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What Would Aristippus Think

By Raziel Moore
Invisible Lines (Novella)

by Robert Buckley © 2005

They were the keepers of standards, emblems of the well-mannered life and divas of deportment. They were the wives, mothers and daughters of the scions of old money—the oldest money. They arrived individually at the polo club, driven to the front door, and then helped from the vehicles by their chauffeurs with military precision.

They allowed the handsome, ruddy-faced prep school boys to take their arms and escort them to the foyer where they huddled briefly before proceeding to the room set aside for their deliberations.

When they emerged they would bear the name of one lucky child selected to receive a full scholarship to the university of their choice. It was the annual selection of the John Forbes Rust Foundation Endowment, and it always opened polo season at the club.

Hopeful candidates and their parents were kept in a corral-like area where club members could view them, even talk with them. Out of earshot of the press, members snickered and referred to the area as "the petting zoo."

Agatha Rust led her three companions, as was her right and duty, toward the book room. She had been a beauty in her youth who attracted a dizzying array of suitors. Naturally, her parents chose for her, Damon Sears Rust. He had passed on just two years before, leaving her as head of the family foundation.

She strode ahead of the others with regal bearing, her jaw line square and tight, no doubt a condition created by a lifetime of speaking through clenched teeth.

In her wake followed Andrea Maitland, Abigail Prentice and Sarah Stafford—the committee. Abigail and Sarah's ancestry predated the Mayflower by several centuries, but Andrea's bloodlines were rather dubious. She had married well and ingratiated herself with the others, so she was voted onto the committee. It was Andrea who suggested the stories, although she deferred to Agatha who claimed the idea as her own. For four years it had become their ritual.

The club was crowded, as would be expected of the opening of the season, but members deferentially cleared the ladies' path to the handsome book room where they would deliberate. Once inside, the heavy oaken doors were closed behind them by white-gloved ushers.

Agatha plopped into a cushioned seat and exhaled a sigh, like a man who had been holding his stomach in. Andrea slid into her seat like a cat, exactly opposite Agatha. Abigail, eyes cast down, gently descended into her seat while Sarah fussed with her clothing and clutch purse before settling in.

"Well, now, let's get down to the real business of our meeting. Who shall begin?" Agatha asked, her cool gray eyes narrowing at Abigail.

A visible shiver ran up Abigail's back. "Oh, no, not me. Please, someone else start."

Agatha frowned as Abigail folded and unfolded her tiny hands, her eyes fixed to the mahogany table.

"I'll start," Sarah said, suddenly perky and attentive.

"Very well, proceed, dear."


"My story is about our trip to Africa, that is, I with my husband, Chad. You see, we went on a safari. Unfortunately, our guide was not quite reliable, and he led us into an area that had been closed off because tourists had been abducted.

"Well, it happened to us. We were photographing zebra when the largest, blackest men I never imagined just emerged from the bush, like ghosts risen out of the ground. They surrounded us, and since we had no weapons, there was no chance of escape. They, on the other hand, were well armed with both guns and spears.

"Their leader looked to be about seven feet tall. He ordered his men to loot our belongings. Then he approached me. He leered at my body and reached out and touched my hair. I pulled away, but he grabbed a fistful and yanked me to the ground. Chad tried to intervene but he was felled with one punch to his stomach. They all began to laugh then.

"I was pulled by my hair to my feet and we were marched into the bush. Behind us we heard the screams of our entourage as who-knows-what tortures were inflicted on them.

"We walked for hours and exhaustion was turning my legs into gelatin. I collapsed on the trail and begged them for a chance to rest. The leader stood over me and grinned through huge ivory teeth. Then he said, 'You must earn your rest.'

"I looked up and told him I didn't understand, until he extracted his manhood from his khaki shorts. Oh my God, it was a thick as my thigh, and gleamed like onyx from a sheen of perspiration. 'Pleasure me!' he demanded.

"I tried to refuse, I really did, but when I tried to stand, my legs just would not support me. Finally, I acquiesced, and on my knees, I clasped that huge club of black flesh in my tiny pale hands. He thrust his hips at me, then I could hear Chad crying out, 'No, Sarah, for God's sake.' But, I was doing it as much for him as for me.

"I kissed the purple knob of his cock, and licked away the bulb of nectar that oozed from the tip. The brute grinned. Then I tried to take it into my mouth. My lips were stretched so much and my jaw ached from the weight of it. Then he grabbed the back of my head and began to thrust—he was fucking my face in front of my dear husband. I was so mortified, but then the company of savages burst into laughter and one pointed at my crotch. It was soaked with my juices. I couldn't help it. Meanwhile, I could hear Chad's sobs, but for some reason it just drove me to give this brute the sucking of his life.

"I felt other hands on me, then my clothing being ripped away. A loud grunt presaged a powerful ejaculation that rocketed a stream of semen into my throat. I gulped like a woman dying of thirst.

"His cock slipped from my mouth, it had barely subsided in size. I fell back, totally naked on the ground. Then the monster said, 'Now, you will pleasure my men.'

"That's how I was taken, by as many as twenty of these Abyssinian savages. At times, each of my orifices was filled and I was still expected to manually pleasure one or two other men. But after they were through violating me they allowed me to rest. I was covered in their spunk and they would not let me wash.

"The next day we were marched to a village, where I was given as a gift to the head man. He promptly bent me over a huge drum and plundered me as the inhabitants cheered. Then, to acknowledge that he had surrendered his dominion over me, Chad was forced to suck the head man's cock clean. He was later led away by the village women who forced him to wear women's clothing as a symbol of his submission.

"We were redeemed only after weeks of negotiations, but I am ruined now and crave violation by huge savage cocks."

*               *               *

"Hmm." Agatha's lips curled into the tight smile. "Well, Sarah, that was a delightfully tawdry tale. Rather derivative, don't you think?"

"Well, I ..."

"Rather like 'Tarzan' or something."

Sarah nodded and meekly folded her hands. Agatha turned to Abigail. "Well, dear, are you ready?"

"No, no please, not yet."

"Oh, very well, then I'll go next."


"It is the end of polo season, and I am to present the cup to that rogue Argentine player, Ramon de los Santos. He's the one who boasts of creating a thousand cuckolds. The man's life is just one ongoing scandal.

"So I carry the cup to the stage set up on the field where Ramon waits with the other dignitaries. I step up and hold it out to him, and say, 'Congratulations, sir, your prize ...'

"Without warning he knocks the cup from my hands. I am shocked, flabbergasted, I can't speak. Then Ramon says, 'I will choose my prize.'

"He grabs the material of my bodice in his fist and rips my dress right off my body. I can't move; I'm stunned. Then he makes quick work of my bra and panties. I am standing in front of the entire club naked, trying to cover myself with my hands and arms. No one is intervening and I'm shaking from fright and embarrassment.

"I am slapped. 'There,' he says, 'now I have your attention.' He takes my arm and roughly pushes me off the stage and onto the turf. "Kneel!' he demands.

"No one is coming to my aid. I'm shaking, but I comply. Then he unzips his jodhpurs and withdraws his cock. It is long and smooth—nut brown and burnished. He doesn't have to say anything. I take it into my mouth. A gasp escapes the crowd, but then a smattering of applause. His cock is alive in my mouth, pulsing, twitching. I fondle his balls hoping they will soon eject the cream of his essence into my ravished face. But he withdraws and pushes me down on all fours.

"Ramon waves to the crowd. 'Allow me to introduce my new mount.' A cheer goes up, then he is straddling my hips. His cock slips into me like a hot knife into butter because I am absolutely flowing. He yells, 'Gidyap!' and rides me, each thrust like a post. His fist balls my hair which he uses like reins. All the while his cock is stabbing at my core until a bubble begins to expand inside me. Ramon grunts, ejecting his come deep inside me, and then the bubble bursts. Wave after wave of pleasure reverberates inside my cunt.

"Ramon withdraws, trailing tendrils of his come from my cunt. He waves again to the stands and the crowd erupts in cheers. I am so mortified. A young man brings a bridle to Ramon. He slips the bit in my mouth and leads me off the field on all fours. He leads me all the way to the stables where the stable hands point and laugh at the sight of me. Finally, Ramon pushes me into an empty stall and announces that I am his gift to the stable personnel. When he leaves they fall on me, and I am forced to take their greasy brown cocks in every orifice. No one ever comes for me and in time I become just the stable whore, to be used anyway by anyone."

*               *               *

Andrea cackled. "Oh, Agatha, I never would have suspected you of being a polo groupie."

Agatha responded with that half-grin, half-snarl.

"Now, I insist on going last," Andrea said, "So, Abigail, no more procrastinating. Get on with your story."

Abigail lifted her eyes from the table. "Well, all right. Here goes."


"My maid, Silencia, is a very sweet and pretty girl. She has been a great comfort to me the many times when Edward is away. We get on like two special girlfriends, even though she is so much younger than me, of course. There is loveliness, an innocent vitality that shows in her eyes and which captivated me from the day I saw her.

"Her body is petite and curvy and so—snuggable—I want to touch her so badly. I decide to confess my desires to her, and to my relief and joy she nods and gives me permission. I begin to undress her, unbuttoning her uniform and slipping it off her shoulders. She wears no bra, and her small breasts are so lovely, and perky. The tiniest white bikini remains. I slide it down her thighs and have to kneel at her feet to take them all the way off. She is beautiful. I rise slowly and kiss her tummy, and then I caress one of her breasts. I kiss her cheek, but she quickly kisses my lips, a perfect stolen kiss.

"I lead her to the bath and fill the tub. I perfume the water and gesture to her to sit. She lays back, totally beautiful, totally relaxed as I begin to bathe her. The sweet darling nods off. I awake her with butterfly kisses.

"Finally, I help her from the bath and towel her dry. I lead her to my bedroom and have her lie back on the bed, her legs dangle over the edge. I fall to my knees and spread her pink, moist flower with my fingers. Her clit peeks from its hood. I begin to lick around it, and kiss her nether lips. She makes such sweet sounds, gentle angel sighs. Her belly flutters and she moans. Meanwhile I finger my own pussy bringing myself closer to climax.

"That is when Edward walks in. At first he is taken aback, but I see his eyes, and they are devouring Silencia's body. I stand and gesture to him to come over. I look down at Silencia, and she nods and smiles. Edward climbs onto the bed; he sheds his trousers and mounts Silencia. I step back and watch. They are so beautiful together. I finger myself furiously in rhythm to Edward's thrusts as his cock spears my beautiful angel.

"That night, Silencia takes my place in my husband's bed, and it is I who becomes her maid. My only purpose is to pamper my mistress, and take my nourishment from her well-fucked cunt. I am so happy."

*               *               *

One eyebrow bent into a cathedral-high arch, as Agatha rasped, "My, oh my, Abigail, still waters do indeed run deep.

Abigail blushed. "I—I hope it was—appropriate to the occasion."

"Stunning, dear," Andrea assured her. "But it's my turn."


"I believe you all know my friend, Jeannine. But you probably don't know she has a daughter—just 20 years old and, if you can believe it, a virgin. Really, the girl is saving herself for marriage. In fact, she's engaged. He's a handsome young man, but not terribly experienced, if you get my meaning.

"Well, Audra is lovely, dark chestnut hair, a pale complexion, a body at its peak of womanly perfection. She has always regarded me as a sort of favorite aunt.

"Well you know me, there's something about innocence that makes me want to—oh, you know, spoil it.

"So she was over the house the other day and we were having drinks on the veranda. She was going on and on about Peter, and what a happily-ever-after they were going to have. She didn't realize I was spiking her lemonade and after a while the darling girl had quite a buzz.

"I asked her if she was prepared for her wedding night and she reiterated how she and Peter had vowed to save each other. Puhleeeze. You know I couldn't have that.

"At that precise moment, Tadjic, my gardener, came into view. He is some sort of Balkan mongrel, Albanian I think, and a perfectly beautiful brute. He insists on working bare-chested, and darlings, he is all rippling muscle—and hairy. I mean nearly ape-hairy. Like I said, a brute.

"I noticed Audra notice. She also noticed the bulge in Tadjic's tight jeans. It was at that moment that I suggested that every woman should be animal-fucked by just such a man before she surrenders herself to a husband's bed exclusively.

"The silly girl blushed and tittered, but her eyes did not leave Tadjic. I think perhaps liquor makes her deaf too, because she got so loud.

"I egged her one, saying, 'Really, dear, be honest. Aren't you the least bit curious how it would feel to have that hunk of man between your legs? How large do you suppose his cock is?'

"Audra giggled. 'I couldn't say, but judging from the bulge, I would guess it's pretty big.'

"Of course, the poor girl doesn't realize she is practically shouting. Tadjic suddenly looks straight at her and grins. Audra gasps.

"I call to Tadjic, 'Tad, darling, come here and show Audra your cock, please.'

"Well, the girl is so embarrassed and squirms in her seat, but I notice she is also cupping her crotch. 'No, please, really ...' she keeps mumbling.

"Tadjic approaches. He steps right up to her so his groin is level with her chin, then without any ceremony he unzips his jeans and pulls out this monster. Ladies, I do not exaggerate, one could beat a small dog to death with a weapon that long and thick.

"Audra's eyes were just about bugging out of her skull and her mouth opened in a perfect 'O'. I half-expected Tadjic to pole it right through her lips. Instead, he says, "You want touch?'

"The girl can't react. She's a bird hypnotized by a viper. He takes her hand and claps it onto his man tool. And didn't that girl's body just shiver like a leaf in the wind?

"Then Tadjic says, 'You want I fuck your cunt? I stretch pussy good.'

"The poor girl, she begins to simper and whimper, 'No, please, I can't, I'm engaged, please don't ...'

"But Tadjic is relentless. His huge hammy hands closed on her halter and ripped it away from her body. Her bra came off with it, but hung off one shoulder. Then her shorts went next. Such powerful hands. You wouldn't recognize they were shorts from the shredded fabric he tossed away without any regard.

"Then—oh, you're going to love this—Tadjic grins down at poor Audra as the girl futilely tries to cover herself and says, 'Now we have some boompety-boom.'

"He lifts her into his arms and waddles—because his jeans are around his ankles—to the lounger. Audra is protesting of course, 'No please, I'm a virgin, I'm engaged ... blah-blah-blah.'

"Tadjic is having none of her nonsense. He kneels astride her and takes her hands and places them on his throbbing meat. 'There, you put me inside your pussy—now!'

"She does! She pulls that torpedo of a cock right into her weeping cunt. I can see the muscles in Tadjic's back contract and his ass cheeks flex as he thrusts into her. She is all squirmy and whiny as first, but as he picks up speed she begins to thrash and scream.

"Between grunts Tadjic taunts her, 'You like fuck ... you dirty girl.'

"The girl is panting furiously, but manages to answer, 'No, please, you're raping me.' Of course, she has her legs wrapped around his hips and is meeting each of his thrusts with her own. So, I decide to add my two cents.

"'Audra,' I scold. 'You filthy little cunt. How dare you fuck this man on my veranda? What a whore you are.'

"Her first orgasm hit her, so I continued to pile it on. 'A whore bride, that's what you'll be, trailing this animal's come down the aisle. Well, you are a whore, aren't you? You might as well admit it.'

"Another orgasm shakes her and she moans, "Please, no, I'm not ...' Then, 'Oh, God, yes, I'm a whore ... don't stop, please ...'

"Tadjic laughs. 'Tell me what you want!'

"And poor Audra—well she's just insane by now—she yells, 'Fuck me! Please, fuck me, don't stop!'

"Ladies, you have no idea how much self restraint I had to call on, watching that brute piston his monster pole in and out of that girl's cunt. I wanted to jump him myself. But I was so fascinated. At one point she just went limp and glassy-eyed, lost total body control, and Tad pummeled her like a rag doll. Oh, it was a sight.

"But things got even more wicked when poor Peter came by to pick up the love of his life. I met him at the door. Such a sweet young man, very beefcake and prep-school wholesome. Naturally I prepared him for a shock. Oh, I was wicked. I led him thorough the house just near enough to the veranda where he could see his lady love through the glass door being pounded like a cheap whore.

"Well, ladies, he staggered—truly, just staggered, and I thought the poor boy would collapse dead away. I put a comforting arm around him and said, 'Now there, Peter, I know how upsetting this must be for you. Your bride-to-be is a wanton slut, but, dear, you must understand how it is for a woman who craves a big cock. She really can't help herself, and she's still a sweet girl.'

"Well he began to sob, poor thing. So I led him to where he would get even a better view and sat him down. He just crumbled with each and every cry or moan from his well-fucked sweetheart. He was in such a state, he didn't even realize I had unzipped him and extracted his lovely cock. Oh, it wasn't nearly as big as Tadjic's, but it was lovely smooth.

"I began to stroke him to rigidity, telling him how lucky he was to be engaged to a girl who loved a good cunt pounding. I made him look are her. 'There,' I said. 'Isn't she beautiful? There's no sight more beautiful than a girl being ravished by a big meaty cock. Say it,' I told him. 'Say she's beautiful.'

"He hiccupped through his sobs, but managed to rasp, 'She's so beautiful.'

"'You like it don't you? You like watching your girl get fucked. It's okay, dear, it's nothing to be ashamed of, really, and you said she looks beautiful. Look how she writhes beneath him trying to pull him deeper into her cunt. Yes, you love watching a big-cocked man fuck your lady love.'

"Well, that was all it took. He came in my hand. I had him then. He looked down at himself and he turned crimson. I held up my hand, all glazed with his luscious come. Meanwhile, Tadjic gave Audra one last heave and shot his load into the slut. The sight of that cock snaking back out of her gaping cunt, trailing strings of fuck cream got my juices simmering.

"But, I dismissed him. I had other plans to play with a pair of new toys. Audra, when she came to her senses cried like a baby when she saw Peter. Shame tainted her pale body from top to toes. 'Stop carrying on,' I scolded her. 'Peter now knows what a craven slut you are. Look at him and his drooling cock. He watched, and he liked it, so we know what kind of man he is. But, this incident can remain our secret.'

"Their heads were hanging to their knees—so pathetic. I said, 'You will get married. I'll not have you disappoint your families, but from now on you belong to me, and if you don't comprehend what that means, then I shall instruct you right now. Audra, you will get on you knees and eat my cunt. Peter, you will watch and stroke that lovely boy cock until it is nice and hard for me to make use of it.'

"Audra mustered some faint resistance. 'But ...' she said. Then her body sagged with resignation. I lay back on the lounger on which she'd just been ravished and she meekly knelt and put her face into my hungry cunt. I let her bring me to the edge, then I had Peter lie down so I could ride him.

"It's a wonderful arrangement. I have always wanted to own a couple."

*               *               *

They were silent for a moment before Agatha commented. "Andrea, you are a twisted, evil bitch."

"Aren't I, though?" She snickered.

"Well then, ladies," Agatha rapped the table with her palm. "On to that other business. Who are we awarding the scholarship to?"

"Beejal Naterjee," Abigail replied.

"Good heavens, is that a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, she's the daughter of Marion Cabot's housekeeper."

"Oh well, another contribution to the Third World," Agatha sniffed. "All right, let us make the announcement. It's the beginning of polo season, after all."

"Is Ramon playing today?" Andrea asked in a kittenish voice.

"But of course," Agatha said, grinning.

The ladies of the committee rose as one, gathered their things, and proceeded to fulfill their social obligations. It was, after all, their lot, and their duty.

© 2005 Robert Buckley. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio:  Who is Robert Buckley? Read his bio on the Erotica Readers & Writers Association website.

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by P. E. Brink

Post Mortem
by Riccardo Berra

Newly Reformed Woman...
by Seneca Mayfair

by Sybil Rush

by Teresa Lamai

Alter Christus
by Teresa Wymore

Shadows of De La Rosa
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