Anyway, we’re almost back at the house and I’m mulling things over, my fury spent. My resolve is on the wane, too, and he can see it in my face. He makes me a strong cup of coffee, aware that his moment of triumph is not far off. He’s not saying much now, relying on that sort of wistfully apologetic look on his little-boy face to finally win me over. I’m not saying much either, pretending disdainful indifference. I sip my coffee without looking at him, but I know from his furtive glances that he’s willing me to capitulate. Yes, my Jamie is a scheming little creep, but I can’t love him any less for it.
Eventually he comes up behind me and strokes the back of my neck. As usual he’s got some sexually explicit witticism up his sleeve. My pursed lips break into a reluctant grin, and then he’s kissing me. And I giggle, my previously angry resolve at once blown to the winds. A while later we’re in bed, and the sex is all warm and lovey-dovey, if rather subdued. Afterwards we smoke a cigarette and, of course, I’m at my most vulnerable now. It’s not long before I’ve tentatively agreed, his face immediately lighting up. So, I’m a mug, all over again, and he kisses me like I’m the most wonderful thing on God’s earth.
‘But Jamie, I mean it. It’s a one-off. I’ll do it for you this once, but you must promise me faithfully that it’ll never happen again. Never.’
‘Promise. Cross my heart!’
He was already hard again.
I didn’t want to know any details in advance, or even when it was to take place, except that he’d tell me the night before. He’d arranged it with this Richard bloke, and the day came quicker than I’d expected, although I could tell by Jamie’s happy-slappy mood that it had been all too imminent. I’d never seen him so excited before. For days he’d been all over me like a hot rash, eager to please me, indulging my every whim and fancy, praising me at any opportunity, and brimming over with soppy affection. I was lapping it up, but now it was pay-time.
To be honest, Richard turned out to be not such a bad sort, after all. He’s like a big overweight bear, and he’s jolly with it, putting me at ease as soon as we came through the door of his place. The atmosphere inside the room was all kind of cosy in a masculine way, although my spine took an icy jolt as soon as I saw the two spotlights and the camera equipment! For a few frantic moments I went all goggle-eyed and panicky. With stark reality confronting me now, I was beginning to regret my rash decision. But Jamie’s always ready for my last-minute wobbles. He knows precisely how to soothe nerves, sort of smooching all over me and rubbing up against me so that I can feel his excitement. And all the while he’s whispering affectionate nothings and all manner of sexy crap into my ear.
‘Babes, I can’t wait for you to put the schoolgirl kit on. And when you’ve got to lower your knickers, those scrumptiously tight little cheeks of yours are going to blow the lens right off that fucking video camera!’
And of course I couldn’t disappoint him now. I’d given my word. Besides, Amanda had just arrived, and she turned out to be the biggest surprise of the afternoon. She wasn’t the tarty little slapper I’d been expecting. Far from it. She works as a receptionist at my local dentist! I don’t know which of us was most gobsmacked! Certainly we both blushed like school-girls. She seemed so ordinary, almost prim and proper. I couldn’t really imagine her doing this porn stuff. But then I suppose she couldn’t imagine me doing it either – and she’s got the better end of the deal! Apparently she’s Richard’s regular star dominatrix, but she only ever appears fully clothed and never on the receiving end!
She’s quite attractive in her way and she looks every bit the youthful headmistress that she’s supposed to be for the part. She even wears those regulation schoolmarmish spectacles and black nylon tights. Jamie’s equally taken with her, although he was obviously a bit concerned at my initial reaction when we all realised who she was. I hope she’s discreet, although a visit to our dentist will never be quite the same again!
Well, Richard’s schoolgirl skirt and blouse were a bit tight for me. I changed into the gear with trepidation, my heart thumping at the prospect of the filming as much as the impending agony. Amanda stifled her giggles as soon as she saw me dressed like that. She’s a nice sort of girl, quiet but sociable, and actually we’ve since become friends – not that I intend to succumb to her headmistress’s skills again!
The rest of that afternoon went by in a sort of mixture of light-hearted banter and a daze of pain. Of course, I’d insisted that my face mustn’t be caught on film. Surely my buttocks were enough! I can recall everything vividly – and agonisingly. Despite her quietness and that sort of meek and mild appearance of hers, Amanda was the very strictest of headmistresses. She played the part like a veritable actress, her practised script sounding really authentic. And of course I played my submissive role accordingly.
‘Your behaviour in class today was so bad, my girl, that you’re going to get a very severe caning indeed.’
She said it as if she really meant it, and apparently she did, because that’s what I got!
‘You understand why such appalling behaviour can’t go unpunished?’
‘Yes, Miss,’ I replied timidly, my hands clasped demurely in front of my pleated skirt.
‘Very well. Slip your panties down to your knees and bend down over here.’
‘Yes, Miss.’
‘Bend right over. Lower! Knees straight and touch your toes. Brace yourself. It’s going to hurt.’
I had no illusions about that. The camera whirred. I took a dozen stinging strokes, but they were spaced out at appropriate intervals to give me time to recover. I had to count each cut out aloud, just to add to the overall fantasy. When it was all over I was sweating and trembling, but Richard was delighted with the result, having filmed me at various different angles, close-ups and long shots, and leaving nothing to the imagination.
My Jamie was certainly on cloud nine. He’d sat there out of camera-shot gawping at the scene in silent astonishment, his jaw hanging stupidly and his trousers jacked like a tent. At least that was what Richard laughingly told me afterwards as he handed me my money.
For the next few weeks Jamie was all over me, madly passionate, lovingly tender, praising me all the time. And just as he’d promised, our sex life was fantastic – although slightly uncomfortable for a while. Furthermore, apart from my new friendship with Amanda, there was one other consolation prize for me.
Richard had given a copy of the videotape to Jamie, and of course he plays it regularly now – so much so that I’ve been spared quite a number of what otherwise would have been real-life sessions. It hasn’t actually curbed his enthusiasm, but it’s given me a welcome breather. At least for the moment he’s satisfied with just watching me on video. We sometimes even watch the tape together, careful to keep the volume turned down for fear of old Mrs Pascoe next door hearing my yelps.
‘You were absolutely fabulous, Annie Babes. I nearly came just watching you. It was a stunning performance. I don’t suppose … er … you’d consider –?’
‘No, I bloody would not.’
‘Even with Amanda? I mean … something a bit different … like the tawse or the paddle? Richard’s planning another video and –’
‘No, Jamie. Absolutely not. Don’t push your luck!’
Even so, I enjoyed spending my two hundred quid on a pair of Gucci shoes.
On second thoughts, I might eventually agree to doing another video – but only once my bum has had a well deserved rest, and only when Jamie has begged and pleaded with me more than ever. That’s my main adrenaline rush. But yes, I do need a couple of winter dresses, as it so happens. And I’m a resilient girl, even if I’m a mug.
– Annie Foster, Harrow, Middlesex, UK
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First published in 2008 by
Nexus
Thames Wharf Studios
Rainville Rd
London W6 9HA
Copyright © Virgin Books Ltd 2008
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
www.nexus-books.com
ISBN 978 0 352 34113 6
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Nexus Confessions: Volume Three Page 21
