Deep Blue

by Aishling Morgan

  Thomazina turned, finding Elune perched on a rock with her legs pulled up to her chest, her face set in an expression of glee. The thing came loose, sucking at her leg as it pulled away. Looking down, she found herself with a big, green-purple anemone in her hand, a snakelocks, its tentacles already pulling back. Flicking it hastily into the water, she turned on Elune, whose eyes were bright with mischief.

  ‘Could you catch me you might whip me!’ Elune laughed.

  ‘But you won’t: you are too slow, too big, like all your sort!’

  The small girl darted away as Thomazina grabbed for her, laughing merrily as she skipped out of reach. Safely clear, she turned again and made a face and a gesture of her hands, signifying the contours of Thomazina’s body in farcical exaggeration. Thomazina started forward, only to see Elune pull herself up a rock face with quick, easy motions she could not hope to emulate. Her sex seemed to be on fire, a hot pain of maddening intensity, and her anger was real, if tempered by an understanding of the other’s character. Certainly Elune knew what to expect if she was caught.

  ‘Come up!’ Elune taunted. ‘Teach me my place! Smack my bottom like your old man!’

  Thomazina turned away, refusing to answer. Once more she lay down, stretching herself on the wet surface of the rock, turning her face seawards with feigned indifference to Elune’s continuing taunts. Presently there was silence and a while later the sun broke through the clouds, warming her back. She yawned and stretched, shutting her eyes with a sleepy smile.

  For a while she basked, trying to ignore the hot sting of her sex and the need to scratch and rub at herself. She knew full well that, if she allowed the irritation to drive her to masturbate, Elune’s amusement would know no bounds, so she held herself immobile until the faintest of sounds caught her attention. Peeping through her eyelashes, she watched Elune creep closer, impish face set in a manic grin, fingers carefully holding a yet larger snakelocks anemone. With every muscle limp, Thomazina judged her moment, grabbed and closed her fingers on Elune’s ankle. Elune squeaked in shock and kicked out, but Thomazina had already found a hold in her hair, twisting the long black locks hard into her left hand.

  ‘Let go, let go!’ she squealed. ‘I was playing. I didn’t know he’d sting, I didn’t!’

  ‘Big and slow I may be, but I am not stupid,’ Thomazina answered. ‘Now come down to your knees.’

  ‘No, please, I am delicate, very delicate!’ Elune begged.

  ‘You know how delicate I am!’

  ‘You should have thought of that before,’ Thomazina answered and pulled the small girl’s face down towards the rock.

  Elune went into a kneeling position. With a sudden flick, she tossed the anemone towards the sea, but Thomazina had expected the move and caught it, quickly turning the stinging tentacles downwards to save her hand. With Elune’s face to the rock, her bottom was pushed high, the cheeks well apart, her sex on full display, also her anus. For a moment Thomazina paused, unsure if she could perform so cruel an act, but the hot pain in her own sex stiffened her resolve. Pressing the fat body of the anemone to Elune’s vagina, she squeezed it into the tiny hole, ignoring her victim’s kicking legs and repeated pleas for mercy.

  ‘Oh, you wicked, fat monster!’ Elune cried as her vagina closed on the anemone’s body. ‘Ow! Thomazina, please, it is beginning to sting!’

  ‘Good,’ Thomazina answered. ‘Now come here.’

  She pulled, dragging the squealing Elune up the gully to where the rock closed overhead. The falling tide had left the gully floor exposed, showing green, weed-encrusted rocks and the thick, brown stalks of kelp. Thomazina chose one, as thick around as her wrist at the base and some four feet in length, twisting it from the rock.

  ‘No!’ Elune squeaked. ‘Not that too! My fanny burns, Thomazina, have mercy!’

  Thomazina ignored Elune, twisting her grip to force the small woman to bend, bottom high, legs set apart. She could see the anemone, a circle of purple-green flesh within the pink of the vagina, two tentacles hanging out, squirming slowly against the tender flesh. Grinning, Thomazina brought the kelp stick down hard across the girl’s helpless bottom. Elune kicked and squealed, jumping on her feet as the whip struck home, her tiny buttocks bouncing to the impact.

  ‘Fat, rotten monster!’ Elune squeaked, then squealed louder still as the kelp stalk slapped down across her upper thighs. ‘Ow! Please, Thomazina, that hurt!’

  Thomazina placed another smack across Elune’s bottom, bringing the thick brown kelp fronds down hard to spray seawater over both of them. Again Elune danced and kicked, her little body moving in frantic response to the pain of the beating. Thomazina found herself grinning, unable to hold back her enjoyment of her victim’s helplessness and nudity. Twisting her hand hard into Elune’s hair, she delivered eight hard blows in succession, leaving Elune dancing and gasping for breath with her tiny buttocks jiggling crazily up and down in her pain.

  ‘Beast!’ Elune gasped as she fought to recover herself. ‘I shall pee on you! I shall give you to Juliana!’

  ‘Juliana is more likely to take my side,’ Thomazina answered, drawing a miserable sob from Elune, then a squeal as the kelp frond lashed down once more.

  ‘Beat me, then!’ Elune snapped. ‘Beat me well, you horrid, fat beast, and just for a little trick! Oh, he stings so! I can feel him moving, Thomazina! Ow!’

  ‘Then push it out,’ Thomazina answered.

  Elune said nothing, but braced her legs, offering Thomazina a fine view of spread pink bottom, dimpled anus and open sex, the anemone’s full set of tentacles now dangling from the sore, red hole like an absurd beard. They were moving, writhing against the tender skin of Elune’s sex lips, some even moving up to her anus, turning the skin at the centre of the tiny hole an angry, swollen red. In response, Elune’s muscles twitched, making her anus pulse and her buttocks jump and shiver. Thomazina’s own sex still stung and she could feel for the small girl’s pain.

  Smiling, she lifted the kelp and once more brought it down, the anemone retracting suddenly into Elune’s vagina at the impact. Thomazina went to work, methodically thrashing Elune with hard, rhythmic blows, watching in vengeful delight as her victim danced in pain, her buttocks colouring through rich pink to an angry red to purple. Only when Elune’s breathing had become deep and regular and her squeals and gasps turned to broken groans did Thomazina stop, throwing down the now ragged kelp whip.

  Elune’s bottom was a mess, blotchy purple, the muscles squeezing to make her bottom close and open. As Thomazina watched the anemone squeezed from the small girl’s vagina, falling to the rock with a squashy sound. Thomazina picked it up and tossed it into a pool, then slapped the inside of Elune’s thighs to make her further part her legs. Her vagina was scarlet, her anus, vulva, sex lips and the inner tuck of her bottom inflamed with rash, the muscles twitching with pain.

  ‘You are done,’ she said. ‘Perhaps that will teach you to play your dirty little tricks.’

  ‘And I suppose you are all excited now,’ Elune retorted.

  ‘I suppose you can’t help but sit your big bottom on my face and make me lick you. Can you, you beast?’

  Thomazina said nothing, but pulled Elune down by the hair, laying her on a bed of thick kelp fronds. Elune went with the pressure, her thighs coming up and apart as she lay back. Thomazina stepped close, released Elune’s hair, cocked a leg over her body and sank into a squat. Elune sighed, a sound muffled by the full cheeks of Thomazina’s bottom as they were settled over her face. As a sharp little tongue began to lick her, soothing her own anemone rash, Thomazina sighed, let her knees slide apart in the slippery kelp and took a big breast in each hand.

  Elune had begun to touch herself, her hands stroking her inflamed sex, touching the rash deliberately. Thomazina watched, thinking how funny and how rude her friend had looked during the beating, dancing in pain with the anemone’s tentacles hanging from her vagina. She laughed, smiling happily as Elune’s tongue slipped into her own vagina. Her breast
s felt huge in her hands, the nipples stiff and prominent, enormous in contrast to those of the tiny girl whose face she sat on. Letting her hands slip lower, she felt the roundness of her stomach, the soft bulge of flesh at her mound and thighs. Elune’s tongue was working wonders, teasing the length of Thomazina’s sex, flicking over the sensitive skin from clitoris to anus and back, burrowing into one hole or the other, tasting her, and all the while lazily masturbating.

  In no time she was coming, rubbing her full bottom into Elune’s face as she bounced her big breasts in her hands, revelling in their size and weight. Elune’s tongue was in her bottom hole, deep up, then forward again, flicking at her clitoris, kissing it and suddenly sucking it in between small, firm lips. Thomazina came, crying out to the grey sky and wet rocks, wave after wave of ecstasy running through her as she felt herself and thought of small, slim buttocks bouncing to the smack of a whip.

  Elune kept licking, rubbing harder at herself as Thomazina came in her face. Her thighs were wide, her sex spread, the angry, scarlet flesh swollen as she rubbed. Her tongue went up Thomazina’s bottom, deep in, the pointed tip wriggling in the hot rectal flesh. Her back arched, and as she came her bladder erupted, pee spraying out in a long, golden arc to splash on the rocks and weed, dying, flaring again, once more to die to a trickle of yellow liquid on hot, angry flesh.

  Thomazina climbed off, sitting down in the cool kelp and letting her breath out. Sitting on Elune’s face to come had been easy enough, but holding her pose while Elune took her own pleasure was far more tiring. Her sex still stung, but even with her orgasm a fresh experience she knew it would be worth it. Elune rose, grinning impishly, and sat her bottom down in a pool with a look of mock indignation for Thomazina.

  ‘You have made me very sore, Thomazina,’ she chided.

  ‘Still, I’m certain I deserved it. Did you like my peeing trick? I learned it on Inishmaan.’

  ‘It’s nice and dirty. Is it just for show?’

  ‘No, it feels lovely. You must try.’

  ‘I shall. Now, you must have clothes, which I shall buy for you. What name are you going by?’

  ‘The Celtic, in Ireland. Here I shall be Linnet.’

  ‘I am Tammy again — Thomazina seems to be thought long. Would a little more chest not be a good idea?’

  ‘I like my shape, and besides, if your old man thinks I’m a child he will send me away with a big ice cream while he spanks your great fat bottom.’

  Joe stared from his window, watching the brighter weather move slowly in from the west. Since the previous evening he had been burning with frustration and jealousy. Ever since his encounter with Tammy he had been searching for her, failing until, walking back along the front, he had seen her, with a tall black man and another girl. The man’s arms had been around both girls and all three had been laughing with excitement. As he had watched from the shadows he had seen the black guy squeeze Tammy’s bottom, an intimate act which she had greeted with a happy, drunken giggle.

  He had followed, and seen the three go into the back of the Royal, their reason for using the late-night door all too obvious. He had been thinking of Tammy as his, and seeing her with another man had left him feeling rejected and angry, also frustrated as he thought of her in the black guy’s arms. That alone was bad enough, but the fact that there had been another girl with them made it unbearable, and it had proved impossible to get the image of the three of them having sex out of his mind.

  All morning he had stayed in his room, alternating between anger and self-pity and listening to the patter of rain on the windows. Now it was stopping, and his overriding emotion was a hot resentment directed at the entire female sex, for what he saw as fickleness, callousness and a general failure to appreciate his qualities. The resentment mixed with lust, giving him an urgent need to spy on girls, which he knew would go some way to soothing his feelings.

  He had always found that he got the most pleasure from watching girls who didn’t want to be seen. Girls on the front in bikinis were good, but they weren’t hiding anything. The posh girls on St David’s were better, as he felt they would resent him watching them far more than the Tawmouth girls and there was a better chance of catching some topless, even nude. Lonelier places could prove better still and his favourite was Aldon Head, with its sloping rock ledges, hard to access and quite private, save to anybody on the cliff top equipped with powerful binoculars.

  More often than not there would be nobody there, but it could be pretty well guaranteed that anybody who troubled to walk over a mile and then scramble over the rocks had some reason to seek privacy. More than once he had caught girls sunbathing nude, watching them strip and oil their bodies, with his cock hardening in his pants. Once there had even been a couple, kissing and then masturbating each other on the hot, bare rock before a brief and frantic coupling.

  Now he felt the need to see something rude, also to get the thrill of feeling he was intruding on the girls’ privacy. There was a need to be alone as well, which he fought down as it made him feel weak, yet Aldon Head was clearly the place to go. As he had done on previous occasions, he went to the river ferry, sitting nearby with a can of cold cola to see if any pretty girls intended to cross the Taw, particularly those with towels and beach bags. The air was fresh from the rain, the wind light, weather he considered ideal, hot yet not so sultry that the walk would be an undue effort. Sure enough, the cluster of passengers awaiting the ferry included three girls who he felt would be worth watching stripped down. Two were clearly friends, one fake blonde, one brown-haired, both quite petite and slender, both with large canvas beach bags slung over their shoulders, chattering happily and quite unaware of his gaze. The third was more tempting still, a natural blonde with her hair cut in a neat bob, her figure compact, perhaps a little bottom heavy, dressed in a demure white summer dress and sandals. She lacked Tammy’s glorious curves, but made up for them with a natural innocence of manner which Joe found irresistible, especially as the thin material of her dress hinted at braless breasts. Here, he was sure, was a girl for whom the idea of being peeped at in her bathing suit would be genuinely shocking.

  He joined the ferry, taking care not to pay any attention whatever to the girls as they crossed the Taw estuary. On the far side he disembarked last, watching carefully to see what the girls would do. Sure enough, the two friends made for the tunnel that led on to Ness Beach, but unfortunately the natural blonde took the footpath up to Aldon Hill. Joe spent a while pretending to watch birds on the mud flats, then started up Aldon Hill, intending to follow the blonde and, if she did nothing interesting, then to peer down at the other two from the cliff top.

  Climbing the hill made him think of Tammy and her promise to be at the solstice party, at first with anger and then with hope. She would be there after all, and perhaps the other girl had been the black guy’s girlfriend and not Tammy. In any case she would be there, and she would probably be drunk, even high, so he had to have a fair chance of getting her out of her pants.

  Reaching the top of the hill, he found the blonde girl seated on the grass, sketching the great barrow that occupied the summit. He ignored her, walking on to the cliff edge and into the concealment of a thick stand of broom and gorse. When certain he could no longer be seen, he dropped low, working back until he could see her. She was as before, her sketchpad resting on her knees, her full concentration on her drawing. Her position left a fair bit of leg showing, even some thigh, and he watched for a while, hoping a shift in pose would provide a flash of her panties. Her age he estimated at twenty two or twenty three, her figure in the well-worth-a-peep category, her face better still, delicate and fine, innocent and sweet. Unfortunately, she showed no inclination to do anything other than sketch, nor to move into a more revealing position, and presently he grew bored.

  Moving to the cliff edge, he peered cautiously down. Ness Beach was below, stretching from the river mouth to below him in a gentle curve of red sand. At the far end, a family were using the sheltered bay create
d by Ness Head, while a lone and elderly man sat on a rock, smoking a pipe. The man he had seen before, always in the same place, and wondered if he wasn’t up to the same thing. The two girls were nowhere in sight, which meant they had gone further, a fact that gave him a thrill of expectation.

  Making his way to the headland, he peered down, careful not to risk making his head a silhouette against the sky. Sure enough, they were there, clambering up the steep side of a rock ledge. They reached the top and glanced around, evidently checking that they were unobserved. One spoke, and despite the distance and the rustle of the wind Joe caught what he was sure was a mention of privacy. He grinned to himself, imagining their conversation. One, perhaps the brunette, would be wondering if they were safe and expressing her distaste for being watched while she sunbathed. The blonde would reply, agreeing that there was nothing worse than having some dirty little Peeping Tom getting off over the sight of their bodies but pointing out that nobody had followed them and that the old man would be unable to manage the scramble needed to reach their hideaway. Neither would think to look up, both imagining their precious bodies safe from lecherous male attention.

  The blonde bent, pulling a large beach towel from a bag and spreading it on the rock. Her companion followed suit, and to Joe’s utter delight they began to undress. He watched, the binoculars shaking in one hand, the other squeezing his rapidly stiffening cock through his trousers. The blonde peeled up her top, revealing what he took to be a pink bra until he realised in disappointment that it was a bikini top. Her jeans followed, pushed down over a neat little bottom, again clad in bright-pink material.