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. The Little Bitch Tara

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by Lutheran Maid, Sep 2, 2017.

. The Little Bitch Tara 4.5 5 2votes
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  1. Lutheran Maid

    Lutheran Maid Well-Known Member Author!

    I admit it. I'd certainly give that little bitch Tara a length. Only nineteen, but she had the attitude that she ruled the fucking world. Spoilt little bitch. The sort of spoilt little bitch that assumed that if you have a double barrelled surname, then you're born to privilege. She was spoilt too. I mean what nineteen your old do you know who owns a Jaguar sports car and rides a ten grand horse in the local hunt? Spoilt daddy's girl. Fucking Cartier on her wrist, pearls about her throat, you know the type. Autumn came around last year though and I had a revelation day. I was working around the estate yard when Tara came back from a ride down along the river. She looked fucking great in riding boots and cream jodphurs. She looked really bloody horny, you could see a wet patch on the crotch of her jodphurs. They would tell you its horse sweat, but I'd offer a single response, 'saddle'. Spoilt little bitch's like Tara get off on riding a horse hard. Normally Tara smiles at me. I think she knows that I have a thing about her. But I don't get granted a conversation. You know, I'm just one of daddy's employees. She came over to me having handed the horse over to the groom to rub down. Her eyes, nut brown beneath her bob cut raven black hair, wow, they looked mischievous. We small talked.

    'Off to university soon enough then Miss Tara' I started.

    'I might delay that, Papa wants me to do a year learning the management of the estate. He wants me to take over whilst he travels.'

    I try to imagine a nineteen year old managing a country estate this size. It's hard to imagine. But then again, then again, Tara is a fucking ruthless little bitch.

    'I want you to be my head gamekeeper Mark, ' she said with a suggestive look, ' I think we might retire Beddows.'

    She would do that. Fucking hell, she would. She would kick old Beddows out. You see, the shoot, amongst other things, is all about inviting posh and expensive paying guests to blast pheasants out of the air. It's the right set for Madam, the right set, just like the local hunt people. The thought of a promotion excites me. Tara knows it too.

    'I think you might have more drive Mark. I need men with attitude.'

    I nodded, 'thank you Miss Tara.'

    She went to turn and then the 'after thought' caught her. Yeah…after thought.

    'I wonder Mark, whether you might do something for me at the shoot tomorrow?'

    Her eyes twinkled. You just know it sometimes, some women are bred to be bitches. She was one of them.

    'Anything Miss' I respond.

    She paused, measuring me with those eyes.

    'Charles is with us for the shoot, would you humiliate him for me?'

    The question comes left field. Bloody hell. It's direct. it's bloody direct! I must have frowned. Tara though is going on clarifying.

    'Charles has never shot before, so I hoped that you would teach him whilst he is on the line. Don't kid glove him, make him feel a fool. I want you to make him feel a fool in front of me and the other guests.'

    For a split second I picture Tara in her cartridge belt, she is fucking sexy looking. She uses a twelve bore shotgun like she uses the Jaguar, decisively. I guess that all the guests want to fuck her. They would I promise. Charles though, Charles the fiancé. Charles the wealthy fiancé?

    She moves closer to me. Her hand strokes my arm, the Cartier santos slipping down onto her wrist.

    'He has to be tested Mark…as a man. I need to see how he responds to humiliation…do you see?'

    I'm not sure I do see. i could get sacked for that kind of show. i could lose my job.

    'Women reward men of the right calibre Mark, that's what instinctive for us…' she looked suggestively into my eyes, 'daddy won't be a problem. You know that daddy would never cross me. I will tell him that I instructed you if Charles kicks up a fuss. I need you to push him hard Mark, you know, to dominate him.'

    She can't be nineteen. She can't be. She seems as wily as a fox. Her eyes, shit, they are so sexy. She is so sex alert. I think I'm reading her straight. Her mouth lingers on the words, open, suggestive.

    'I need some one to test whether he is man enough to handle me….do you think that you could do that?'

    'Yes Miss' I breath.

    'Thank you' she whispers huskily. She kisses me lightly. On the lips. She looks 'that way' to me. I watch her turn. I watch her walk slowly away. Her lovely arse in the jodphurs moving, moving. She acknowledges the groom for his efforts..

    'Thank you Jones'

    There, there it is. When I think of it, I'm the only one who gets called by my first name.


    The next day Tara sends Beddows to lead the beaters whilst i am in charge of the shooting line, over which the pheasants will be driven. Beddows looks sunk. All that walking through brambles. But Miss Tara will have her way. She wants Beddows put in his place and she wants me next to her and Charles on the line. The way she wears a cartridge belt emphasises her lovely hips, the mound of her sex. You can guess everything looking at her in the tight sage green breeches. Charles has a new under and over barrelled shotgun. Its costly, its probably unsuitable. It's fucking spoilt.

    'You used this before?' I snap at him. No 'sir' you understand. Tara watches. Charles, white faced, city boy, blushes. No he hasn't.

    'Well you will stand by me and I will teach you how to use it. If you wave that thing around on the line, if you ever endanger any other gun my friend, I will personally take you aside and kick seven shades of shit out of you.'

    You can see this winds the fucker. You can see he is stung. Alright, he might need guidance, but the fellow is very abrupt! He flusters, and Tara smiles. He is going to say something smart arsed to me. I see Tara watching me, so I get in first,

    'You do as you're fucking told. I don't understand why his lordship allows an inexperienced gun on the line, but if you're here you will do as I tell you. Do you understand?' My face is inches from his.

    He blanches, 'yes sir' he murmurs. Tara watches.

    I check the line. The whistle goes as the beaters set out and I take the gun from weak man Charles. Tara is buzzed up about this. I spot her little look of disdain. Charles, you really should have taken some lessons. Instead of taking cartridges from my bag, I take them two at a time from Tara's belt. The first two come from just above her crotch. She watches Charles as I do it. Fuck, what a neat little body she has. What a fucking sap he is. I am going to make sure the little fucker fails this test. I am going to have Tara. I load the shotgun and take out two cock pheasants with my first two shots. They were splitting left and right and very high.

    'Shot sir!' came the exclamation from our neighbour. Tara smiles. Charles is speechless.

    The little bitch is beside me then, easy to hand, easy to take cartridges from, off the belt, off her crotch. Charles, well Charles is pushed to one side. He is getting agitated.

    'Stop fucking fidgeting man' i snap at him. Tara watches. He stands silent. There, his head has dropped now. He is sullen.

    'Mark is an excellent shot Charles, you should learn from him' Tara says calmly.

    As if to demonstrate I exaggerate the sweep of the gun, following the flight of the pheasant with a converging arch of my own. Bang and the gun dog is sent to retrieve.

    Lunchtime arrives. We have staff who set out a rustic table of food and beer in a large barn near where the next drive will take place. Tara whispers,

    'You could ruin him completely, destroy his self esteem I suppose. I love how you are with him. i love your authority'.

    I have a rock hard erection. My fucking dick is iron solid. I can feel it move in my pants. She knows. Humiliate the man. She really wants me to press his fucking button. I'm to put the little fucker down. Somehow, somehow, this isn't just about criticism any more…is it? It's like a game of Russian roulette. The fucking stakes, fuck the stakes, they're astronomical. I reckon I can smack the little shit, beat him easily, but the consequences. Fucking hell.

    'You took the cartridges from my belt to hurt him didn't you?' she whispers softly.


    'You know how it is….about sex Mark?'


    She wanders away to greet other shooting guests. There is a swanky financier out from Birmingham. A black guy, a good gun and a friend of his. They're new. There are new women too, wives and girlfriends, all from good schools and University, you know. Tara chats amiably about the best drives. The top wood, this afternoon, it is promising. Tara is already a poised lady, a hostess.

    I find Charles and I think go for it. Fucking go for it. You can have that little bitch. She'll know when you move. She misses nothing.

    'I need a work' i say to the hapless Charles. 'Come with me'.

    The guy is actually trembling. He drops the slice of game pie and follows like a fucking lamb. His face is pasty white. Little shit.

    I lead him through the other side of the barn and out to a store area where I keep grain to feed the pheasants. In the shafts of sunlight you can see the dust from the floor swirl. I turn suddenly on the guy.

    'I think you're wasting your time with Tara, she is out of your league matey.'

    I know it. I know she is. In tight jodphurs or those breeches I know she is. The little bitch oozes sex.

    But Charles doesn't yet know. However much he senses the class in his fiancé he isn't sure that the likes of me should be reading him the lines. He starts to object.

    I catch him with an upper cut. It connects his weak jaw and sends his head back with a jerk. The look of horror on his face is a picture. No going back. There is no going back now. He starts to put his open hand up to push me away but I get the push in first and send him sprawling. There, he hits the floor and a cloud of dust explodes up in the sunlight.

    'I think that you should admit to Tara that you're not exactly first rate…' I sneer advancing on him.

    Fuck. The thought that the little nineteen year old bitch provokes all this! But I want her, I know I do! Charles scrambles up, swearing about getting me dismissed and I push him back down. Right now, I don't fucking care. I don't want him sniffing around Tara. I fucking well don't!

    For a moment I don't notice Tara enter the room. But Charles does. On all fours he stares up at her as she quietly takes station just inside the old wooden door. She isn't joining him. There is no intervention, no objection to what I do. She is watching, measuring. May be then, may be I show her whether Charles puts up with a hiding. Men fight over women. That is what happens. That is nature. She watches, a hand on hip, now glancing at him now at me.

    I kick him in the ribs and he whimpers.

    Tara watches. Her eyes are challenging him. He falters.

    'Please….no more Mark….please no more….' Charles begs.

    I stand over him, scrunching his fucking fingers under my boot.

    'Tell her, you're not good enough for her…apologise' I snarl.

    He shudders. His whole fucking body shakes. He stares wildly at her as she waits for the coup de grace. She looks stunning beautiful, radiant, cock hard sensuous.

    'Tell her!!' I snap when he hesitates.

    'Sorry, sorry…..I'm so sorry….' he whimpers, staring down into the dust, 'I'm not good enough Tara'.

    I glance at her. There. He's been bested. He's been kicked down and his nose run through the dirt. He was never good enough for you. He was never man enough to handle you. I know that. I know it!

    I will finish it. I will finish it so that she will never consider him ever again. I unzip my fly. Tara watches. She watches wide eyed. It's like this is hot out of all expectation. She never imagined did she… I pull my prick out and click my fingers. He has to suck it. Tara stares at him. He going to do it? He going to suck cock? Loser.

    Charles looks up at me, desperation sprawled across his face like a mouldy blanket. He blinks the dust, he whimpers in the direction of Tara. She is unmoved, her face hard now.

    'Suck my cock…like a loser' I tell him nastily.

    Tara stares. You can see her tense. You can see she's aroused.

    I hold my tool. Bettering him gives me an erection. Seeing her excited gives me an erection. Slowly, reverently, Charles' s head comes boss cock's way. I can't resist smiling. You bite mate and I will shove that fucking gun where the sun doesn't shine. He licks my cock. Just the bare glans. He licks it again and i gesture ring with my fingers. He's to suck the fucker. His lips close over my shaft and there, there, the little fucker is sucking.

    'Thank you Mark' I hear her whisper.

    I pull Charles head onto my cock. I want the fucking tool down his throat. He gasps as I work his head back and forth. I'm showing off. I feel triumphant. May be it was like this long ago. No airs and graces, just the rewards for the fittest. I tell the little fucker, 'she too well bred for you mate, too well bred to lie with a pompous little shit like you. '

    I go to speak to Tara in the doorway and there are two of them.

    There are two of them.

    Tara, another….Tara…..the other guy?

    I gawp at her.

    The black guy from Birmingham is beside her. The big black business man. He chuckles. He has his dirty big paws around Tara, around her waist from behind and down onto her crotch. She lets him kiss her neck and then looks back to him.

    'It's OK Wesley, I had Mark do it for us, Charles won't be a problem now…will you Charles?'

    He grunts approval and starts to snog her. She is snogging the fucking guy. Charles winces. I look down and can see tears rolling down his cheeks. Stupid little fucker. I drag his face back and forth some more.

    I'm angry. No, I'm not, I'm awed. Fuck! Little bitch. He is tonguing her casually and she is taking it. She is nineteen!

    'You want him sent packing?' drawls the black dude.

    She considers the question.

    'I suppose so….yes' she muses.

    Black guy. Rich black guy. Right skin. Right attitude. It figures. Fucking shit, it does.

    The black dude kisses her again, slowly.

    'It best I think, he bend, but he bend too quick, no sport huh?' black dude observes.

    Tara nods. Her pretty young face, her freckled face. He has been fucking her. He has been fucking her. That's why she looks so fucking hot.

    'Yes Wes..I love you' she mews. He glances in my direction. I'm to march the also ran off the estate. I'm to have him disappear down the lane with one of the estate hands. He can leave his gun behind for Wesley. I drag shit face off my cock, zip my fly, grab him by the collar of his jacket and do the logistics. Charles looks trashed, utterly trashed. I push him in the land rover and the driver takes him away to the train station.

    By the time I return to the group it is almost time for the first afternoon drive. Wesley gathers his gear up. Tara comes my way.

    'I will tell Beddows this afternoon that you are now the head keeper, ' she said simply.

    Fucking reward. That's a fucking reward. I scowl at her. I am fucking wrecked too. The little bitch.

    'What did you expect' she whispered, 'that i would go with you? But you're a game keeper for Christ's sake. '

    I feel my hands clench. I am fucking furious. I've been used.

    'Wrong coloured skin Miss Tara, I suppose that's it' I hissed.

    She checked her watch. Wasn't it time for the next drive? I nodded. Then, as an afterthought she said,

    'Wrong skin, wrong income, wrong breeding Mark. But you will go places, if you do as you're told. You will go places.'
    3ballz and Frobisher like this.
  2. 3ballz

    3ballz Member Member

    I love the combination of snobbery and humiliation in this story. Splendid stuff Lutheranmaid.
    Frobisher and sexyboots like this.
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