American Blue

by Penny Birch

  The depilating cream was slimy and smelt unpleasant, but I forced myself to slap it on to my pussy and between my cheeks, making sure I got a good coating around my anus. It soon began to sting, badly enough to quicken my breathing and leave me wriggling my toes as I waited for it to take effect. I creamed my cheeks too, hoping to mimic the warmth of a spanking, but I was burning anyway and it wasn’t really necessary. The instructions said to wait half an hour, so I poked my head out of the door to tell them what was going on.

  ‘You ready, hon?’ Fishbaugh asked.

  ‘No,’ I told him. ‘This cream takes ages to work properly.’

  He nodded, apparently satisfied, and I closed the door, wondering what to do with myself while the cream took effect. I couldn’t give myself my enema or I’d wash off the cream around my bumhole and have to start all over again. I couldn’t even sit down, with my cheeks all creamy, while the heat in my sex was making me want to touch it. The best thing, I decided, was to tease myself, hopefully making it easier to cope with my fucking.

  I began to rub the cream in again, only to find that my pubic hair had already begun to come loose, pulling away in little tufts and clumps. It felt odd, but quite nice, and I squatted down over the loo as I began to denude my pussy, pulling out the hair and dropping it into the bowl. I could feel myself getting juicy as I did it, and the smarting sensation in my skin was growing ever stronger.

  Seating myself on the loo with my cheeks well spread, I began to explore my anus, first touching the little bare hole in the middle as I thought of how I’d feel with old Fishbaugh’s cock straining my ring, then the hairy bit between my cheeks. The slimy sensation of the cream now felt nice, and pleasantly rude, especially when my hair began to come away under my fingers. I scratched, pulling the hairs out under my nails and shivering at the sensation.

  Lying back against the cistern, I spread my thighs and continued to rub myself and pull at my hair. I was hot all over, and keen to make the sensations stronger, so I began to wipe the slippery mess of cream and hair up over my tummy and breasts, to make my skin tingle and my nipples pop out. In no time both little buds were beginning to be sore, while my pussy and bumhole were on fire.

  A little more and I’d have been past the point of no return, unable to stop myself masturbating until I came, but I forced myself back from the edge. If Dan Fishbaugh was going to have me I wanted to be as excited as possible, or I’d never be able to cope with the humiliation. After all, I was to be fucked and buggered too, all of it on camera, and whatever Jemima said there was no question in my mind about the significance of the act. I would be prostituting myself.

  My pubes had pretty well come away, but I hunted out a few stray ones before climbing back into the shower. There was a brush on one of the shelves, and I used it to rub my pussy down and scrub my bum and between my cheeks, before finally rinsing myself off. I checked myself in the mirror, spreading my cheeks to show off the now smooth flesh around my anus and sticking out my hips to make sure I’d done my pussy properly.

  I was as bare as the day I’d been born, while my flesh was a little red, highlighting my pussy in a deliciously rude way not dissimilar to having my lips pumped up. My bottom cheeks were slightly pink too, and completely smooth, making them seem fuller and more prominent. I gave myself a couple of smacks to make them pinker still and turned back to the shelves, my fingers now trembling with excitement as well as apprehension.

  The enema bulb was a fat orange thing made of rubber with a long black nozzle protruding from one end. A raised marking at one side stated that it held two US pints, which had to be about a litre, and that it had been made in Boston, Mass. Just to hold it made my bumhole tighten and set my tummy squirming, and it was worse once I’d filled it at the sink, heavy and bloated and wobbly in my hand. There was a tub of anal lubricant on the shelves, and I put the bulb carefully down on the cistern and applied a blob to my anus, rubbing it in and sliding one finger as deep as it would go.

  Lifting my bottom, I applied the nozzle to my hole. It went in easily, and I got into a low squat to make sure I didn’t have a nasty accident, then squeezed. I felt the cold of the water on the inside of my ring, then the pressure in my rectum as it began to swell with water, a sensation that quickly had me gasping.

  Only when the bulb had grown completely flaccid did I stop, extracting it carefully before sitting down once more. I felt full, a little uncomfortable, but not urgent, and decided I had better put some more in before letting go. Again I filled the bulb, leaning across the sink, and again I got into my lewd open squat and inserted the nozzle into my anus. I squeezed the bulb until the contents were in my rectum, leaving me feeling heavy and urgent inside, breathing deeply, my toes wriggling with the need to go.

  I shut my eyes, my lower lip trembling and a muscle in my thigh twitching uncontrollably as I deliberately fought against the inevitable, but only for a few seconds before it became too much for me. My bumhole opened, emitting a great gush that splashed and gurgled into the pan beneath me as I let out my breath in a long, heartfelt sigh.

  ‘Three or four times, at least,’ Fishbaugh instructed from outside the door, and I found myself blushing at the realisation that they could hear exactly what I was doing.

  I obeyed in any case, flushing myself out another five times until I was sure I was completely clean and had an odd, empty sensation in my lower belly. My skin was prickling with sweat too, and I climbed back into the shower to give myself a final wash before wrapping myself in the largest towel I could find and leaving the bathroom.

  They were in the bedroom set, Hudson standing with his arms folded and an expression of patriarchal benevolence on his face as he watched Jemima suck Dan Fishbaugh’s cock. He was already erect, his long pink penis extending up from his fly and into her mouth. I gave a gentle cough.

  ‘I thought you weren’t allowed to touch her?’

  ‘I ain’t allowed to make porno movies of her,’ he replied, ‘But hell, I never refuse a bj! Pull up, hon, or I’ll spunk in your mouth, and I need to save it for your auntie.’

  Jemima lifted her head, smiling. Briefly a strand of saliva hung between her lower lip and the tip of his cock, creating an image I found especially perverse, in the contrast between her supple, youthful beauty and his wrinkly decrepitude. I swallowed, reflecting that I’d soon be the one kneeling at his feet to serve him with my mouth, and worse.

  ‘You’ll want to get dressed,’ he was saying as he walked across to a cupboard, still with his spit-wet cock sticking out from his fly. ‘We want you looking like a good little wifey, so let’s go for this, and this, and this …’

  He was pulling garments out as he spoke and I took them, to find myself holding pink gingham trousers, a loose blouse, a pinny and a pair of large, frilly knickers. I was sure the outfit owed more to his imagination than to reality, but made no complaint, taking it into the bathroom, where I began to dress. He hadn’t given me a bra, or shoes and socks, so I used my own, but nothing else even fitted properly. The knickers were so tight they pressed into the flesh of my waist and left my bum cheeks bulging out round the leg holes. I wouldn’t have minded the blouse, which was at least too big rather than too small, but it was nylon, with frills at the wrists and neck, both ugly and out of date. So were the trousers, and they were also too tight around my hips and between my legs, leaving my bottom looking enormous and the crease of my pussy visible through the stretched material. I put the wig on last, made a few adjustments in the mirror in a vain effort to stop myself looking quite so much like a cross between a dirty old man’s wank fantasy and a clown.

  ‘Say, but don’t you look cute,’ Fishbaugh remarked when I returned, and squeezed his crotch, where his still hard cock showed through his trousers.

  Hudson was trying to hide a smile. Jemima was giggling openly.

  ‘Let’s get on with it,’ I said with a sigh. ‘How do you want me?’

  ‘Just do as I say,’ he advised. ‘The set-up is your man’s given you
to me for a fucking, because he gets off on seeing another guy do you, and to make you feel ashamed, only by the end you’re enjoying it. Reckon you can play it that way?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said glumly, ‘and I won’t be acting.’

  He gave me a leer, clearly enjoying the prospect of forcing me to respond to my own body. They’d obviously agreed it all in advance, because Hudson had sat down in a chair where he’d be watching me on the bed, and Jemima had picked up a digital camera, while there was a video camera set up on a tripod.

  ‘Come and sit next to me,’ Fishbaugh instructed, patting the bed beside him. ‘We ready? Roll it.’

  I sat down next to him, acutely aware of the camera recording me, and of his touch as his fingers found my left breast. He began to feel me up, fondling me through my clothes with a lecherous intimacy that instantly had me shivering and biting my lip in shame-filled reaction. I’d put my hands in my lap and kept them there, no doubt looking as awkward as I felt, and when he began to unbutton my blouse an involuntary whimper escaped my throat.

  There was something horribly creepy about his touch, as if he was not a man at all but a monster of some kind, and when he opened my blouse and eased my breasts free of my bra I began to shake uncontrollably. He must have realised the state he was putting me in, but he carried on, enjoying the weight of my breasts and the texture of my skin, teasing my nipples hard and pulling them out to make me wince and gasp. Briefly he sucked one into his mouth, chewing on it long enough for Jemima to zoom in for a close-up, and then he took my wrist.

  ‘Pull on my cock,’ he ordered, and pressed my hand to the long, hard bulge in his trousers.

  I tried to pull my hand away, but he kept it in place and repeated the order, more brusquely. Hudson added his own command, and I was forced to peel down Fishbaugh’s fly and pull his cock out of his underpants. It felt hot and a little damp, not quite fully hard, but stiffening quickly again as I began to tug up and down on his shaft.

  As I masturbated him he began to undress me, fumbling me out of my blouse and bra, taking a while to explore my now fully naked breasts once more, before lifting me from the bed. I went with the pressure, releasing his cock as he stood me in front of him, his eyes feasting on my body as he took yet another grope of my breasts, then put his hands on my trousers.

  I was shaking harder than ever as he unfastened my buttons and drew down my zip before slipping his thumbs into my waistband. He pushed and it all came down as one, my trousers and the ridiculous frilly knickers as well, left in a tangle around my thighs with my denuded cunt now bare to his gaze.

  ‘Turn around,’ he ordered, ‘nice and slow.’

  He chuckled to see me so obedient as I began to shuffle around on my feet, making a display of naked hips and thighs, of pussy and bottom cheeks, both to him and to the camera.

  ‘I see you paddle her,’ he remarked as my bottom came on show to him. ‘You have to do that often?’

  ‘No,’ Hudson grunted, ‘only when I have to remind her who’s the boss, or when she ain’t too keen on doing what I tell her.’

  ‘Like now, maybe,’ Fishbaugh replied and both men chuckled.

  As I came to face him again he reached out to run his hands over the curve of my hips and down my thighs, then to cup my bottom behind, weighing my cheeks and applying a few gentle smacks, just hard enough to make my flesh quiver.

  ‘Firm,’ he remarked, ‘nice and heavy too. You make her shave, or does she do it herself?’

  ‘She has to stay shaved,’ Hudson replied. ‘House rule.’

  Again both men chuckled. Fishbaugh gave my bottom a final squeeze and his hands came to my front. He extended one finger and ran it up the crease of my pussy. I winced, drawing away by instinct, but he cupped my bottom in his other hand, pulling me close as he pressed a knuckle to my clitoris, rubbing until I began to gasp and whimper despite myself.

  ‘Horny little bitch, ain’t you?’ he remarked. ‘OK, hon, now you’re going to suck my dick.’

  He took me by my hips and began to ease me down, transferring his grip to my hair as soon as he could. Even as I got to my knees he was pulling my head in towards his crotch, and my mouth filled with cock as I settled into place. I was just as Jemima had been, at his feet, his cock in my mouth, but I also had my trousers and frillies down at the back, with my bare bottom thrust out towards a camera.

  I sucked diligently, wondering if I could make him spunk in my mouth and save myself the added degradation of a fucking. Not that I was sure if I wanted to, but as I mouthed his penis I could feel myself slipping towards complete surrender. He’d kept his grip on my wig, making a show of forcing me to suck him, and I responded, trying to pull off, at which he thrust my head down hard, shoving his knob into my gullet, making me gag and pull back, spluttering and blowing saliva from around my lips.

  ‘Suck it, bitch!’ he spat, and changed his grip, taking hold of me by my ears and pulling my head hard down once more.

  He began to fuck my throat, so roughly that I was soon slapping his thighs in protest, my eyes bulging and my stomach lurching repeatedly as I gagged on his cock. I was going to be sick all over him if he kept going, but he stopped just in time and let me up, gasping for breath with spit running out of the corners of my mouth and two long streamers of snot hanging from my nose. He laughed to see the state he’d got me in and flourished his cock at me.

  ‘Sit on it,’ he ordered.

  As I turned to mount him he closed his legs, forcing me to spread mine wide as I sat in his lap, lowering myself on to his erection with my pussy gaping to the camera as I filled up. He took hold of my breasts and began to bounce me up and down on his cock, showing off both to Hudson and to the camera in such a way that it left no doubt whatsoever that I was being fucked.

  I couldn’t help but react, sitting stark naked in his lap, him without a stitch out of place except where his cock protruded from his fly and into my cunt, his hands on my bare breasts and my mouth still full of the taste of cock where he’d forced me to suck him. Hudson was watching me too, acting the part of the husband who’d given me to a dirty old man to be molested and penetrated in front of him. So was Jemima, who had the camera lens extended to take a close-up of Fishbaugh’s cock in my pussy hole.

  ‘Turn around,’ Fishbaugh ordered, ‘let’s show him that ass he loves to beat.’

  As he spoke he gave me a last, deep thrust and took hold of my waist, helping me lift off his cock. I scrambled quickly around, face to face as I once more lowered myself on to his erection, now with my bare bum to the camera. His hands found my cheeks, pulling them wide to show off my anus and the junction of cock and cunt, all of it on record as the video camera continued to whirr gently to itself.

  He began to smack my cheeks as he rode me on his cock, between pulling them wide and cupping them in his hands, enjoying my bum with ever greater enthusiasm. My tits were bouncing in his face and he stuck out his tongue, lapping at my nipples. I’d given in, and whimpered not in shame but in pleasure as he bounced me up and down, ever faster, until he suddenly whipped his cock free of my hole and came, spraying my tummy and thighs with spunk as he emptied himself before collapsing slowly back on to the bed.

  Thirteen

  I STAYED AS I was, spread out across his hips with his slowly deflating penis pressed against my stomach and his come dribbling down my skin, feeling well used and highly excited, ready to come but knowing that I was about to have my bottom hole interfered with and that I’d do best to wait in order to cope with my feelings. He looked exhausted too, so I climbed off, taking a tissue from a box on the bedside table and wiping moodily at my bottom as a final show for the cameras.

  ‘Nice touch,’ Fishbaugh declared as I dropped the tissue into the bin. ‘OK, that’s a wrap. You two OK with that?’

  ‘Fine by me,’ Hudson said casually as he reached out to turn the video camera off.

  ‘One hundred and seventy-three pictures,’ Jemima put in.

  ‘That’ll be welcome,’ Fishbaug
h said. ‘I’ll call the guy and fix a price before you go, yeah?’

  ‘Thank you,’ Jemima answered politely. ‘That would be kind.’

  ‘Fetch some beers, Penny. I need a rest before we see to your butthole.’

  Most of the Americans I’d met seemed to assume that one of my main functions in life was to fetch them drinks, that and allow them to use my body in any way they pleased, but I did as I was told, collecting four cold bottles of beer from the fridge, opening them and dishing them out. I stayed nude as we drank, because there didn’t seem much point in getting dressed when I was due to be stripped again, and it didn’t seem to have occurred to Fishbaugh to provide bathrobes. The beer was welcome too, a little alcohol just what I needed to cope with what was coming, and what I’d done. I knew I shouldn’t have let it get to me, and that it made no real difference, but the word ‘whore’ kept going round in my head, and I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or come.

  ‘You’re going to need to get dressed again, Penny,’ Fishbaugh told me after a while, ‘like you were when you came in. Butt lovers always like tight jeans, but you’re going to need new panties.’

  ‘What’s wrong with my panties?’

  ‘What’s wrong with your panties? Hell, they look like something my grandma might have worn!’

  ‘They’re …,’ I began, and stopped, deciding it was not the time to explain about spanking panties. ‘I like big panties. They’re comfortable.’

  ‘Sure they are,’ he answered, ‘but guys hate them. Ain’t you got a nice, sexy thong.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Borrow one of mine,’ Jemima offered.

  ‘They won’t fit, thank you,’ I told her, thinking of how my bum would look in a pair of her tiny knickers, with flesh bulging out all round. ‘I’ve got some red bikini briefs in the Winnebago.’

  I slipped my jeans, top and shoes on and ran out, not bothering with bra and panties. When I’d parked, there had been almost nobody around, but some kind of sporting event was in progress and I had to run a gauntlet of curious male stares with my tits bouncing bare under my top, which left me more embarrassed than ever. It was even a relief to return to the studio, where I quickly peeled off and pulled up my legs the bright red bikini briefs I’d collected.