New to us, but previously published elsewhere, we bring you five beautifully crafted short stories from Dark Rider.
From occupied France, through the American deep south, to Victorian London and beyond. In this collection of five stories, Dark Rider – a published erotic author – explores the world of extreme facesitting. These women are your worst nightmares. Pray you never meet them in the flesh…
• Mistreated for years, Bethany finally snaps. When, after a drunken spree, her husband Dale awakes to find himself strapped to their bed, he realises that his bare-arsed wife has finally decided that she can take no more…
• French resistance agent Aimeé is on the run from the Gestapo. When she is cornered by a young German private, Aimeé must fight for her life with the only weapon she has – her naked body…
• His parents away, young master Edward debauches himself with Emmy, a voluptuous kitchen maid. When a convicted murderer breaks into the house, bare-bottomed Emmy begs Edward for permission to punish the intruder in the most obscene way possible…
• Rejected by his classmate, Julie, Colin exacts a perverse revenge. To save her daughter’s life, Julie’s mother must smother him with her bare bottom. Engaged in a desperate race against time, Mrs Parker soon discovers that there is more to Colin’s plan than meets the eye…
• While spying on the young ladies of St Helen’s Finishing School, Michael is discovered by the girls and taken prisoner. Chained up in a secret underground dungeon, the girls use him as their personal sex slave. But when Lucy arrives at the school, she has more deadly designs on the helpless young man and loses no time in taking his abuse to a terrifying new level…
EXTRACT
Extarct From: Smother Me Harder - Mrs Parker
He had chosen her because she was a big woman. She was attractive,
too, though to Colin that was just an unexpected bonus.
His eyes followed the contours of her body as she preceded him into
the room, her red figure-hugging vest stretched tight around the
boulders of her breasts. They jiggled gently from side to side, her
long, hard nipples pushing out through the material, twisting the
flimsy cotton into dark, diaphanous crests. Tight black leggings
gripped her arse. There was no hint of panty-line, and as she walked
ahead of him her buttocks rose and parted, drawing his gaze to the
deep, dark gully between her cheeks.
She stopped suddenly, turned to him and frowned. But it was too
late. The door closed behind her. Colin pressed a series of buttons
on the electronic lock and walked past her into the centre of the
room.
It was the room which had surprised her. It was large and airy, with
four bare walls and a high ceiling. Apart from a small, simple clock
over the door, it contained just one piece of furniture: a low, padded
bench against which Colin now leaned.
She turned again and addressed him sternly.
‘This is not your father’s study, Colin.’
He took off his tie and began to unbutton his shirt. ‘I know that,
Mrs Parker,’ he said flatly. ‘My father’s away for the weekend.
That’s why I planned this for today.’ He removed his shoes and socks,
discarded his shirt and began to unzip his trousers.
Mrs Parker straightened her back and her breasts swung freely. ‘I
think it’s best if you stop right there, Colin. I don’t know what you
have in mind, but this can only end in tears.’
He ignored her, tugged down his jeans and kicked them halfway across
the room. ‘You’re not wearing a bra, are you?’ he remarked. ‘Or any
knickers.’
‘How dare you!’ she exploded, but her face had turned scarlet and he
knew that he was right. She turned abruptly and searched for the door
handle. There wasn’t one. She scrabbled at the lock, but there was
nothing to grab hold of.
She wheeled round, her green eyes blazing. ‘Open this door at once!’
she screamed, then froze as Colin peeled his boxers down and dropped
them on the floor. Mrs Parker shook her head, looked away for a
moment, then turned back and raised her eyes to the ceiling.
‘You look ridiculous, Colin. You know that, don’t you?’
He didn’t know, because there were no mirrors in the room, but he was
happy to take her word for it. He was an 18-year-old, pale and skinny
schoolboy, with long, untidy hair, patchy brown stubble and spots.
And he was naked. He looked down and wondered were his cock had gone.
A small, milky-white sausage peeked out from between his legs. His
pubic hair was light and fluffy and he knew he looked exactly what he
was: a rather gawky, undeveloped adolescent.
‘I think you should put your clothes back on, right now,’ said Mrs
Parker.
He looked at her and smiled. ‘I like your hair,’ he announced
brightly. ‘It’s nice and black and you’ve got lots of it. No grey,
either, not bad for a woman your age.’
Colin was being cheeky now, and they both knew it. He felt his tummy
wobble for a moment and wondered if his courage was about to desert
him.
‘Is your pussy hair as black and shiny?’ he asked. Though he tried
to sound confident, the words quivered in his throat.
Mrs Parker looked up at the clock. It was 7.15 pm. When she turned
back, Colin was sitting on the bench, his thin legs kicking idly. Mrs
Parker paced up and down along a short, imaginary line, then said, ‘I
can’t believe you’ve done all this. I really can’t.’
Colin shrugged. He stretched out one arm and began to pull nervously
at a leather strap. It was one of several that lined both sides of
the bench.
‘You told me your father wanted to see me. Instead –’ She looked
around and gestured at the four white walls. ‘Instead, you show me
this. What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Colin? What do
you think Julie’s going to say when she hears about this?’
Julie was Mrs Parker’s daughter. She was in Colin’s class at school:
small and slim, with bright blue eyes, pink lips and a sweet little
turned-up nose. She had tiny breasts and hips that were becoming more
like a woman’s every day. He’d fancied her all year, but like all
the other girls he knew, she didn’t fancy him at all.
‘She says I’m a geek,’ he told her mother. ‘A bit of a nerd.’
‘People don’t always mean what they say,’ replied Mrs Parker
sympathetically.
‘I built all this, you know,’ said Colin, ignoring her answer. ‘Cost
a fortune, but it didn’t matter. I hacked into loads of bank files and
took everything I needed. It was dead easy.’
‘Colin!’ Mrs Parker looked appalled. ‘That’s fraud! For God’s sake,
are you mad? You could go to prison!’
‘The walls are soundproofed,’ he went on regardless. ‘Nobody will be
able to hear me when I scream. And the door is on a time-lock. You
won’t be able to get out of here until you’ve done what I tell you.’
Mrs Parker’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean, “No one will be able
to hear you when you scream?” What are you talking about?’
‘When you try to kill me,’ he explained. ‘I’m going to scream when
you try to kill me. I’ll beg you to have mercy on me. Not that
you’ll take any notice. You’ll just go ahead and do it anyway.’
Mrs Parker shook her head sadly. ‘You’re a sick boy, Colin. You
don’t know what you’re saying…’
Colin stretched out on the bench and began to fasten loops around
first his ankles, then his calves. ‘You’ll have to help me with some
of these,’ he told her. ‘I can’t do them all.’
‘I’m not going to tie you down, Colin, and that’s final. I’m just
going to wait here until you open this door and then I’m going home.’
‘That’s a pity,’ Colin continued, drawing a buckle tight around his
waist. ‘Because if you wait that long, you won’t have much of a home
to go to. And you won’t have Julie either.’
Mrs Parker came forward instinctively. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I put something in her bag at school. She’s got a small plastic
bear, some sort of lucky mascot.’
‘I gave it to her for her birthday,’ said Mrs Parker slowly. There
was something in the way Colin spoke that made her feel uneasy.
‘I took it out and swapped it,’ announced Colin. ‘The new one looks
just the same except for one small difference.’ He smiled with sudden
confidence. For the first time since they had entered the room, he
felt in charge. ‘It’s got a bomb inside …’
‘Don’t be stupid!’ countered Mrs Parker, but the blood had drained
from her face. ‘Where the hell would you get a bomb?’
‘I made it. I’m a geek, remember, a nerd. I can do things. I can
do things other people can’t.’
Mrs Parker shook her head. ‘I don’t believe a word of this.’
Colin shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’ He looked up at the clock. It was
now 7.18. ‘The door will open at 7.59, and the bomb will go off at
exactly 8 o’clock. You won’t have time to get home, but you should
hear the explosion when you get to the end of the street.’
‘You really are a sick boy, Colin! Open this door now. NOW, I say!’
‘I can’t. I told you. It’s on a timer. It won’t open before 7.59.
Not unless you activate the cut-off mode.’
‘And how do I do that?’ asked Mrs Parker impatiently.
Colin looked down at his right leg. He had secured the last strap
around his thigh, close to a main artery. There were wires extending
from it and they fed into a small red box below the bench.
‘There’s a tiny chip inside the lock that monitors my heartbeat. If
it stops, then the door will open automatically. It’s as simple as
that.’
