The Master of Beaulac
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The Master Of Beaulac free porn video
Rain pattered against the high windows of the cozy little library on the third floor of Beaulac Manor. Fredric Beaulac, master of the estate, sat in his favourite wingback chair, one leg crossed loosely over the other as he read by the fire, contentedly ensconced in the dry warmth amid the smell of old books.
A light tapping came at the door and he lifted his sharp brown eyes from his page to see slender, young Roberta. Bobbie, as everyone called her - a more fitting name for someone with such a bubbling, cheerful disposition - was the friend of Elaine, Fredric's college-bound daughter. Her chestnut hair was pulled to one side, hanging in heavy waves over one thin shoulder, her pale blue eyes uncharacteristicly timid.
Fredric smiled at her and waved her in, setting his book aside.
“I'm sorry, Sir, I forgot my bow.” The girl went to the seat tucked into the bay window and picked up the forgotten violin bow where she and Elaine had been practising earlier that day. Fredric's smile widened fondly. He found it cute that after all the years she'd known him, Bobbie still called him 'Sir', despite having been told she could call him Fredric or Freddie as the rest of the family and staff did. He could never figure that part of her out, but he didn't mind. It was endearing.
Bobbie paused on her way back past Fredric's chair, the fabric of her yellow sundress softly sighing around her legs. Her fine-boned face betrayed an inner indecision.
“You're dressed a bit sparingly for the weather – aren't you cold?” Fredric regarded her with keen appraisal, noting how her cheeks flushed at the comment. He wondered what had made her so suddenly shy. This wasn't her nature at all; her nature was to bounce into a room, light it up with her smiles and quick laughter, press him into a hug then bounce back out again. He thought again of those hugs and felt his cock stirring briefly. He would never touch his daughter's friend, of course, but that didn't mean her arms wrapped around him, the fullness of her breasts against his body, left him unaffected. He was very much affected. And he always chided the enthusiastic organ in his pants for it, even as he did now.
Bobbie took a slow step in his direction. Then, as though having settled whatever troubled her, walked to his chair and folded herself gracefully onto the floor by his knees. Her willowy legs were tucked beneath her, the fire glowing along the silk of her hair. Her dress on the floor spread around her like half of a sun. She put a tentative hand on his knee, sparking another flare of arousal. He shifted slightly to hide it but, he realized with a small amount of embarrassment, her eyes were now fixed on that part of his body, carefully considering the lump in his pants.
“Is there something I can help you with, dear?” the man managed to say, his voice bringing her attention back to his eyes.
“Yes, Sir,” she spoke quietly. Her plump bottom lip went between her teeth as she chose her next words carefully.
Fredric waited as patiently as he could. This close to her, he caught a trace of her perfume, a floating white lilac scent. It was his favourite of her collection. Perhaps she had known that and worn it that evening, for this occasion. He felt his blood quicken. Her physical proximity was quickly becoming overwhelming, more so than usual. There was something about her out of character quietness, her docility as she sat by his knee, that intrigued him.
“I watch you all the time in the paddock,” Bobbie said at last.
Fredric was glad of the benign subject and sighed quietly with relief, but the feeling wasn't to last.
“I watch you training the horses,” the girl confessed, her gaze dropping as though her courage was fast fading. She ploughed on before her nerve was lost altogether. “You're so strong, so powerful... So very much in control. Very much the master.”
Her hand had left his knee and begun to climb. Fredric's heart jumped but he stayed perfectly still, listening. His pants had begun to noticeably tent.
“Sometimes I dream at night,” Bobbie continued, “that I am the one you control... that you're my master.” She paused to meet his gaze. “That beneath your hands you bend my flesh to your will. I would do anything for you... Master.”
Her hand reached his groin and through the fabric of his pants Fredric felt her fingers curl around his shaft. Inwardly he groaned, filled with a strong, sudden need for more, with a desire to see her exactly as she had pictured – beneath his firm hand, guided by the authority he wanted to hold over her body. How satisfying it would be to be given complete access to her body to use as he pleased, to put his teeth to her delicate breasts, to slide himself deep inside her hotly pulsing hole...
He put a stop to those thoughts and stood. This was indecent!
Bobbie's face looked stricken. She pulled away, pale.
“Bobbie, this isn't possible for us.” Fredric's voice caught in his throat. He attempted vainly to adjust the front of his trousers so the effect her words had on him would be less noticeable. “You're Elaine's friend. This wouldn't be right.”
“Sir, please...” She held her hands out to him, crossed at the wrist, eyes pleading.
“I can't. We can't.” Fredric started towards the door. He turned to look at her, his exasperation and helplessness at the situation was clear in the low set of his broad shoulders. “Bobbie, you have to understand. I'm old enough to be your father, not to mention the strain it would put on your relationship with my daughter.”
“She doesn't have to know!” Bobbie cried. Her hands were still in the air. “You want this too! You haven't denied it! Elaine goes to college in a week – we'll have plenty of time to ourselves. Please. For months I've known you would be the one who could give this to me...”
“I... I have to go. The rain is coming down harder, and I'm going to check on the horses.” Fredric left the girl on her knees on the floor by his favourite chair.
****
Fredric closed the last stall door. He had checked on every horse in his stable, barely disturbing them as they milled about sleepily in their stalls. He took a moment to listen to the rain and smell the freshly laid hay, enjoying the peace, running a hand through his grey-flecked dark hair. The fresh air had done him good, but still he did not feel he'd been cleansed of the heat that had burned through him at Bobbie's brazen touch in the library.
“Sir...”
Fredric turned sharply, disbelieving. His cock throbbed rebelliously at the sound of her voice. Mentally he called himself a fool for letting himself get taken up so easily by this pretty young thing and her offer. He didn't know how much longer he could resist her if she continued this game. He wasn't a man of steel, he was a man of flesh, of cravings, of needs.
Bobbie stood before him in the aisle, hair matted and damp, a flimsy wool shawl clinging wetly to her arms from the walk across the yard. The amber light flickered on it's wire above them and the horses stirred restlessly.
“I'm sorry,” she said. She hung her head. “For before. It wasn't my place to be forward.”
She looked so lost. Fredric went to her, taking his jacket off to wrap it tenderly around her shoulders, but she pushed it off. The man stared in confusion as she stripped herself of her shawl and her dress, revealing a cobweb-fine lace bra and a thong so sheer it looked translucent with moisture. The girl knelt again at his feet, head lowered, dark chestnut hair veiling her face. Her shoulders shook and Fredric could not tell if it was from cold or fear of being rejected a second time.
“Bobbie.” He knelt in front of her, taking hold of her arms. She looked at him, her blue eyes desperate and wild. “Bobbie...” he trailed off, having caught sight of how her dark little nipples stood stiffly beneath the cups of her bra, pushing against the lace. His tongue grew thick and he couldn't finish what he had begun to say.
Her chest was heaving, her skin cold to his touch. She mouthed one word silently, eyes locked on his. Please.
Fredric looked at her knees pressing into the dirty floor, at her creamy smooth flesh and the goosebumps that rose along its surface. Even like this she was a graceful creature, poised in absolute supplication. In submission. Something inside him snapped and was replaced by a new feeling, a strong feeling, a rush of power. His face grew hard. This fragrant young thing wanted to give herself to him, to let him bend her flesh to his will - so be it. He would not, could not say no any longer. Taming this wild beauty would be as pleasurable as taming a wild horse in the paddock.
Taking a fistful of her silky mane, he stood, taking her with him. She trembled at his side, afraid but excited, stumbling as he led her by her hair to the back of an empty stall. He took a rope from a nearby peg and she whimpered as he bound her wrists roughly to a steel ring above her head on the wall.
With his booted foot he forced her legs apart, noting with deep pleasure how a drop of pearly liquid had trickled down her inner thigh. She wanted this, needed it, just as he did.
Coming close enough behind her that she could feel his achingly stiff cock press into her backside, he brought his face to her ear.
“You like how I break horses in,” he said softly. “I'll break you too.”
Bobbie moaned, another bead of liquid following close behind the first. Her skin was icy but he didn't care as he ran his hands over her, following the curve of her hips with his palms, smoothing over the flat of her belly, trailing down the velvet of her thighs. He came back up to her breasts, cupping them, pulling her bra down so they stood out, ready for him. He squeezed their plump roundness hard enough to elicit a yelp.
“Face the wall, don't move,” he commanded, and left the stall. At the other end of the stable he picked up a bridle meant for a small pony and the stable master's old riding crop from where it hung by the door. A suitable length of reins was close by.
He returned to find her exactly as he had left her, arms stretched above her, legs wide.
“Good girl,” he murmured, setting down his findings so he could stroke her neck and chest, enjoying how her nipples stiffened further beneath the brush of his hand. He stood back and took the scene in, wondering where to start.
Blinders.
From the pocket of his jacket he pulled a clean handkerchief and fashioned it into a blindfold. Bobbie twisted her head, shaking her long hair when he tried to wrap it over her eyes. He got it in place then stood back and watched her try to work it off, rubbing her face against her arms.
“Naughty girl,” he frowned, and her body tensed instinctively at the displeasure in his tone. Taking the reins, he folded them in his hand, leaving a long loop at the end. This he brought down on her backside, leaving a bright red stripe across the shapely swell of her ass, below the string of her thong.
She cried out, writhing against the rope that bound her wrists, but she kept her legs open, back arched, pushing her ass out further.
Fredric whipped her twice more before putting the reins back down. She was panting, forehead resting against the stall wall, and no longer trying to remove the makeshift blindfold.
Picking up the bridle, he adjusted it to a size that he thought would fit. He put the bit to her lips and she balked nervously at the feel of the cold steel. Making a clicking sound with his tongue like he would do with his mares, he pressed the bit to her lips again. Bobbie hesitated, then took it gently between her teeth.
“Good girl,” Fredric spoke softly, reassuringly, and he stroked her head as he brought the leather straps up and around, fixing them in place. He was rewarded with another low moan, watching as he did up the buckles how she pressed her chest forward, rubbing her sensitive nipples against the rough planking that made the wall. It was a sight more arousing than anything he had seen before, making him lick his lips, impatient to continue, greedy for more.
Fredric came behind her and ran his fingers down her spine. She shivered beneath the touch. Caressing over the red marks he'd made on her bottom, his hand slipped between her legs and cupped her mound, finding the fabric of her panties soaked with warm juices. Bobbie ground her hips down, rubbing against his palm. He stroked her back with his free hand and there was no resistance as he pushed the small bit of material between her legs aside to slide two fingers into her eager hole.
The girl made a muffled sound around her bit and her inner muscles spasmed tightly. Fredric couldn't believe it but she was cumming already. Pressing harder against her most tender inner place, he undid his pants and took out his aching cock, which he quickly used to replace his fingers.
Bobbie's body jerked as he entered, stretching her open. She rose up on tiptoe to accommodate him, her voice a hoarse, drawn out wail as she continued to cum. Fredric pounded into her, pushed past the limits of his restraint by her display. He held tight to her hips as she drove herself back onto him, devouring him with her cunt. The front of his pants became soaked, the scent of her musk and cum overriding the horses and the hay and the damp earth of the rain.
Fredric felt himself coming close to bursting inside her.
“Is this what you want, Bobbie?” he gasped, thrusting harder. “Naked in my stable, tied up like one of my horses, and fucked like the little slut you are?”
She whimpered, nodding fiercely.
Fredric groaned, removing himself at the last second to jet his silky white cream over the raw globes of her ass, stroking himself hard to milk every last drop, wiping himself clean on her skin.
She slouched weakly against the wall and he put a hand beside her head, bracing himself up as he panted, her body tucked safely beneath his.
After a long moment he went to retrieve his jacket and her clothing, coming back to release her hands from the wall, taking off the blindfold as he did. Before he let her dress, he commanded her to kneel at his feet.
She lowered herself obediently and looked up at him, pretty blue eyes shinning in adoration and exhaustion, eager to serve, eager to please.
Very gently he undid the bridle, taking the bit from between her lips. He handed it to her along with the as yet unused crop.
“Bobbie, you will bring these with you each time you come to visit my estate,” he instructed.
She took them with both hands, her eyes lighting up in wonder. “Yes, Sir,” she breathed excitedly.
“'Yes, Master,'” he corrected her.
“Yes, Master,” she blushed, then smiled.
“Good girl,” he said, then he let her put her dress back on and he led her back up to the house to warm herself by the fire.
A light tapping came at the door and he lifted his sharp brown eyes from his page to see slender, young Roberta. Bobbie, as everyone called her - a more fitting name for someone with such a bubbling, cheerful disposition - was the friend of Elaine, Fredric's college-bound daughter. Her chestnut hair was pulled to one side, hanging in heavy waves over one thin shoulder, her pale blue eyes uncharacteristicly timid.
Fredric smiled at her and waved her in, setting his book aside.
“I'm sorry, Sir, I forgot my bow.” The girl went to the seat tucked into the bay window and picked up the forgotten violin bow where she and Elaine had been practising earlier that day. Fredric's smile widened fondly. He found it cute that after all the years she'd known him, Bobbie still called him 'Sir', despite having been told she could call him Fredric or Freddie as the rest of the family and staff did. He could never figure that part of her out, but he didn't mind. It was endearing.
Bobbie paused on her way back past Fredric's chair, the fabric of her yellow sundress softly sighing around her legs. Her fine-boned face betrayed an inner indecision.
“You're dressed a bit sparingly for the weather – aren't you cold?” Fredric regarded her with keen appraisal, noting how her cheeks flushed at the comment. He wondered what had made her so suddenly shy. This wasn't her nature at all; her nature was to bounce into a room, light it up with her smiles and quick laughter, press him into a hug then bounce back out again. He thought again of those hugs and felt his cock stirring briefly. He would never touch his daughter's friend, of course, but that didn't mean her arms wrapped around him, the fullness of her breasts against his body, left him unaffected. He was very much affected. And he always chided the enthusiastic organ in his pants for it, even as he did now.
Bobbie took a slow step in his direction. Then, as though having settled whatever troubled her, walked to his chair and folded herself gracefully onto the floor by his knees. Her willowy legs were tucked beneath her, the fire glowing along the silk of her hair. Her dress on the floor spread around her like half of a sun. She put a tentative hand on his knee, sparking another flare of arousal. He shifted slightly to hide it but, he realized with a small amount of embarrassment, her eyes were now fixed on that part of his body, carefully considering the lump in his pants.
“Is there something I can help you with, dear?” the man managed to say, his voice bringing her attention back to his eyes.
“Yes, Sir,” she spoke quietly. Her plump bottom lip went between her teeth as she chose her next words carefully.
Fredric waited as patiently as he could. This close to her, he caught a trace of her perfume, a floating white lilac scent. It was his favourite of her collection. Perhaps she had known that and worn it that evening, for this occasion. He felt his blood quicken. Her physical proximity was quickly becoming overwhelming, more so than usual. There was something about her out of character quietness, her docility as she sat by his knee, that intrigued him.
“I watch you all the time in the paddock,” Bobbie said at last.
Fredric was glad of the benign subject and sighed quietly with relief, but the feeling wasn't to last.
“I watch you training the horses,” the girl confessed, her gaze dropping as though her courage was fast fading. She ploughed on before her nerve was lost altogether. “You're so strong, so powerful... So very much in control. Very much the master.”
Her hand had left his knee and begun to climb. Fredric's heart jumped but he stayed perfectly still, listening. His pants had begun to noticeably tent.
“Sometimes I dream at night,” Bobbie continued, “that I am the one you control... that you're my master.” She paused to meet his gaze. “That beneath your hands you bend my flesh to your will. I would do anything for you... Master.”
Her hand reached his groin and through the fabric of his pants Fredric felt her fingers curl around his shaft. Inwardly he groaned, filled with a strong, sudden need for more, with a desire to see her exactly as she had pictured – beneath his firm hand, guided by the authority he wanted to hold over her body. How satisfying it would be to be given complete access to her body to use as he pleased, to put his teeth to her delicate breasts, to slide himself deep inside her hotly pulsing hole...
He put a stop to those thoughts and stood. This was indecent!
Bobbie's face looked stricken. She pulled away, pale.
“Bobbie, this isn't possible for us.” Fredric's voice caught in his throat. He attempted vainly to adjust the front of his trousers so the effect her words had on him would be less noticeable. “You're Elaine's friend. This wouldn't be right.”
“Sir, please...” She held her hands out to him, crossed at the wrist, eyes pleading.
“I can't. We can't.” Fredric started towards the door. He turned to look at her, his exasperation and helplessness at the situation was clear in the low set of his broad shoulders. “Bobbie, you have to understand. I'm old enough to be your father, not to mention the strain it would put on your relationship with my daughter.”
“She doesn't have to know!” Bobbie cried. Her hands were still in the air. “You want this too! You haven't denied it! Elaine goes to college in a week – we'll have plenty of time to ourselves. Please. For months I've known you would be the one who could give this to me...”
“I... I have to go. The rain is coming down harder, and I'm going to check on the horses.” Fredric left the girl on her knees on the floor by his favourite chair.
****
Fredric closed the last stall door. He had checked on every horse in his stable, barely disturbing them as they milled about sleepily in their stalls. He took a moment to listen to the rain and smell the freshly laid hay, enjoying the peace, running a hand through his grey-flecked dark hair. The fresh air had done him good, but still he did not feel he'd been cleansed of the heat that had burned through him at Bobbie's brazen touch in the library.
“Sir...”
Fredric turned sharply, disbelieving. His cock throbbed rebelliously at the sound of her voice. Mentally he called himself a fool for letting himself get taken up so easily by this pretty young thing and her offer. He didn't know how much longer he could resist her if she continued this game. He wasn't a man of steel, he was a man of flesh, of cravings, of needs.
Bobbie stood before him in the aisle, hair matted and damp, a flimsy wool shawl clinging wetly to her arms from the walk across the yard. The amber light flickered on it's wire above them and the horses stirred restlessly.
“I'm sorry,” she said. She hung her head. “For before. It wasn't my place to be forward.”
She looked so lost. Fredric went to her, taking his jacket off to wrap it tenderly around her shoulders, but she pushed it off. The man stared in confusion as she stripped herself of her shawl and her dress, revealing a cobweb-fine lace bra and a thong so sheer it looked translucent with moisture. The girl knelt again at his feet, head lowered, dark chestnut hair veiling her face. Her shoulders shook and Fredric could not tell if it was from cold or fear of being rejected a second time.
“Bobbie.” He knelt in front of her, taking hold of her arms. She looked at him, her blue eyes desperate and wild. “Bobbie...” he trailed off, having caught sight of how her dark little nipples stood stiffly beneath the cups of her bra, pushing against the lace. His tongue grew thick and he couldn't finish what he had begun to say.
Her chest was heaving, her skin cold to his touch. She mouthed one word silently, eyes locked on his. Please.
Fredric looked at her knees pressing into the dirty floor, at her creamy smooth flesh and the goosebumps that rose along its surface. Even like this she was a graceful creature, poised in absolute supplication. In submission. Something inside him snapped and was replaced by a new feeling, a strong feeling, a rush of power. His face grew hard. This fragrant young thing wanted to give herself to him, to let him bend her flesh to his will - so be it. He would not, could not say no any longer. Taming this wild beauty would be as pleasurable as taming a wild horse in the paddock.
Taking a fistful of her silky mane, he stood, taking her with him. She trembled at his side, afraid but excited, stumbling as he led her by her hair to the back of an empty stall. He took a rope from a nearby peg and she whimpered as he bound her wrists roughly to a steel ring above her head on the wall.
With his booted foot he forced her legs apart, noting with deep pleasure how a drop of pearly liquid had trickled down her inner thigh. She wanted this, needed it, just as he did.
Coming close enough behind her that she could feel his achingly stiff cock press into her backside, he brought his face to her ear.
“You like how I break horses in,” he said softly. “I'll break you too.”
Bobbie moaned, another bead of liquid following close behind the first. Her skin was icy but he didn't care as he ran his hands over her, following the curve of her hips with his palms, smoothing over the flat of her belly, trailing down the velvet of her thighs. He came back up to her breasts, cupping them, pulling her bra down so they stood out, ready for him. He squeezed their plump roundness hard enough to elicit a yelp.
“Face the wall, don't move,” he commanded, and left the stall. At the other end of the stable he picked up a bridle meant for a small pony and the stable master's old riding crop from where it hung by the door. A suitable length of reins was close by.
He returned to find her exactly as he had left her, arms stretched above her, legs wide.
“Good girl,” he murmured, setting down his findings so he could stroke her neck and chest, enjoying how her nipples stiffened further beneath the brush of his hand. He stood back and took the scene in, wondering where to start.
Blinders.
From the pocket of his jacket he pulled a clean handkerchief and fashioned it into a blindfold. Bobbie twisted her head, shaking her long hair when he tried to wrap it over her eyes. He got it in place then stood back and watched her try to work it off, rubbing her face against her arms.
“Naughty girl,” he frowned, and her body tensed instinctively at the displeasure in his tone. Taking the reins, he folded them in his hand, leaving a long loop at the end. This he brought down on her backside, leaving a bright red stripe across the shapely swell of her ass, below the string of her thong.
She cried out, writhing against the rope that bound her wrists, but she kept her legs open, back arched, pushing her ass out further.
Fredric whipped her twice more before putting the reins back down. She was panting, forehead resting against the stall wall, and no longer trying to remove the makeshift blindfold.
Picking up the bridle, he adjusted it to a size that he thought would fit. He put the bit to her lips and she balked nervously at the feel of the cold steel. Making a clicking sound with his tongue like he would do with his mares, he pressed the bit to her lips again. Bobbie hesitated, then took it gently between her teeth.
“Good girl,” Fredric spoke softly, reassuringly, and he stroked her head as he brought the leather straps up and around, fixing them in place. He was rewarded with another low moan, watching as he did up the buckles how she pressed her chest forward, rubbing her sensitive nipples against the rough planking that made the wall. It was a sight more arousing than anything he had seen before, making him lick his lips, impatient to continue, greedy for more.
Fredric came behind her and ran his fingers down her spine. She shivered beneath the touch. Caressing over the red marks he'd made on her bottom, his hand slipped between her legs and cupped her mound, finding the fabric of her panties soaked with warm juices. Bobbie ground her hips down, rubbing against his palm. He stroked her back with his free hand and there was no resistance as he pushed the small bit of material between her legs aside to slide two fingers into her eager hole.
The girl made a muffled sound around her bit and her inner muscles spasmed tightly. Fredric couldn't believe it but she was cumming already. Pressing harder against her most tender inner place, he undid his pants and took out his aching cock, which he quickly used to replace his fingers.
Bobbie's body jerked as he entered, stretching her open. She rose up on tiptoe to accommodate him, her voice a hoarse, drawn out wail as she continued to cum. Fredric pounded into her, pushed past the limits of his restraint by her display. He held tight to her hips as she drove herself back onto him, devouring him with her cunt. The front of his pants became soaked, the scent of her musk and cum overriding the horses and the hay and the damp earth of the rain.
Fredric felt himself coming close to bursting inside her.
“Is this what you want, Bobbie?” he gasped, thrusting harder. “Naked in my stable, tied up like one of my horses, and fucked like the little slut you are?”
She whimpered, nodding fiercely.
Fredric groaned, removing himself at the last second to jet his silky white cream over the raw globes of her ass, stroking himself hard to milk every last drop, wiping himself clean on her skin.
She slouched weakly against the wall and he put a hand beside her head, bracing himself up as he panted, her body tucked safely beneath his.
After a long moment he went to retrieve his jacket and her clothing, coming back to release her hands from the wall, taking off the blindfold as he did. Before he let her dress, he commanded her to kneel at his feet.
She lowered herself obediently and looked up at him, pretty blue eyes shinning in adoration and exhaustion, eager to serve, eager to please.
Very gently he undid the bridle, taking the bit from between her lips. He handed it to her along with the as yet unused crop.
“Bobbie, you will bring these with you each time you come to visit my estate,” he instructed.
She took them with both hands, her eyes lighting up in wonder. “Yes, Sir,” she breathed excitedly.
“'Yes, Master,'” he corrected her.
“Yes, Master,” she blushed, then smiled.
“Good girl,” he said, then he let her put her dress back on and he led her back up to the house to warm herself by the fire.
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