by Livia Grant
The gems all complained and would never admit it, but the vast majority of the spankings delivered and received under the saloon’s roof were the fun kind the ladies enjoyed.
That would be the kind Opal received today.
“You know what to do, you naughty girl. Over the bench you go.”
Opal’s exaggerated pout could playact in the best theatre production in San Francisco. “Do I have to?” she whined.
“Now. If you delay, I’ll add on licks.” Charlie could play the role of disciplinarian with the best of them.
She scrambled to drape herself over the heavy furniture, placing her knees wide on the padded leather platforms before reaching forward to grasp the wooden handles close to the floor. The position placed her bare bottom perfectly in the air to receive her chastisement.
With her head down, she wouldn’t be able to see what implement, if any, he would be using, but Amy’s eyes followed him as he moved to the large shelf that housed bath products of all sorts. Her eyes grew wide as she watched him pick up the wooden paddle brush. The heat that filled her expression told Charlie he’d be taking the time to roast her little bottom, too, before the night was over.
“Kneel in front of the bench, Amy. I want you to hold Opal down. That’s it. Put your hands around her wrists and hold them in place. Don’t let her wiggle out of position, you hear? If you do, I’ll be sure to take it out on your little behind as well.”
“Yes, sir.” Her response was a small whisper that fueled the domination flowing through his veins.
He took his time, stretching out the anticipation until bringing the back of the brush down in the center of her right cheek followed by a fast strike to her left.
“Owie! That’s too hard!” Opal complained.
“It’s a spanking, Opal. It’s going to hurt.”
“Yes, but…” she didn’t finish her sentence. She was too busy gasping in air as fast smacks of the heavy brush connected with her pale fanny, dusting it first with a pink blush followed quickly by a red hue. Charlie kept a hard and fast pace, never letting up as he built Opal’s sexual tension to a snapping point. He moved the brush up and down, left and right—paying special attention to her vulnerable sit spots. When he hit that particular sensitive patch, she started to truly struggle to be free. Amy had to work to help her friend stay in position.
By the time she had shed her first tears, Charlie’s own erection was as hard as steel. He never partook in true intercourse with the gems, but for the first time in a long time, he found himself regretting that particular resolve. He had to fight down the urge to step up close and plow his tool deep inside her womanly folds. It took all his self-control to drop the brush and step close to drag his fingers through her slick cunny instead.
The gems teased him that his piano playing fingers knew how to play a woman’s body every bit as well as they knew how to tickle the ivory on a piano. Considering Opal burst into a screaming orgasm in less than one minute of his finger’s probing, they might be right.
While he was sure the gems would service him weekly with or without their own pleasure, he took great pride in knowing he knew exactly how to push the proverbial buttons on each of his gems. He also knew that many, if not most, of the men they serviced during any given week couldn’t give a damn about returning any pleasure to the women. No, most men came for one thing. To satisfy their own sexual appetite. If the gem under them received pleasure—well, that was by accident.
But not with Charlie. His number one rule was his gem of the week would receive more pleasure than she could handle before he took his own. It was part of their game and it had the gems fighting over scrubbing his back.
With one completion racked up, Charlie went to work on her next. He crossed to the vanity to grab a small jar he kept there before carrying it back to the recovering Opal. Amy watched vigilantly as he opened the jar and coated his three middle fingers on his right hand with the slippery cream from the jar. Her eyes widened when she saw how much he used and he grinned back at her conspiratorially, adding a playful wink.
Amy hadn’t released Opal’s wrists and knowing what was coming, he noticed her doubling her efforts to hold her still.
Charlie used his left hand first to pinch and tease Opal’s now swollen nub of pleasure, taking time to stroke her wet nether lips until she was breathing heavy again from the foreplay.
He met Amy’s heated gaze behind their friend’s back, brushing his cream-covered middle finger across the tight little pucker winking up at him from the prone gem before him. The cream took a few seconds to go to work, but they knew the second Opal realized what he’d used because she roared up, getting away from Amy, pressing up off the bench and scrambling to her feet.
Charlie was ready for her. He used his left hand to first press her back into position before grabbing for the heavy hairbrush. The next stroke of the punishment to her bare bottom corresponded directly with the full insertion of his middle finger deep into her anus.
His finger remained buried while he renewed the punishment. Unintelligible groans filled the space as Opal’s senses were overwhelmed with pleasure and burning pain. He recognized her rocking rhythm against the furniture and was again tempted to plunge his rock-hard erection into her pussy.
Instead, he added a second and then a third finger to her bottom. Her rosette expanded to accommodate his thrusting fingers, yet he knew the tender tissue inside was stretching and the hot cream would add a layer of torture to the pleasure.
Throwing down the brush, he reached around her body to finger her clit. He played her body like a fine instrument, driving her over the cliff to a screaming climax within minutes.
He left Amy to comfort her friend as she came down from her high while he moved to wash his hands in the nearby basin of cool water. His own fingers burned from the game, but it was well worth the price.
By the time he returned to the spanking bench, Opal was pushing to her feet. Overwhelmed with emotion, she rushed into his arms and they enjoyed an intimate hug. He was surprised when she moved to kiss him. He jerked back just in time for her lips to graze his turned cheek.
“I don’t understand you, Charlie. You see nothing wrong with sticking your fingers where the sun doesn’t shine, but you won’t give me a proper fuck or even a proper kiss. You don’t know what you’re missing out on.”
Oh, but he did. He knew those were two lines he didn’t want to cross with the gems. They were too intimate. It took a delicate balancing act to share these intimate times with the fallen angels and not allow himself to feel emotions that would interfere with his ability to watch them go upstairs, night after night, with a new man, knowing what was happening in the rooms above his head. He often heard the thumping of a headboard against a wall or the steady rhythm of a chastising belt against a bare bottom.
No. He needed to keep his rules. Nothing good would ever come by growing too fond of any of the gems, at least not the kind of fondness that would drive him to actually fuck them or even worse, kiss them.
He didn’t answer Opal. There was no point. They’d had the conversation before. “Your turn, Amy. Assume the position, little girl.”
“Yes, sir. If I could be so bold…”
“Yes, darlin. I’ll be repeating the same treatment Opal received with a bonus.”
“Yes, sir.” He heard the anticipation in her voice as she lowered herself across the spanking bench.
Amy’s bonus was she wanted the hot cream not only filling her puckered hole, but she adored it when he’d lather it across her nubbin—taking a minute first to stroke it to a swollen bundle of pleasure that became too sensitive to touch. The burn of the cream would bring exquisite pleasure.
“Hold her tight now, Opal.”
He was sure Nettie had to hear Amy’s scream when he put a thick dollop of hot cream directly on her exposed clitoris before using a finger to drag the excess heat back through her wet folds, across the tender skin that connected her pussy to her rosebud and plunged a
dollop deep inside her when he thrust two fingers in past his knuckles on one thrust.
He finger-fucked her hard and fast, letting the frenzy of their shared desire take hold, plunging inside her again and again.
He felt the contraction around his fingers, but didn’t let up. He demanded more of her. She wouldn’t be done until she’d come again.
His own cock strained for release, but he stayed focused. Her pleasure came first. His fingers knew her body, yet he had to fight to keep the pressure where he needed to because she was rocking back and forth, desperately chasing the high she needed.
He sent her crashing over the peak by thrusting cream-covered fingers deep in both her holes, filling her. Dominance coursed through him as he barked his order to Opal. “Reach forward and pinch her nubbin. Hard.”
Opal’s pupils dilated at the naughty order, but she followed his directions, pinching her best friend’s delicate bundle of nerves that received far too little attention from most customers. Charlie chuckled at the intense grip the muscles of Amy’s cunt and back passage held on his buried fingers. He stayed inside her until he felt her relaxing before slipping out of her now loose holes. He gave her a strong smack before returning to the basin to wash his hands.
He came close to shooting his seed onto the bathroom floor when he turned back towards the gems to find them kissing. Not a platonic, friend kind of kiss, but the hot and bothered, open mouth kiss of lovers.
“Well fuck, that’s hot as hell. I think it’s time you put those mouths to better use over here now, darlins.”
The friends pulled apart, grinning mischievously at each other first and then turning their naughty thoughts to the only hard shaft in the room. Each woman crawled seductively on their hands and knees the few feet across the thick rug. Not for the first time, Charlie understood why the good men of Culpepper Cove spent so much of their hard earned gold and cash on the fallen angels of the Red Petticoat.
Each woman had their own charms and he considered himself a lucky man to be able to partake of those charms on a regular basis. If it meant abstaining from true intercourse, they sure made up for it with those talented mouths and tongues of theirs.
Opal reached him first, kneeling up and pressing her palms against his muscular thighs as he’d taught her in their previous trysts. Charlie’s fingers wove through her thick brunette hair and in his desperation, pulled her against his body until her nose pressed against his belly. Being the pro that she was, Opal took his length in her throat without protest and without so much as a gag.
He held her there, trying to hold off his impending spend as long as possible. The little minx made it harder when she swallowed around the flesh in her throat. The added contraction set him off. He had to push her off him to avoid shooting his seed like a damn rookie.
Opal grinned as she sat back on her feet, letting the string of spittle dribble down her chin without bothering to swish it away. She looked like the naughty girl who she was.
Not to be left out of the fun, Amy kneeled close, reaching out to cup Charlie’s swollen balls in her warm hands, massaging his nuts—manipulating them until he was sure she’d be able to milk the seed out of him without so much as a brush to his cock.
He needed to regain his dominance. “Hands behind your back. Mouth open wide.”
She raced to follow directions. He plunged his throbbing penis into her throat. Unlike her best friend, Amy struggled to take his full length, gagging as she fought to accommodate his length and width. Her struggle brought tears to her lust filled gaze. He gripped her head and held her still, thrusting his hips back and forth to fuck her throat properly.
He chased his pleasure, holding off as long as he could. Knowing his explosion was only seconds away, he barked his next orders.
“Hop back up here, Opal. You’re gonna both take another bath. This time in my seed. Both of you, lift up your titties for me. That’s it. Give me a tempting target.”
The gems rushed to please him, palming their own heavy breasts, squeezing them while pressing them up. They were like an offering to the gods.
Charlie’s left hand encircled his own cock, using the perfect pressure to grasp his tool while stroking himself off. Within two strokes milky white cum spurted out first onto Opal’s waiting mounds before he pointed his hose towards Amy, covering her with the third and fourth globs of warm spunk.
A minute went by as they all froze, gasping for air to recover from the intense session they’d shared. Charlie was suddenly exhausted. He couldn’t wait to fall into bed, satiated. He had one final thing to do before that could happen.
Using his pointer fingers, he reached out to the two women’s globes, scooping up cum on each hand and moving the wetness up towards the women’s mouths.
“Open up for me. You need to taste me.”
Dual groans filled the space, but the girls did as they were told, opening wide to accept his digits, closing their lips around his fingers and sucking for all they were worth as he plunged deeper, causing a gag.
Charlie helped them to their feet when their game was over. They spent a few minutes embracing as a threesome before he reached for one of the wet cloths to help wipe down their privates and traces of his seed from their breasts.
They each quietly dressed in their nightclothes and said goodnight before the ladies climbed the stairs to their own bedrooms. Charlie returned to his room, more tired than he’d felt in a long time and not having a clue why.
He planned on getting a solid night’s sleep with visions of beautiful women surrounding him.
He was a damn lucky man.
Chapter Three
“How much for a little something extra, honey?” The local blacksmith covered in grime insisted on placing his hands on her behind. Emelie balanced the small serving tray on her left palm, using her right hand to slap away the unwanted grope. He got in a last pinch before she managed to extricate herself from his clutches.
In the five days since she’d been thrown out of the theater troupe, she’d discovered several valuable lessons.
First, men out numbered women ten to one in this wild new city. As a result, there was nowhere she could go that horny men did not proposition her. To date, she’d managed to maintain her distance enough to avoid disaster, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she met someone determined enough to have her that she’d not be able to fend them off.
Second, she found that she had almost no options without money. This was not a surprise to her, but ten dollars wouldn’t last long and she had no chance of getting home unless she made some serious money, which is how she found herself working as a serving girl every day until her feet ached.
Third, she discovered she was a lot stronger than she’d given herself credit for. That first night alone she’d hid beneath a large tree in a park, terrified of being discovered and grateful for the warm weather. The next morning she’d set off and landed a job that came with room and board.
Since then she’d spent a lot of time alone hiding in the tiny broom-closet of a bedroom she’d been given in exchange for twelve hours of working as a server in the rowdy pub across from the wharf. The owners, Mr. and Mrs. Patton, had even thrown in one free meal per day out of the kindness of their heart.
She made that one meal count.
Albert had often criticized her for being too thin as it was, yet she could feel her only gown getting looser already.
Unless she planned on living at the pub the rest of her life, she knew she needed to make a change. She’d been thinking long and hard and, just that afternoon on her mid-day break, had left the relative safety of the pub to mail her heartfelt letter to her parents back in Wisconsin. She’d spent days penning the words of apology and regret, spilling more than a few tears on the parchment paper Mrs. Patton had been kind enough to share. She’d happily paid the seventy-five cents to post the letter and now she had nothing to do but wait. Well, wait and work.
She made another important decision that day. She would n
eed to find a second job if she planned on making any additional money. Sure she’d made a couple dollars in tips, but she’d never make enough to pay for her trip home at this rate.
On the way back from posting her letter, she’d inquired at the mercantile, the laundry and even the lumberyard. No one needed the help of a small slip of a woman when there were strapping men everywhere looking for work. Without fail, every employer had recommended she look for a job on her back, pointing out that with her looks and body, she’d be rich in a month.
She’d given it serious thought for approximately five minutes, but found she couldn’t do it. Surely she was already going to hell for the unnatural perversions Albert had perpetrated against her body—well, that and for disobeying her mother and father and for missing church services for over five months. The checklist of her transgressions was already long, but she couldn’t add voluntary fornication with strangers to the list.
Which led her back to her present situation—serving drunken miners, sailors and laborers for a few pennies tip per shift.
In the kitchen, the smell of the stew on the fire and biscuits baking had her empty stomach growling. She still had another two hours to go until she’d earn her dinner break. She was feeling weak and poured herself a glass of cool water trying to fortify herself.
“Here’s the order for the table closest to the door, child. They’ve been waiting for fresh biscuits.”
What she’d give for a few minutes’ respite off her aching feet. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Patton had been a kindly employer, although she couldn’t understand why the woman stayed with her grouch of a husband. Emelie did her best to steer clear of the owner of the pub since he insisted on criticizing her every move.
She picked up the large tray loaded heavily with full bowls and plates and headed out to the dining room. She saw Mr. Patton behind the bar in deep conversation with a dangerous looking man who wore holsters filled with guns. She’d grown accustomed to seeing weapons on the patrons, but that didn’t mean she liked being near them. No one had ever come in looking like they were ready to go to war before and she tripped when she got caught up watching the normally angry Mr. Patton kowtow to the grizzly looking patron at the bar.
