What I Think About When I Masturbate Part 6 The Number 38
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It is a Wednesday afternoon, and I've come home from college. Unusually, that day my parents were not around the farm – Dad was out with friends at an agricultural show in Hampshire, and Mum was running our stall at one of the farmers markets. After I walk inside, I change my clothes, ready to take one of the horses out for a ride.
In addition to the farm, we also run a livery business, providing stabling and equestrian facilities for a number of customers. This is Mum’s business really but, as I’ve become older, I tend to do most of the day-to-day work around the stables. We have stabling for eight horses, as well as paddocks. Customers pay a monthly fee for stabling and, if they wish, they can pay additional fees for the daily upkeep of their horses. Most customers do this as they don’t have the time to visit the farm each day to carry out the daily chores and exercise required. I do the mucking out, daily rides, feeding, etc.
On this day, I walked down to the stables, which are at the back of the farm, beyond the barns. I had changed into a blue t shirt, light beige jodhpurs and black leather riding boots. It was a warm afternoon. I went into the stables and collected the tack from the tack room, and then along the passageway to the stall where Posy was kept. She is a lovely, gentle, chestnut brown mare, who belongs to one of our regular customers.
I fitted the tack, led Posy out into the yard, and put on my riding hat before climbing up and setting off down the track, out into the Dorset countryside.
I have been asked by a number of Lush members whether riding horses causes girls to become aroused, due to the motion whilst sitting in the saddle. Well, I can only speak for myself, and my experience is that, yes, I do become aroused sometimes when riding. I think it depends upon my mood and also the time of the month. During the week before my period, I usually find that I become far more sexually aroused than normal. I guess it has something to do with my hormone levels during that week, which cause me to feel extremely horny, and leave me wanting to masturbate much more than I normally do.
On this particular day, my ride was taking place during the week just prior to starting my period. Therefore, during my hour long ride through the fields and down the lanes around our farm, I was aware of how the motions in the saddle were causing me to become very aroused. As I rode, I could feel the pommel at the front of the saddle rubbing against my already sensitive pussy through the material of my jodhpurs and panties. The constant, unforgiving rhythm of friction against the outer lips of my vulva gradually brought me to a state of high arousal, causing my breathing to become rapid and shallow, and I couldn’t resist pushing my pussy firmly against the pommel in order to increase the sensations it was producing.
This wasn’t the first time I had experienced these sensations whilst riding - it had been something I had become aware of quite some time ago. But, for some reason, that particular day the feelings seemed to be much more intense.
When I arrived back at the stables an hour later, I really was feeling extremely horny, and had every intention of masturbating once I could get to the privacy of my bedroom. I dismounted from Posy in the yard, and led her into the stables to take the tack off. As I did so, I glanced down at my jodhpurs and was shocked to see a large dark patch on the light coloured fabric, where my arousal had caused my pussy to leak its wetness through my panties. I am accustomed to experiencing some wetness when I become aroused, but I had never found myself in such a state as this before. I reached down and touched the front of the jodhpurs, and felt the soggy wetness.
The damp patch covered the front of my crotch area and had soaked down the inside of my thighs and up to the waist of the jodhpurs. As I led Posy into her stall, I remember thinking how lucky it was that no one else was around the farm at that moment to see me looking like that – it would have been most embarrassing to have to explain myself.
I tied up Posy in her stall and gave her a bucket of water. Then, I began taking off her bridle. After removing it all, I took it to the tack room and hung it up. As I walked back to her stall to take off the saddle I had a most uncharacteristic thought leap into my mind. Where it came from, I don’t know, as it is something I would never normally have even dreamt of doing. I can only assume that my heightened state of sexual arousal had somehow produced this sudden flash of uninhibited thinking. More worrying is that, rather than dismissing the thought as a ludicrous, stupid and risky idea, I found myself now starting to carry it out.
I went to the door of the stables and looked out, across the farmyard, back up towards the house. There was no sign of anyone being around, so I returned to Posy’s stall.
I took the saddle off Posy's back, and placed it over the wooden rail of the stall.
Then, I found myself pulling my t-shirt up over my head and hanging it on one of the hooks on the wall outside Posy’s stall. Then, my heart beating fast, I reached down and unzipped my riding boots, and stepped out of them onto the cool concrete floor of the stables.
Unclipping the fasteners, I pulled my damp jodhpurs down, and hung them up, followed quickly by my soggy pink cotton panties. As I peeled them down, the warm breeze blew gently over my wet pussy. It had only been a few weeks since I had begun shaving my pussy, and I was suddenly aware of how delicious it felt to expose my wet, puffy lips in the open air. As the cotton peeled from my skin, I stared in amazement at how messy they had become, my fluids covering the material with a creamy, sticky layer.
Having hung my wet panties on the hook, I pulled my riding boots back on and zipped them up, then finally unclipped my white lacy bra, and hung it up, allowing my small, firm breasts to escape.
Breathing rapidly, I remember walking back to the stable doors, wearing just my black leather riding boots, and carefully putting my head out to check again that the farm was deserted. I was still alone and I convinced myself that if anyone were to arrive at the farm, I would have plenty of time to hear them and either get dressed or hide somewhere in the stables.
I quickly returned to Posy’s stall. I put my left foot in the stirrup and climb onto the saddle, as it is resting on the wooden rail. I can still recall how it felt as my naked skin came into contact with the smooth leather saddle between my legs, and I heard myself gasp as my pussy lips pushed against the pommel.
To find myself sitting naked astride the saddle was a most bizarre feeling, a mixture of sexual excitement and fear of being caught. The thought that someone might discover me naked like this was terrifying, and as I sat there I had a moment of panic, realizing how vulnerable I now was, and how insecure I had become since the experiences of my early teens.
Nevertheless, my urge to masturbate was overwhelming by now and, instinctively, I began to push my hips back and forth on the saddle, rubbing my naked, smooth pussy against the leather seat, and then up and down on the pommel, grinding my clitoris against its firmness. Within seconds I could feel the tingling sensations returning, and as I worked my hips harder, the lips of my pussy were pushed apart, creating a coating of wetness upon the surface of the saddle.
The warmth of the stables, combined with my exertions, was causing me to perspire, and after a few minutes, I felt a trickle of sweat run down the middle of my back, and between the cheeks of my bottom. My face was glowing now, my long dark hair becoming stuck to my forehead and cheeks, as I worked my pussy harder and harder into the saddle. Looking down, I could see now how wet I had become, with the whole saddle glistening with my sex fluids.
As I push back and forth, up and down, my small breasts bounce, my deep pink nipples hard and upturned with arousal. I lean forward now, and push my clit against the pommel, watching as my lips part against the leather and expose my hidden button. Its swollen shaft rubs against the raised front of the seat, causing me to gasp with pleasure, and I close my eyes, my head tossed back.
“Hello, Sarah.”
Out of the heat and haze of my sexual arousal, a voice wafted in on the warm air of the summer’s day. I was so detached from my surroundings that at first I hardly noticed it.
“Hello, Sarah.”
Again that far off voice, louder this time. Dreamily, I open my eyes, and turn.
Suddenly all my teenage fears and nightmares become a living reality. Everything I dread is now happening for real...my world falls about around me.
Standing at the door of the stables, gazing in at me through the bars of the stall, is a tall, slender man, in his late forties. Christopher Bailey. He keeps a horse at our stables and is one of my Mum's longest standing customers. I’ve known him for years, since I was a child. He used to bring his two children here to go riding when they were small.
And now, to my total shock and horror, there he is, standing in the stables, only a few metres away, watching me masturbate, naked on the saddle. I stop and stare at him in disbelief, my mouth open in a silent scream of panic, my long, tousled hair clinging to my damp, perspiring face. Instinctively, I wrap my arms about my body, in an attempt to hide my naked breasts from his gaze, but realizing with horror that he has probably already seen everything.
“I see you’re enjoying yourself,” he says casually, and walks along the passageway until he is stood outside the stall, looking in at me.
“I thought I’d just call in and see how Duke is doing,” he added, “It’s been a while since I took him out for a ride.”
I can’t speak. The full horror of my situation is still dawning on me. Not only has my worst, most deep seated fear, that of being seen naked, suddenly become a terrifying reality, but in the most humiliating and vulnerable of situations.
He takes in the unexpected scene. He’s known Sarah since she was a girl, seen her grown up. And now, bizarrely, he finds himself gazing at this naked seventeen year old girl, sat astride the saddle, pleasuring herself.
I find my voice.
“Mr. Bailey... I’m sorry. Please, let me get dressed,” I stumble, my mouth dry and my voice weak.
I look over at my clothes, hanging on the hooks, outside the stall. They are only a few metres away, but could just as well be on the other side of the world at that moment.
He turns and walks over to them, and to my horror I watch him take down my cotton panties off the hook, saturated with my sexual fluids. He turns and smiles at me.
“My word, Sarah. You’ve really made a mess of these,” he says, a little smile on his lips.
Then he raises them to his nose, and breathes in the aroma of my sex. I feel my face beginning to flush red with total embarrassment.
“I always thought there was a hidden slut inside you, waiting to escape, Sarah,” he says, in a husky voice. “I guess this proves I was right”.
I watched him push my wet panties into his jacket pocket, and walk back to the stall, open the gate and come in, standing next to Posy. He pats her neck.
“Please, Mr. Bailey, I just want to get dressed.”
I feel tears welling up in my eyes, knowing just how stupid I have been to allow my sexual urges to get in the way of my common sense. I try desperately to cover myself with my arms, but now that he is standing so close, I realize it is futile. I quickly drop one arm to cover my pussy with my hand, but in doing so reveal my breasts.
“There’s no need to get dressed yet, Sarah. I’d really like to watch you some more, if you don’t mind,” he replies. There is a smile on his lips, but his eyes are cold.
“No, Mr. Bailey.... please don’t make me... just let me get dressed,” I plead, as tears begin to run down my face.
“Well, I guess it’s up to you Sarah. I mean, I really don’t know how I’m going to explain to your parents what I found you doing here in the stables on this saddle. I’m sure they would be devastated to find out.”
I stare at him in horror.
“You wouldn’t tell them, Mr. Bailey. Please don’t tell them,” I gasp in panic.
“Well... maybe, if you would like to carry on a while, and let me see a bit more, we could let this be our naughty little secret?”
He’s got me trapped. And he knows it. Blackmail.
I stare at him in disbelief. I had always thought he was a nice guy. Always good fun, buying me presents at Christmas and birthdays, taking me for a ride on his horse when I was small.
“Why are you being so horrible to me, Mr. Bailey?”
“Sarah, I’m not being horrible,” he says calmly, “It’s completely up to you. Your choice.”
I stare at him, helpless. I don’t have a choice.
Slowly and reluctantly, I lower my arms to my sides, and reveal my private parts to him. He gives a knowing smile.
“You know, I’ve often imagined what your little pussy might look like. When did you start shaving it Sarah?”
His eyes gaze at my swollen, red, shaved lips, pushed slightly apart against the front of the saddle, glistening with wetness. I shudder with humiliation under his scrutiny.
“I don’t know...maybe three weeks ago,” I hear myself whisper in reply.
He nodded. “It’s even nicer than I imagined. I’ve often watched you about the farm and wished I could see you naked.”
Then, to my horror, he reaches up, and places his hand on my left breast. I close my eyes and recoil, trying to make it not seem real, as his hand cups my small, firm breast, squeezing it carefully. Then his fingers take hold of my nipple, caressing it.
Despite the horror of the situation, and my attempts to pretend that it is all just a bad dream, I become aware of my body’s natural reaction to his touch. I hate myself for it, but can’t prevent the tingling sensations in my nipples, as they began to swell and become erect. I open my eyes, and find them now hard and red, pointing slightly upwards towards the wooden roof of the stables, as he plays with his teenage victim.
“Why don’t you carry on, like you were before Sarah,” he says quietly, still playing with my breast, obviously aware of my arousal.
“Please don’t make me, Mr. Bailey.” My eyes are full of tears, as I realize how hopeless my situation is.
“Sarah, I would never make you. You know that. But I just hope I don’t have to explain things to your parents.”
There is no way out. Reluctantly, I begin thrusting my hips back and forth against the saddle, rubbing my naked pussy into the wet leather again. As I do so, he reaches up and continues cupping my breast, massaging it, squeezing my firm nipple.
“You are such a sexy slut, Sarah,” he says, his voice trembling slightly. He can’t believe his luck. He has dreamt of getting his hands on this horny girl for a long time, but never imagined he’d ever get the chance.
The sound and aroma of my aroused pussy fills the air, as my motions once more cause the secretion of sex fluids from within my vagina, lubricating the saddle. After a few moments, I realize that, without thinking, I have raised my right hand, and am squeezing and caressing my right breast, just as he is doing with my left breast.
“Sarah, will you stand up...stand up and lean forward for me,” he suddenly says.
I don’t question him. There is no point. My legs feel weak, but I manage to raise myself up off the wet saddle, and lean forward, my head lowered down and resting on the wooden rail, my bottom up in the air. He has removed his hand from my breast and is looking up from behind at my glistening, wet pussy. With my hips forced up, he can clearly see everything, as my swollen red lips are pushed out, parting slightly.
“You look even better from behind,” I hear him say, almost to himself.
I close my eyes, not able to face the humiliating truth of my situation. My most deep-seated, dreaded fear has become a horrifying reality. For years, ever since I was thirteen, I have lived in fear of someone seeing me naked. But now I find this fear is nothing compared to the terrible truth of my situation now.
I am shocked, but not surprised, to feel his fingers touching my pussy. In silence, he rubs the puffy outer lips, caressing them carefully. I don’t turn round, but simply keep my eyes tight shut, wanting it all to stop. Then, without a word, he pushes a finger between my folds of my exposed vulva. I let out an involuntary gasp at his touch. He is the first man to even see my pussy, never mind touch it.
Carefully, his finger finds its way through the inner folds, and deeper, until he enters the tightness of my virgin vagina. I give a whimper, as he starts to explore my deepest secret, and I hear his breathing becoming heavier and deeper behind me. Then, he begins to pull his finger out, before pushing it in again, this time deeper. Slowly at first, but becoming quicker, he begins to finger fuck my tight pussy.
My body’s natural reaction to the situation is embarrassing and shameful. But I have no control over the involuntary feelings of arousal and sexual excitement he is causing within me. My breathing becomes faster, and within a few moments I realize that I am moving back and forth, pushing my pussy against his eager finger, and forcing it to go deeper inside my hot vagina.
“That’s right, you little slut, fuck my fingers,” says a low voice from behind me.
Then suddenly I feel another finger enter me, and gasp in pain.
“No, Mr. Bailey, I’m too tight...it’s hurting me,” I gasp, my eyes still closed to the horror.
But, despite the pain, I’m not able to resist the urge to push against him harder, the muscles of my vagina grip his fingers tightly, as though attempting, unsuccessfully, to prevent him going any deeper. The sound of his fingers sliding in and out of my hot wetness fills the stable, as I ride back and forth, eyes closed, wanting it to all go away, but somehow not wanting him to stop.
He says he hasn’t had his fingers inside a girl so young before. He can’t believe how tight I am, or how wet. And he can sense now that, despite my reluctance and obvious humiliation at being in such a vulnerable and embarrassing situation, I am not able to stop myself from doing what a horny teenage girl likes to do.
Still leaning over, I reach down between my legs, and my fingers find the firm, tingling shaft of my erect clitoris, exposed from beneath its hood, maybe three or four centimetres long. As he explores my depths, I rub my first and second finger against either side of my clit, and immediately I feel my hips buck and twitch in reaction to the stimulation. A moan of pleasure leaves my lips.
“Good Girl, Sarah,” he whispers to me, “let yourself go.”
I hate myself for it.
But I am helpless in the face of such powerful teenage urges. How could I have got myself into such a humiliating situation? The shame of being degraded like this is overwhelming. But the rush of sexual pleasure is intoxicating.
“I don’t want to,” I gasp in reply, “I don’t want to”.
But still I rub my aching, tingling clitoris, and still I rock back and forth against his hand, and still his fingers ram themselves deeper inside me, and still I pant and gasp for more.
“Yes you do, you horny little slut,” he urges, almost aggressively, and pushes deeper with three fingers now.
I feel a sudden sharp pain, and let out a cry. As he pulls his fingers out again, they have my blood on them. I’m torn. He stops, shocked at what he has done to me, looking at his red, dripping fingers.
But now I am gone too far, and even knowing he has ripped my hymen open isn’t enough to stop the inevitable from happening. Despite the momentary pain, I am rubbing my clit harder and faster, as blood runs down the inside of my legs.
He watches me as I leak blood and sexual fluids, my hips now quivering and my legs shaking, and I struggle to remain up. Then, with a gasp, I feel a flow of fluid run out over my fingers and splash between my legs onto the saddle beneath me.
“Ohhh...ohhh,” I moan with pleasure, as I experience my first real orgasm, crashing over me in waves of ecstasy. It takes me by surprise, the powerful shudders and quivers rushing through my body are new to me, as is the flood of wetness dripping from my trembling pussy.
Suddenly his hand is between my legs again, rubbing my wet lips. But I can no longer remain standing, and my legs give way beneath me. I fall back into the soaking wet saddle, with his right hand trapped under me, covering my smooth wet pussy.
“Good girl, Sarah,” he whispers, as he feels the muscular contractions of my vagina, twitching and quivering in his hand, making my whole body shudder and shake involuntarily. Then he reaches his left arm up around my body, placing his hand on my left breast again, and holds me tightly, as I sit exhausted and wet in the saddle. He feels the orgasmic shudders run through me, as my pussy continues to leak its fluids over his hand.
My humiliation is complete.
Epilogue
Since writing about this fantasy role play, I have realized just how much of a risk I have been taking by undressing and masturbating in the stables. We often have people call in at the farm, to see the horses, buy eggs or meat, or for other reasons.
It would be so easy for someone to arrive unexpectedly without me hearing them, and wander down to the stables, and discover me there in a compromising situation.
I can’t take such a risk, so have decided that, regardless of how horny I might feel at that time of the month, I won’t ever behave like that again.
In addition to the farm, we also run a livery business, providing stabling and equestrian facilities for a number of customers. This is Mum’s business really but, as I’ve become older, I tend to do most of the day-to-day work around the stables. We have stabling for eight horses, as well as paddocks. Customers pay a monthly fee for stabling and, if they wish, they can pay additional fees for the daily upkeep of their horses. Most customers do this as they don’t have the time to visit the farm each day to carry out the daily chores and exercise required. I do the mucking out, daily rides, feeding, etc.
On this day, I walked down to the stables, which are at the back of the farm, beyond the barns. I had changed into a blue t shirt, light beige jodhpurs and black leather riding boots. It was a warm afternoon. I went into the stables and collected the tack from the tack room, and then along the passageway to the stall where Posy was kept. She is a lovely, gentle, chestnut brown mare, who belongs to one of our regular customers.
I fitted the tack, led Posy out into the yard, and put on my riding hat before climbing up and setting off down the track, out into the Dorset countryside.
I have been asked by a number of Lush members whether riding horses causes girls to become aroused, due to the motion whilst sitting in the saddle. Well, I can only speak for myself, and my experience is that, yes, I do become aroused sometimes when riding. I think it depends upon my mood and also the time of the month. During the week before my period, I usually find that I become far more sexually aroused than normal. I guess it has something to do with my hormone levels during that week, which cause me to feel extremely horny, and leave me wanting to masturbate much more than I normally do.
On this particular day, my ride was taking place during the week just prior to starting my period. Therefore, during my hour long ride through the fields and down the lanes around our farm, I was aware of how the motions in the saddle were causing me to become very aroused. As I rode, I could feel the pommel at the front of the saddle rubbing against my already sensitive pussy through the material of my jodhpurs and panties. The constant, unforgiving rhythm of friction against the outer lips of my vulva gradually brought me to a state of high arousal, causing my breathing to become rapid and shallow, and I couldn’t resist pushing my pussy firmly against the pommel in order to increase the sensations it was producing.
This wasn’t the first time I had experienced these sensations whilst riding - it had been something I had become aware of quite some time ago. But, for some reason, that particular day the feelings seemed to be much more intense.
When I arrived back at the stables an hour later, I really was feeling extremely horny, and had every intention of masturbating once I could get to the privacy of my bedroom. I dismounted from Posy in the yard, and led her into the stables to take the tack off. As I did so, I glanced down at my jodhpurs and was shocked to see a large dark patch on the light coloured fabric, where my arousal had caused my pussy to leak its wetness through my panties. I am accustomed to experiencing some wetness when I become aroused, but I had never found myself in such a state as this before. I reached down and touched the front of the jodhpurs, and felt the soggy wetness.
The damp patch covered the front of my crotch area and had soaked down the inside of my thighs and up to the waist of the jodhpurs. As I led Posy into her stall, I remember thinking how lucky it was that no one else was around the farm at that moment to see me looking like that – it would have been most embarrassing to have to explain myself.
I tied up Posy in her stall and gave her a bucket of water. Then, I began taking off her bridle. After removing it all, I took it to the tack room and hung it up. As I walked back to her stall to take off the saddle I had a most uncharacteristic thought leap into my mind. Where it came from, I don’t know, as it is something I would never normally have even dreamt of doing. I can only assume that my heightened state of sexual arousal had somehow produced this sudden flash of uninhibited thinking. More worrying is that, rather than dismissing the thought as a ludicrous, stupid and risky idea, I found myself now starting to carry it out.
I went to the door of the stables and looked out, across the farmyard, back up towards the house. There was no sign of anyone being around, so I returned to Posy’s stall.
I took the saddle off Posy's back, and placed it over the wooden rail of the stall.
Then, I found myself pulling my t-shirt up over my head and hanging it on one of the hooks on the wall outside Posy’s stall. Then, my heart beating fast, I reached down and unzipped my riding boots, and stepped out of them onto the cool concrete floor of the stables.
Unclipping the fasteners, I pulled my damp jodhpurs down, and hung them up, followed quickly by my soggy pink cotton panties. As I peeled them down, the warm breeze blew gently over my wet pussy. It had only been a few weeks since I had begun shaving my pussy, and I was suddenly aware of how delicious it felt to expose my wet, puffy lips in the open air. As the cotton peeled from my skin, I stared in amazement at how messy they had become, my fluids covering the material with a creamy, sticky layer.
Having hung my wet panties on the hook, I pulled my riding boots back on and zipped them up, then finally unclipped my white lacy bra, and hung it up, allowing my small, firm breasts to escape.
Breathing rapidly, I remember walking back to the stable doors, wearing just my black leather riding boots, and carefully putting my head out to check again that the farm was deserted. I was still alone and I convinced myself that if anyone were to arrive at the farm, I would have plenty of time to hear them and either get dressed or hide somewhere in the stables.
I quickly returned to Posy’s stall. I put my left foot in the stirrup and climb onto the saddle, as it is resting on the wooden rail. I can still recall how it felt as my naked skin came into contact with the smooth leather saddle between my legs, and I heard myself gasp as my pussy lips pushed against the pommel.
To find myself sitting naked astride the saddle was a most bizarre feeling, a mixture of sexual excitement and fear of being caught. The thought that someone might discover me naked like this was terrifying, and as I sat there I had a moment of panic, realizing how vulnerable I now was, and how insecure I had become since the experiences of my early teens.
Nevertheless, my urge to masturbate was overwhelming by now and, instinctively, I began to push my hips back and forth on the saddle, rubbing my naked, smooth pussy against the leather seat, and then up and down on the pommel, grinding my clitoris against its firmness. Within seconds I could feel the tingling sensations returning, and as I worked my hips harder, the lips of my pussy were pushed apart, creating a coating of wetness upon the surface of the saddle.
The warmth of the stables, combined with my exertions, was causing me to perspire, and after a few minutes, I felt a trickle of sweat run down the middle of my back, and between the cheeks of my bottom. My face was glowing now, my long dark hair becoming stuck to my forehead and cheeks, as I worked my pussy harder and harder into the saddle. Looking down, I could see now how wet I had become, with the whole saddle glistening with my sex fluids.
As I push back and forth, up and down, my small breasts bounce, my deep pink nipples hard and upturned with arousal. I lean forward now, and push my clit against the pommel, watching as my lips part against the leather and expose my hidden button. Its swollen shaft rubs against the raised front of the seat, causing me to gasp with pleasure, and I close my eyes, my head tossed back.
“Hello, Sarah.”
Out of the heat and haze of my sexual arousal, a voice wafted in on the warm air of the summer’s day. I was so detached from my surroundings that at first I hardly noticed it.
“Hello, Sarah.”
Again that far off voice, louder this time. Dreamily, I open my eyes, and turn.
Suddenly all my teenage fears and nightmares become a living reality. Everything I dread is now happening for real...my world falls about around me.
Standing at the door of the stables, gazing in at me through the bars of the stall, is a tall, slender man, in his late forties. Christopher Bailey. He keeps a horse at our stables and is one of my Mum's longest standing customers. I’ve known him for years, since I was a child. He used to bring his two children here to go riding when they were small.
And now, to my total shock and horror, there he is, standing in the stables, only a few metres away, watching me masturbate, naked on the saddle. I stop and stare at him in disbelief, my mouth open in a silent scream of panic, my long, tousled hair clinging to my damp, perspiring face. Instinctively, I wrap my arms about my body, in an attempt to hide my naked breasts from his gaze, but realizing with horror that he has probably already seen everything.
“I see you’re enjoying yourself,” he says casually, and walks along the passageway until he is stood outside the stall, looking in at me.
“I thought I’d just call in and see how Duke is doing,” he added, “It’s been a while since I took him out for a ride.”
I can’t speak. The full horror of my situation is still dawning on me. Not only has my worst, most deep seated fear, that of being seen naked, suddenly become a terrifying reality, but in the most humiliating and vulnerable of situations.
He takes in the unexpected scene. He’s known Sarah since she was a girl, seen her grown up. And now, bizarrely, he finds himself gazing at this naked seventeen year old girl, sat astride the saddle, pleasuring herself.
I find my voice.
“Mr. Bailey... I’m sorry. Please, let me get dressed,” I stumble, my mouth dry and my voice weak.
I look over at my clothes, hanging on the hooks, outside the stall. They are only a few metres away, but could just as well be on the other side of the world at that moment.
He turns and walks over to them, and to my horror I watch him take down my cotton panties off the hook, saturated with my sexual fluids. He turns and smiles at me.
“My word, Sarah. You’ve really made a mess of these,” he says, a little smile on his lips.
Then he raises them to his nose, and breathes in the aroma of my sex. I feel my face beginning to flush red with total embarrassment.
“I always thought there was a hidden slut inside you, waiting to escape, Sarah,” he says, in a husky voice. “I guess this proves I was right”.
I watched him push my wet panties into his jacket pocket, and walk back to the stall, open the gate and come in, standing next to Posy. He pats her neck.
“Please, Mr. Bailey, I just want to get dressed.”
I feel tears welling up in my eyes, knowing just how stupid I have been to allow my sexual urges to get in the way of my common sense. I try desperately to cover myself with my arms, but now that he is standing so close, I realize it is futile. I quickly drop one arm to cover my pussy with my hand, but in doing so reveal my breasts.
“There’s no need to get dressed yet, Sarah. I’d really like to watch you some more, if you don’t mind,” he replies. There is a smile on his lips, but his eyes are cold.
“No, Mr. Bailey.... please don’t make me... just let me get dressed,” I plead, as tears begin to run down my face.
“Well, I guess it’s up to you Sarah. I mean, I really don’t know how I’m going to explain to your parents what I found you doing here in the stables on this saddle. I’m sure they would be devastated to find out.”
I stare at him in horror.
“You wouldn’t tell them, Mr. Bailey. Please don’t tell them,” I gasp in panic.
“Well... maybe, if you would like to carry on a while, and let me see a bit more, we could let this be our naughty little secret?”
He’s got me trapped. And he knows it. Blackmail.
I stare at him in disbelief. I had always thought he was a nice guy. Always good fun, buying me presents at Christmas and birthdays, taking me for a ride on his horse when I was small.
“Why are you being so horrible to me, Mr. Bailey?”
“Sarah, I’m not being horrible,” he says calmly, “It’s completely up to you. Your choice.”
I stare at him, helpless. I don’t have a choice.
Slowly and reluctantly, I lower my arms to my sides, and reveal my private parts to him. He gives a knowing smile.
“You know, I’ve often imagined what your little pussy might look like. When did you start shaving it Sarah?”
His eyes gaze at my swollen, red, shaved lips, pushed slightly apart against the front of the saddle, glistening with wetness. I shudder with humiliation under his scrutiny.
“I don’t know...maybe three weeks ago,” I hear myself whisper in reply.
He nodded. “It’s even nicer than I imagined. I’ve often watched you about the farm and wished I could see you naked.”
Then, to my horror, he reaches up, and places his hand on my left breast. I close my eyes and recoil, trying to make it not seem real, as his hand cups my small, firm breast, squeezing it carefully. Then his fingers take hold of my nipple, caressing it.
Despite the horror of the situation, and my attempts to pretend that it is all just a bad dream, I become aware of my body’s natural reaction to his touch. I hate myself for it, but can’t prevent the tingling sensations in my nipples, as they began to swell and become erect. I open my eyes, and find them now hard and red, pointing slightly upwards towards the wooden roof of the stables, as he plays with his teenage victim.
“Why don’t you carry on, like you were before Sarah,” he says quietly, still playing with my breast, obviously aware of my arousal.
“Please don’t make me, Mr. Bailey.” My eyes are full of tears, as I realize how hopeless my situation is.
“Sarah, I would never make you. You know that. But I just hope I don’t have to explain things to your parents.”
There is no way out. Reluctantly, I begin thrusting my hips back and forth against the saddle, rubbing my naked pussy into the wet leather again. As I do so, he reaches up and continues cupping my breast, massaging it, squeezing my firm nipple.
“You are such a sexy slut, Sarah,” he says, his voice trembling slightly. He can’t believe his luck. He has dreamt of getting his hands on this horny girl for a long time, but never imagined he’d ever get the chance.
The sound and aroma of my aroused pussy fills the air, as my motions once more cause the secretion of sex fluids from within my vagina, lubricating the saddle. After a few moments, I realize that, without thinking, I have raised my right hand, and am squeezing and caressing my right breast, just as he is doing with my left breast.
“Sarah, will you stand up...stand up and lean forward for me,” he suddenly says.
I don’t question him. There is no point. My legs feel weak, but I manage to raise myself up off the wet saddle, and lean forward, my head lowered down and resting on the wooden rail, my bottom up in the air. He has removed his hand from my breast and is looking up from behind at my glistening, wet pussy. With my hips forced up, he can clearly see everything, as my swollen red lips are pushed out, parting slightly.
“You look even better from behind,” I hear him say, almost to himself.
I close my eyes, not able to face the humiliating truth of my situation. My most deep-seated, dreaded fear has become a horrifying reality. For years, ever since I was thirteen, I have lived in fear of someone seeing me naked. But now I find this fear is nothing compared to the terrible truth of my situation now.
I am shocked, but not surprised, to feel his fingers touching my pussy. In silence, he rubs the puffy outer lips, caressing them carefully. I don’t turn round, but simply keep my eyes tight shut, wanting it all to stop. Then, without a word, he pushes a finger between my folds of my exposed vulva. I let out an involuntary gasp at his touch. He is the first man to even see my pussy, never mind touch it.
Carefully, his finger finds its way through the inner folds, and deeper, until he enters the tightness of my virgin vagina. I give a whimper, as he starts to explore my deepest secret, and I hear his breathing becoming heavier and deeper behind me. Then, he begins to pull his finger out, before pushing it in again, this time deeper. Slowly at first, but becoming quicker, he begins to finger fuck my tight pussy.
My body’s natural reaction to the situation is embarrassing and shameful. But I have no control over the involuntary feelings of arousal and sexual excitement he is causing within me. My breathing becomes faster, and within a few moments I realize that I am moving back and forth, pushing my pussy against his eager finger, and forcing it to go deeper inside my hot vagina.
“That’s right, you little slut, fuck my fingers,” says a low voice from behind me.
Then suddenly I feel another finger enter me, and gasp in pain.
“No, Mr. Bailey, I’m too tight...it’s hurting me,” I gasp, my eyes still closed to the horror.
But, despite the pain, I’m not able to resist the urge to push against him harder, the muscles of my vagina grip his fingers tightly, as though attempting, unsuccessfully, to prevent him going any deeper. The sound of his fingers sliding in and out of my hot wetness fills the stable, as I ride back and forth, eyes closed, wanting it to all go away, but somehow not wanting him to stop.
He says he hasn’t had his fingers inside a girl so young before. He can’t believe how tight I am, or how wet. And he can sense now that, despite my reluctance and obvious humiliation at being in such a vulnerable and embarrassing situation, I am not able to stop myself from doing what a horny teenage girl likes to do.
Still leaning over, I reach down between my legs, and my fingers find the firm, tingling shaft of my erect clitoris, exposed from beneath its hood, maybe three or four centimetres long. As he explores my depths, I rub my first and second finger against either side of my clit, and immediately I feel my hips buck and twitch in reaction to the stimulation. A moan of pleasure leaves my lips.
“Good Girl, Sarah,” he whispers to me, “let yourself go.”
I hate myself for it.
But I am helpless in the face of such powerful teenage urges. How could I have got myself into such a humiliating situation? The shame of being degraded like this is overwhelming. But the rush of sexual pleasure is intoxicating.
“I don’t want to,” I gasp in reply, “I don’t want to”.
But still I rub my aching, tingling clitoris, and still I rock back and forth against his hand, and still his fingers ram themselves deeper inside me, and still I pant and gasp for more.
“Yes you do, you horny little slut,” he urges, almost aggressively, and pushes deeper with three fingers now.
I feel a sudden sharp pain, and let out a cry. As he pulls his fingers out again, they have my blood on them. I’m torn. He stops, shocked at what he has done to me, looking at his red, dripping fingers.
But now I am gone too far, and even knowing he has ripped my hymen open isn’t enough to stop the inevitable from happening. Despite the momentary pain, I am rubbing my clit harder and faster, as blood runs down the inside of my legs.
He watches me as I leak blood and sexual fluids, my hips now quivering and my legs shaking, and I struggle to remain up. Then, with a gasp, I feel a flow of fluid run out over my fingers and splash between my legs onto the saddle beneath me.
“Ohhh...ohhh,” I moan with pleasure, as I experience my first real orgasm, crashing over me in waves of ecstasy. It takes me by surprise, the powerful shudders and quivers rushing through my body are new to me, as is the flood of wetness dripping from my trembling pussy.
Suddenly his hand is between my legs again, rubbing my wet lips. But I can no longer remain standing, and my legs give way beneath me. I fall back into the soaking wet saddle, with his right hand trapped under me, covering my smooth wet pussy.
“Good girl, Sarah,” he whispers, as he feels the muscular contractions of my vagina, twitching and quivering in his hand, making my whole body shudder and shake involuntarily. Then he reaches his left arm up around my body, placing his hand on my left breast again, and holds me tightly, as I sit exhausted and wet in the saddle. He feels the orgasmic shudders run through me, as my pussy continues to leak its fluids over his hand.
My humiliation is complete.
Epilogue
Since writing about this fantasy role play, I have realized just how much of a risk I have been taking by undressing and masturbating in the stables. We often have people call in at the farm, to see the horses, buy eggs or meat, or for other reasons.
It would be so easy for someone to arrive unexpectedly without me hearing them, and wander down to the stables, and discover me there in a compromising situation.
I can’t take such a risk, so have decided that, regardless of how horny I might feel at that time of the month, I won’t ever behave like that again.
Lizbeth
- 29.08.2022
- 15
- 0
- Category:
- Reluctance
What I think about when I Masturbate Part 2 Splashdown
- 4 years ago
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What I Think About When I Masturbate Part 3 Taken for a ride
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