by Penny Birch
‘Follow me,’ she ordered suddenly, evidently having decided on a suitable punishment for us.
We stood and followed as she left the yard and took the path that led down to the boathouse. Most of her bottom showed under her T-shirt, the gloriously full globes wobbling slightly as she walked, covered only by a thin strip of bright blue material. I’d never really had a play with Ginny’s bottom and was hoping that whatever she had in mind involved plenty of attention to it.
She seemed hesitant at the boathouse, as if unsure how to punish us. She did make us kneel and kiss her bottom-hole, pulling the bikini pants aside and holding her cheeks apart and presenting us with her anus. I got a delicious submissive thrill as I knelt forward and kissed the tight little ring and then watched Catherine do the same. There’s not much more you can do to acknowledge your submission to someone than kiss their bum-hole, but Ginny gave a most undominant sigh of pleasure as each of us did it to her.
‘Actually,’ she said as her bikini pants snapped back into place, ‘what I’d really like is a good spanking from both of you.’
Ginny was never that good at being in charge; she could never keep her own lust in check long enough. Catherine accepted the change of role with all the innocent enthusiasm of a newcomer, smiling at the prospect of punishing Ginny. We sat on two chairs with our legs interlocked and put her across our knees. I pulled her top up over her breasts and slid my arm under her chest to take hold of them. They felt huge, two great handfuls of flesh, each tipped with a nipple the size of a fruit pastille. Maybe it’s because my own breasts are so small, but seeing a full-breasted girl always gives me the urge to have a really good feel. There was certainly no shortage of Ginny and she moaned as I fondled them, marvelling at their weight and softness. Catherine was waiting patiently, one hand on Ginny’s waist while the other stroked the gorgeous full moon of her bum.
You couldn’t call Ginny fat; her waist was narrow with no more than a hint of roundness to her belly. Fat-bottomed, maybe, and it was amazing how such a luxurious bum managed to stay in such perfect shape. I remembered the first time I had seen her, the same plush bottom that I was now about to smack bouncing as she ran, her tail swishing from side to side over her cheeks.
Now that same girl was over my lap with her gorgeous rump quivering under my fingers as I planted a preparatory slap on the fattest part of it.
‘You can pull her bikini down,’ I told Catherine and then watched as the little scrap of blue material was peeled down, baring the deep division of Ginny’s bottom with a hint of golden fur between the cheeks.
We set to work without further fuss, taking a cheek each. We quickly had Ginny kicking her legs, although she made less fuss about it than either I or Catherine would have done. I expect regular spankings from Michael made our efforts seem rather pathetic, but her fat peach was soon a glowing red while her moans were gaining a familiar urgency. Her hand went back to her pussy and she started to masturbate, begging us to smack harder as her pleasure rose. We did our best, but my hand was stinging when she finally came and I could see that Catherine’s palm was red too. Her orgasm was long and noisy, leaving me with a strong need for my own.
Even as her shudders subsided, I was easing her down to the floor and opening my legs for her attention. She was breathing heavily, looking at my open pussy, her hair plastered to her forehead and her breasts heaving beautifully. As she came forward, I spread my legs as far as they would go and took a big heavy breast in each hand. I’d have liked them in my face, but you can’t have everything and, when her tongue touched my clit, I knew it wouldn’t be long until I came.
‘Put your breasts in my face, please, Katie,’ I asked, intent on getting the best of both worlds.
She complied willingly, rising and holding them together so that my face was pillowed in her cleavage. My position was rather awkward, but it felt exquisite, smothered in plump, female flesh while another girl licked at my clitoris. All three of us were naked or near naked, lost in the pleasure of each other’s bodies. I took
one of Catherine’s nipples in my mouth, thinking of how sweetly she’d let me pull her breasts out of her bra, then I was coming, squeezing Ginny’s plump breasts in my hands and gasping out my ecstasy onto Catherine’s chest, my mouth full of nipple and tit.
‘That leaves you, Katie,’ I said, when I’d had a moment to recover. ‘We’ll do anything you like; but let me tell you something, first. You saw how I’d wet myself on the path?’
‘Yes,’ she answered.
‘Were you turned on by how I looked and by thinking how I must have felt? Or did you just feel sympathetic because I’d had an accident?’
‘Both, a bit,’ she admitted.
‘You wet yourself?’ Ginny asked.
‘On the footpath,’ I admitted. ‘I was a bit drunk and I got caught short. The idea of doing it in my pants was so naughty I couldn’t resist it.’
‘You did it on purpose?’ Catherine exclaimed.
‘Yes,’ I answered, feeling a bit ashamed of myself, despite our intimacy.
‘That’s so dirty. Did you want to be punished for it?’ Ginny asked, smiling knowingly from where she was sitting in front of me.
‘I wanted you to spank me on my wet jeans and then tell Amber,’ I told her.
Catherine had sat down, legs open and one hand on her pussy.
‘You ought to be punished,’ she breathed, spreading her pussy lips and putting a finger on her clit. ‘You filthy little tart. Get down between my legs.’
I knelt hastily, leaning forward to lick her although I didn’t really see pussy-licking as a punishment.
‘Wait,’ she said, my face just inches from her pussy.
‘Maybe this’ll teach you not to be so dirty.’
I thought she meant the licking and looked up to her eyes, my mouth open in preparation for her pussy.
Suddenly a stream of pee erupted from her, catching me full in the mouth. I swallowed, but nothing like enough and it splashed over, running down my chin. My mouth was full of the sharp bitter taste as I rose to catch the stream on my tits, rubbing them as she did it all over me. It ran down my belly and soaked my pussy fur, forming a pool on the floor. I knelt in it and went forward to catch more in my mouth. As the stream died to a trickle, I put my mouth to Catherine’s pussy and started to lick.
Her hand locked in my hair and I found myself kneeling in a pool of her pee while I gave her oral sex. Suddenly, I wanted to come again and put a hand back to feel my pussy. Ginny must have realised because, a moment later, she came behind me and cupped my wet titties in her hands, stroking the nipples and whispering the dirtiest things she could think of in my ear. Her breasts were against my back, my bottom pressed to her belly.
‘I’m going to come, Penny; lick me,’ Catherine gasped as I felt her muscles begin to pulse. I lapped harder at her clit, feeling her tense in response. Then there was a new, warm trickle running down the small of my back and in between the cheeks of my bum. I came as Catherine did, one of Ginny’s fingers finding my wet bottom-hole at the instant I climaxed and slipping inside. For an instant my mind went black at the sheer intensity of it all, then Catherine’s muscles were relaxing and I was rocking back to join Ginny in a heap in the puddle on the floor.
There was a lot of embarrassed giggling as we cleared up, especially from Catherine, but there was also the wonderful sensation of sharing a really dirty secret. I’d tell Amber, of course, and take whatever she invented in the way of punishment, but neither of them felt able to tell their men.
When we’d finally made the boathouse respectable, we began to discuss the following week’s pony-girl meet. Catherine’s attitude had now changed from doubt to enthusiasm, suggesting all sorts of imaginative subtleties that she had previously confined to her fantasies.
After swimming for a bit and then resting while we waited for my clothes to dry, we drove back to the King Billy, collected my car and then met at the Scotts’ house in Broadheath. Michael was already home an
d greeted our suggestions with enthusiasm. I was a little nervous at the prospect of facing Matthew, but when he did arrive there was no difficulty. After all, I knew what his girlfriend had done that afternoon.
Fourteen
I went back to Amber’s with a fair degree of trepidation. After all, I had got rather carried away, and while Ginny had made a big joke of it when she rang and told Amber everything, I wasn’t quite sure if she wouldn’t be genuinely angry or hurt. The first thing I did on arrival was give her a heartfelt apology if I’d upset her. She swore I hadn’t, but I could tell that my assurances were gratefully received. Of course, that didn’t mean I was going to get off, but she decided to sleep on it and contented herself with spanking me before bed.
In the morning, she told me that she was deferring my punishment until the pony-girl meet, adding rather alarmingly that I’d be let off for the rest of the week so that my bottom was nice and fresh for Sunday. We had overwhelmingly voted for her as Mistress of Ceremonies and she took to the task with a will. The main plan was to have several challenge races and a show, interspersed with suitable punishments and rewards for winners and losers. Various girls would also receive correction for misbehaviour, myself included.
She had rung Anna Vale and persuaded her to come, succeeding because the prospect of a chance to play with five pony-girls at once overcame her dislike of a male presence. If she couldn’t handle the little deception Amber and I had played on her, then that was just too bad.
There would be seven women in all, and only four men. Four because she had roped Henry Gresham in as referee, being a noted authority on pony-girls and known by more than half of us. He was also the official photographer, being both experienced and trustworthy.
That was how things stood on the Saturday evening as we set off for the Scotts’. By staying over, we would be able to make the best of the day and add the finishing touches to the organising, with most of us there.
From the onset, there was an atmosphere of suppressed excitement. Not so suppressed in Ginny’s case, as she could barely keep still. The six of us sat round the table, balancing out the details until nearly one in the morning, then retired, each satisfied that she or he would be getting plenty out of the next day’s events.
Personally, I knew that I could rely on the others to give me all the attention and sensation I needed, both as a pony-girl and in the way of punishment. My aim was rather different: to have Amber and Anna Vale as my pony-girls.
The morning was a bustle of activity, with everybody trying to sort themselves out and all of us praying that Arthur Linslade wouldn’t suddenly decide to come over. The weather was firmly on our side, sunny with few clouds and a moderate breeze, perfect for pony-carting. Henry Gresham arrived at ten, Anderson and Vicky somewhat afterwards, and by ten-thirty we were driving up to the old park in a convoy of cars and one horsebox.
I felt light-hearted, excited and keen to play, a mood echoed by the others as we set up the three carts and Vicky and Anderson’s carriage. Amber had also filled the horsebox with paraphernalia: a pillory, a whipping stool, various punishment implements and a great pile of spare tack. When we were finished, the yard was a true pervert’s paradise. Three pony-carts stood at one end, the carriage behind them. To the side, the whipping stool and pillory stood ready, next to a table laid out with devices for just about every sexual curiosity imaginable.
All we needed to start was Anna and Poppy, on whose arrival Amber intended to read out the order of events and kick off the meet. The first spectacle was to be my long-awaited punishment of Ginny, a prospect that I was looking forward to with relish. She was already giving me nervous, excited glances as I stood admiring the selection of goodies that were spread out on the table. I was just trying to choose between cane and strap when Amber hailed us from on top of the carriage.
‘It looks like they’ve chickened out,’ she announced,
‘so let’s start. I think all the introductions have been done. I will be leading the ceremonies and would like to thank you for your support for the post. As referee, we have Mr Henry Gresham, my godfather and a man who trained his first pony-girl before most of us were born. His knowledge is extensive and his decision final, so we’ll have no arguments about tactics, Michael Scott.
‘In between pony-girl events, there will be a number of spectacles designed to correct the behaviour of some of our number. The first of these will be the punishment of Mrs Virginia Scott by Miss Penelope Birch. Penny, you may proceed.’
‘Thank you, Amber,’ I called out to her, then turned back to the table. Ginny was a strapping girl and used to Michael, so I didn’t really need to hold back. On the other hand, I had no idea if she had any particular favourites. She was waiting with Michael, dressed in a simple white dress, naked underneath but for her panties so that she could quickly become a pony-girl. I walked over to them, smiling cheerfully at both and getting a nervous grin back from Ginny.
‘What does she like best?’ I asked Michael boldly.
He gave me the cool, amused smile I’d always enjoyed and put his chin in his hand. ‘Hmm, let me see,’ he said evenly. ‘It’s more a question of what she doesn’t like. You could try giving her an enema.’
‘Michael!’ Ginny protested, the first genuine objection I’d ever heard her make.
‘A dose of the strap usually keeps her in line,’ he continued casually.
‘I’ll strap her, then,’ I replied. ‘Does she ever come without her clit being played with?’
‘Not really,’ Michael told me. ‘In fact, no; never.’
‘Good,’ I answered, ‘then I have an ideal punishment for a girl like her; fat-bottomed, that is. Come on, Ginny.’
I took her by the hand and she followed me meekly across the yard, the others making themselves comfortable to watch her being punished. In practice, I wanted to make it spectacular and effective but I didn’t want to make her too sore to be spanked and whipped later, as she undoubtedly would be.
The pillory was my chosen piece of equipment, a solid wooden affair designed not to be upset by a victim’s struggles. Amber had built it deliberately low so that instead of the conventional position, the offender’s bottom would be higher than their head.
Ginny looked at it apprehensively but bent down to put her head in the central hole submissively enough. I cleared her long golden hair from her neck so that it fell around her face, running my nails gently along the exposed nape before shutting the pillory and clipping the catch into place. A leg-spreading pole completed her position and there were murmurs of appreciation from the onlookers as I threw up her dress to expose her for punishment. I walked around her, admiring my handiwork. She did look beautiful, her eyes big and moist, her mouth set in a sullen pout, hair cascading down around her face. Her big bottom looked great, raised up with her pale blue panties stretched taut across her seat, the shape of her pussy showing because her legs were as wide apart as they would go.
‘You should have had her take her knickers off before you put the leg-pole on,’ Anderson pointed out from the crowd.
‘Not at all,’ I answered. ‘You’ll all see plenty of her pussy later, but for now her panties have a function.’
I pulled them down as far as they would go anyway, leaving Ginny’s bum bare with the panties in a taut line just below her cheeks. It also seemed a pity not to show her tits off, so I adjusted the dress to leave them swinging bare beneath her, on full view for everybody. She now looked even better and I signalled Henry over to take a few photographs while I went to choose from the table. Ginny squirmed and pretended embarrassment at being photographed in such a position, but also made an effort to stick her bum further out and turn to give a suitably remorseful look to the camera.
It was Anderson’s treatment of us as pony-girls that had inspired my idea for Ginny’s punishment. The difference was that I intended to beat her while the vibrator was actually in her pussy. With a skinny girl, it wouldn’t be safe, because you might catch the base of the vib
rator with the strap. On Ginny’s big firm bottom, there would be plenty of flesh to cushion the smacks. The purpose of leaving her panties on was to hold the vibrator in place, otherwise her wriggles were bound to push it out.
I chose a thick cock-shaped vibrator made of rubber. It also had a rubber prong above the main shaft, designed either to tickle a girl’s clit or fit into her bum-hole, a feature that real cocks would certainly be improved by. For a strap, I chose a genuine Lochgelly tawse, a heavy leather implement made for use on Scot and Amber’s pride and joy. I had felt it across my own bottom and knew how much it stung, while there was a satisfying weight to the smacks that was a particular turn-on.
Ginny watched me as I walked back to her, looking uncertainly at the vibrator and tawse. Once behind her I laid the tawse across the crest of her bottom and pulled her panties open to get at her pussy. I made sure the crowd got a good view of her full sex lips and moist, pink vulva. I sucked a finger and slid it into her, making her groan as the flesh of her pussy tightened on the intruding digit. Amber was never that keen on being fingered, and the sensation of having mine in another woman’s vagina was still unfamiliar enough to make me want to explore for a bit. Ginny moaned again as I wriggled it inside her, enjoying the sensation of the tight wet tube of flesh clamped around my finger.
When I had finished opening her, the vibrator slid in easily enough, only needing to be pulled back a couple of times until it was deep inside her. I couldn’t resist a quick lick of her anus to help the little probe in; Amber and, I think, Anderson laughed at my readiness to lick a bottom. Lastly, I tweaked the panties back into place, the taut elastic holding the vibrator well in her pussy while there was perhaps an inch and a half of finger-width rubber probe in her bottom-hole. I turned it on, immediately drawing a sigh of pleasure from Ginny.
