swallow it and I dutifully complied as Malcolm filled my rear.  Digger and Tom finished me off with their mouths as Malcolm and Mr. Hornsby watched.   

     Exhaustion had set in and once more we all curled up together for a night’s rest.