A Taste Of Amber

by Penny Birch

  Henry nodded to me and rose, taking Vicky’s bridle as I dropped the reins. Todd was dismounting. I nodded to him as he extended his hand. I took it, shaking it and returning his smile. Trisha smiled at me, Ellen managing a weak grin. Melody looked at me and shook her head, puffing hard as she rested on all fours, regret written clearly on her face.

  Eleven

  I flexed the cane. Despite every effort to maintain a stern, aloof dominance appropriate to my role as mistress, I was grinning from ear to ear. It was impossible not to. In front of me Morris Rathwell was tied securely to a wooden frame in the shape of an X. Morris Rathwell, the purely dominant, never-whipped king of pony-carting, was now without a stitch. Morris Rathwell, master of Melody, Harmony and almost me, now stood with his muscular buttocks twitching in anticipation of the cane.

  He had been furious at first, but he knew his whole reputation rested on always keeping his word. After all, if he backed out on me, then what sweet virgin would ever again risk herself in a bet? There were just too many witnesses although, to be fair, he never so much as suggested altering the terms.

  After a long period of rest and cleaning up, he had signed over the deeds to what was now my land, with Henry and Trisha acting as witnesses. After that it was me, not him, who had delayed his punishment. I was dead sure that if he’d won he would have wrung every instant of pleasure from my submission and I was now determined to do the same. First I’d insisted on all six pony-girls getting back into full harness for a group photo. Then I’d had Melody, Trisha and Ellen kneel to be photographed with their bottoms up and their faces in the dust of the yard. Trisha and Ellen already had smarting red bottoms, and my whip soon gave Melody her share of punishment. Henry took photos front and rear, the latter with my team lifting the girls’ tails so that their fannies showed, and also the plugs in their bottoms. I’d then lined them all up – including Carrie and Susan – and been photographed in my full kit, standing proudly at the end of a line of eight bare-bottomed girls, Susan alone not bearing the marks of punishment. I corrected that with six of the cane across her pert little rump, then gave Vicky four as she’d run so well and I felt she needed reminding of her place. I then demanded another photo.

  Only then did I turn my attention to Rathwell. I could see he was less than happy about it, but he undressed at my order and stood patiently while I fixed him to the cross. The audience were all attention by then, giggling and whispering, even the men had smiles on their faces. To do Rathwell justice he had a fine body for his age and held himself well, obviously determined to take his punishment with dignity, just as I had once done when first bent over his whipping stool.

  So I walked up and down and flexed the cane, commenting on his body and telling him how much it hurt to be caned. Finally I was ready, laying the cane across his buttocks, pulling it back, pausing, watching his buttocks tighten in anticipation and then bringing it down hard across them. He squeaked, to my utter delight. I gave him the second in the same slow, deliberate manner, really making sure he got the full benefit of being punished. He managed to stay silent for the second, so I put the third in as hard as I could and managed to make him squeak again.

  Melody and Harmony were giggling behind their hands, while at the end of the row Ginny and Carrie were snickering and pointing at Rathwell. I walked around to see what was amusing them, suspecting that I knew. Sure enough, poking out from above his balls like a small carrot, was a fully hard, straining erection.

  ‘So, who doesn’t enjoy going sub?’ I taunted, reaching out to stroke his balls and cock with my fingernails. ‘Who would have thought it? High and mighty Master Morris, and he’s all excited because little Amber’s taking the cane to his bottom!’

  He groaned slightly as my hand curled around his prick, then gasped as my gentle tugging motions stopped and I squeezed and pulled hard.

  ‘Do you remember how I came after you’d had me?’ I asked. ‘And after you’d caned me? Do you remember how you said it showed I was your slave at heart? Well, what does this show, eh?’

  I flicked his cock, then went back behind him and gave him another six hard strokes with the cane. When I went back again his cock was harder than ever. I reached out and took it in my hand, pulling gently as I gave him another cane stroke. He groaned and I gave him another, pulling harder at his cock. Somebody in the crowd started clapping, a slow rhythm that the others quickly took up. I measured my cane strokes to it, tugging at his erection as I beat him, getting harder with both cane and hand.

  Suddenly he grunted and my hand was wet with spunk as his cock erupted. Before he could come down too far I reached up and put my fingers to his open mouth, watching him lap at his own come for an instant before his orgasm faded. The sight had the crowd in a frenzy, particularly Melody and Harmony, who had given up trying to restrain themselves. I bowed, taking a round of applause and then three cheers set up by Henry.

  After I had caned Rathwell I was in heaven. Everybody had been congratulating me, complimenting me, hugging me, touching me up until my head was spinning and there was a wet patch in between my thighs. Rathwell had intended to go, but Henry had taken him aside and persuaded him against it, after which he was more or less his usual self. By the time Henry announced that we should be changing for the dinner he had set up, Rathwell had Harmony and Melody both naked and with a new set of six cane stripes on each well-fleshed bottom.

  I went up to my room to change, along with Ginny, Ellen and Carrie. I had chosen a black velvet dress and fancy lace underwear in order to look as ladylike as possible. Ellen, having had her fill of being a pony-girl and being punished, dressed in the same deep-red silk sheaf she had worn the night I had visited her. Just seeing it brought back memories of kissing her anus and I wondered if her choice might not have been deliberate.

  ‘Did you enjoy being birched?’ I asked, keen to maintain my position as senior mistress.

  ‘It was stimulating,’ she answered, ‘although I’d have preferred to have dished it out.’

  ‘To Sven and Stefan?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, wouldn’t you?’ she asked.

  ‘I wish they’d done me,’ Ginny put in.

  ‘Maybe,’ I answered, not sure that the idea actually did anything for me. ‘You know why Carrie’s bum’s all pink, don’t you?’

  ‘Amber!’ Carrie squeaked.

  ‘She said you spanked her while your team were being watered,’ Ellen replied.

  ‘Yes,’ I lied, remembering how Carrie had helped me. ‘What are you going to wear for dinner, Carrie?’

  ‘Just my panties, if that’s all right,’ she answered.

  ‘Put her in a collar,’ I suggested to Ellen.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Carrie answered eagerly.

  ‘I never guessed you were such a slut, Carrie,’ Ginny put in.

  ‘I’ve been well trained,’ Carrie answered, colouring slightly.

  I didn’t answer, wondering how I would have developed as Ellen’s lover. Carrie had been a shy little thing at school. True, there had always been something mischievous about her, but never the openness and delight in sex that she now showed.

  Ginny opted for just panties as well, flaunting herself as usual and, I suspected, intent on one or both of the young men. They had already been paying attention to her and meeting with the normal openly flirtatious response. Carrie had been less openly friendly to them once everyone had been back, evidently because of Ellen, yet I knew that at the very least she had sucked their cocks and maybe more.

  By the time we got downstairs almost everybody else was there already. Henry was running the kitchen as always, although he had allowed Francis to deal with the wines and roped in Trisha as his assistant. Rathwell had both Melody and Harmony stark naked and on leads. I greeted him with a nod and patted Melody’s head, only then noting that the ring to which their leads were attached had a third one wound around it. I found myself having to swallow, knowing full well who the lead had been intended for. Rathwell smiled.

  I t
urned away with a polite nod, aware that my lapse of composure had been noticed but I was not really bothered. After all, he was the one with the cane marks on his bottom, while mine was pristine. Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I looked around for someone to talk to. Vicky and Todd were nowhere to be seen, but I had heard tell-tale squeals and smacking noises coming from the room they were using and guessed that she was being disciplined for running so well. Sven and Stefan were both already at the table, drinking light ale out of tall glasses and admiring Ginny and Carrie across the room.

  Trisha emerged from the kitchen with a great tray of canapés. She was dressed in a light dress of sheer apple-green silk. She was naked beneath it, with her nipples and the dark triangle between her legs showing. As she bent to put the tray down I was rewarded with a flash of her bottom. Her cheeks were still red from the nettles, which gave her a practical reason for leaving her panties off, and which I found an enchanting sight. Behind her came Susan, looking rather sorry for herself with her arm in a sling, but otherwise as coquettish as ever. I went to speak to her, only to be interrupted by Henry asking me to lay out place cards and handing me a list to do it by.

  I suppose I must have betrayed a hint of petulance at being asked to help, because he gave me a look that I knew meant he felt I was due for a spanking. That might happen, but later. For now, it was my night. Despite that I put the cards out and helped people find their places, only then taking my own seat at the head of the table.

  Dinner was excellent and went smoothly, everyone becoming increasingly relaxed and intimate. With Ginny and Susan on either side of me I was in excellent company and was feeling completely happy and in control. Other than me, Ellen was the only female in a dominant role. I would have preferred to be the only one, but it was still a marvellous feeling. Melody and Harmony, the two fierce, powerful black girls who had wanted me as their slave were stark naked at their master’s feet, having not even been permitted to sit at table. Vicky was also stark naked, and sitting a little uncomfortably on her newly caned bottom. Ginny and Carrie had on nothing but their panties, their naked breasts on display for everyone to see. Trisha had little more on and looked exquisitely submissive, while Susan was equally tempting in her starched white blouse and tiny skirt.

  By the end of the main course I had made Ginny get down to the floor and take off her pants. Both Sven and I were feeding her titbits by hand, which she’d nuzzle out of our palms with her lips. Susan was cuddled into Francis’s shoulder, both of them watching Ginny being fed. I was just making her beg for a choice morsel of pheasant when Henry banged on the table for attention. Ginny gulped the pheasant down and I turned to watch as the room went quiet.

  ‘Thank you,’ Henry began. ‘Good evening, ladies, gentlemen and playthings. Firstly I would like to propose a toast to my goddaughter, Amber Oakley, so charge your glasses. As you know, Amber has been staying with me for some months now, and in that time I have seen her change from a shy, rather moody schoolgirl into a confident young woman with all the qualities that make the perfect pony-mistress. To Amber Oakley.’

  I smiled and nodded as the entire group raised their glasses and toasted me.

  ‘Indeed,’ Henry continued, ‘she has pursued her aims with the ruthless single-mindedness that is characteristic of the sexually dominant. Such is the way of the dominant woman: forceful, determined, haughty, forthright, hard to satisfy and easy to displease. Such things are truly the characteristics a slave-girl craves in her mistress. Personally, of course, being neither girl nor slave, I might argue that her character could equally well be defined as pushy, stubborn, supercilious, cheeky, impossible and sulky. In short, a brat.’

  I had been about to put my glass down, but stayed with it poised in mid-air, looking at Henry with what must have been absolute horror. I knew what was coming, and couldn’t really deny the justice of it. What he had said was true.

  ‘And we all know what to do with brats, don’t we?’ he finished.

  There was an immediate chorus of agreement, every person in the room calling as one for me to get my just desserts. I swallowed and looked around me, my bottom starting to tingle uncomfortably.

  ‘So, I suggest,’ Henry said when the clamour of demands for me to be spanked, birched, nettled, caned, cropped, peed on, dog whipped, given an enema and worse had died down, ‘that in a spirit of fair-play, she should now crawl to each of us in turn, apologise and beg for a spanking. Amber?’

  Well, I could have turned it down, but contrition is more than its own reward and I knew that to do so would lose me the chance of many future games. I also deserved it.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I answered, hanging my head meekly.

  ‘Very well, then, off you go,’ he said to me, then addressed the room at large. ‘Forty-eight smacks each, chaps, or we’ll be here all night, but remember to make her beg first. Don’t let her keep her pants up, either, I never do.’

  I was blushing as I got down on my hands and knees. There were fourteen people, and every single one looked delighted by the prospect of spanking me. I decided to start with Susan, who would certainly be the mildest. I crawled to her and hung my head by her side.

  ‘Please, Susan,’ I began, with a repentance that was already fairly genuine, ‘would you spank me please?’

  ‘I might if you ask properly,’ Susan replied.

  ‘Please, Miss Wren,’ I tried. ‘I deserve to have my pants pulled down and my bottom spanked until I’m genuinely sorry for being beastly to you. Please do it?’

  ‘Very well,’ she answered in a bored voice that I knew was fake but still humiliated me.

  She made me get across Francis’s knee, peeling my dress up slowly to make me feel the full shame of exposure. He complimented me on my lacy black panties as she lifted my dress, then took one of my boobs in his hand and popped it out of my dress. With my stockings and suspenders showing, and the black panties stretched tight across my seat, I knew I made a fine sight; a sight that I intended for one or more of the girls to see as my bottom was lowered on to their faces. Now that same bottom was due a public spanking. I sighed as Susan took hold of my waistband and gently lowered my knickers. One of the men commented on the fullness of my bottom, and Francis popped my other tit out of my dress. Susan tucked my panties down around my thighs and I was ready for punishment.

  ‘That’s far enough, I think,’ she remarked, snapping the elastic against my thigh. ‘I can see your fat little pussy and, as you always told me, a girl’s pussy ought to be showing when she’s spanked.’

  Then she spanked me – forty-eight stinging little slaps with the fingertips of her good hand. By the end my bottom was tingling and warm and I was beginning to feel the first thrills of the state I knew I would end up in. Francis had held me down with one hand and fondled my breasts with the other, starting to spank immediately Susan had finished. His firm, male hand quickly had me dancing and kicking over his lap, while he waited until he was finished to demand my apology.

  I apologised in a kneeling position, kissed his shoes, then put my breasts back in and pulled my knickers up. There were twelve to go, which was a scary prospect, yet part of me wished it was more. Feeling warm and submissive I crawled on the floor to my next mistress, Melody. She was particularly bad, using me hard with my bottom humped up so high that half the table could see between my cheeks as I squealed and wriggled through my bare-bottomed spanking. She fingered my pussy after she’d spanked me and made me suck it before passing me on to Harmony. She was worse, giving me the same treatment but, instead of my vagina, it was my anus that she fingered. She then sat me up on her lap and made me suck the finger that had been in my bottom so that everybody could see.

  After that I was in total submissive ecstasy, crawling from person to person and begging for the privilege of punishment and apology. Not one of them was merciful. Each put me through the same humiliating ritual. Apology, raised dress, lowered panties, forty-eight slaps. Most made me thank them for spanking me, and several took liberties wi
th my bottom. Rathwell put a candle in my pussy when he’d done with me. Todd pulled my dress up to my armpits and it was left like that, although my panties went up and down like a yo-yo. Trisha was quite gentle but pushed my face in her food afterwards. Henry was the hardest, holding me tight around the waist and using all his power so that I was blubbering by the end. Vicky sat on my chest and rolled me up to do my thighs and pussy lips, which stung crazily. Ellen made me kiss her anus by way of apology, which had everyone clapping and encouraged Carrie to demand the same. Stefan and Sven did me together, each putting his cock in my mouth while the other beat me. Ginny came last, hauling me over her lap and dishing out a hard spanking with her hand twisted into my hair. She didn’t stop at forty-eight, either, smacking away merrily in spite of my frustrated little kicks and squeals.

  When she finally pushed me off her lap I was completely done. I made no effort to pull up my knickers or cover myself at all. I was crawling, my bare breasts dangling beneath me, my face covered in mashed potato, gravy and bits of vegetable, my bottom hot and throbbing, both pussy and bumhole feeling open and ready to be used. I badly needed to come and was going to do it in front of everyone when Henry once more called for silence.

  I turned and sat down heavily on my sore behind, wondering what else they could possibly do to me. Plenty, I realised as I looked to the side. Stefan had pushed his chair back and was looking at me, an impressive erection in his hand.