by Penny Birch
I was sopping wet, puffy with arousal and extraordinarily sensitive, every touch of my fingers sending a fresh shiver of pleasure through me. For all my efforts to deny my feelings my body had betrayed me, and I was even regretting having won the game, because if I'd lost I would have been up at the Red Ox at that very instant, very likely with a large salty pair of balls in my mouth. It was a revolting thought, and utterly compelling, and as I began to rub myself with ever-increasing urgency I was once again imagining what would have happened.
I would probably have been done in the little storeroom at the back, where in the past I'd been made to do some truly disgusting things. Jack would have marched me in and told me to strip, gloating over my body as I removed my clothes, making me play peek-a-boo with my bra and stick out my bottom to peel my knickers down the way the men liked girls to strip. He'd have had his cock out long before I was completely naked, nursing his erection and showing off to me.
I'd have been made to take him in my hand, and to suck him, on my knees in the nude, before going down full length on the beer-stained floor. He'd have had to take off his trousers in order to straddle me, so that as he got down I could've felt his hairy muscular legs against my skin, with his cock rearing up above my face and his horrible scrotum dangling beneath. Horrible, yes, but I'd have taken it in my mouth, gradually losing control as the man-taste filled my senses, until my thighs came up and open in surrender, just as they had in reality.
Jack would've had Tierney in to watch too, and Big Dave, and Mike, all gloating down at me as I sucked and licked at the big leathery ball-sack, and all the time expecting a face full of muck. They'd have laughed as I got dirty, enjoying the sight of my spread pussy and the tuck of my bottom, probably rolling my legs up so that my bumhole showed too, perhaps touching me up, spanking me. That would have been best, to be thoroughly abused as Jack pinned me down, touched up and slapped about as my face was masturbated in.
They couldn't have resisted. They'd have fucked me, taking turns with me, cock after cock jammed deep up my all too willing pussy. They'd have spit-roasted me, made me taste my own juices on their cocks, maybe sodomised me too, and come up me, and over me, leaving my body slimy with their filth as I rubbed myself to orgasm after orgasm, exactly as I was now doing, with my bottom lifted free of the bed and my fingers clutching over and over at my dirty eager cunt, wishing that I really was in that grubby sordid club with my body sweaty and soiled on the filthy floor.
I was sobbing for my own deliberate degradation as I came down, and as I went slowly limp on the bed the clock outside struck midnight.
It was completely my fault. If I hadn't got a bee in my bonnet about Tierney and the Owl I would never have gone anywhere hear Cowley, still less the Red Ox. Once I was there I could still have backed out with at least moderate grace, but even then I had won my match and come away with my dignity intact. There was absolutely no excuse whatsoever for masturbating over the filthy fantasy that I'd managed to create, which had been stronger by far even than what Jack had suggested he'd do to me. It was all deeply humiliating, and it took all my willpower not to take it out on other people, especially Katie.
She and I had made an agreement when we'd first started going out that we'd sleep together at the weekends but stay apart during the week so that we had at least a fair chance of getting some work done. The arrangement had worked and had also helped to keep our relationship fresh, because my need for her would always grow stronger during the week so that when we did meet we would each be urgent for the other.
Technically, two women sleeping together was acceptable, although there were still social issues which we both preferred to avoid rather than confront. Spanking was another matter, especially at Foxson, where the walls were like paper and the 1960s design made the whole place a voyeur's delight. There was a quad of sorts, with one side only a single storey high to allow a view over the Cherwell and the fields beyond, with Shotover in the distance. Each room was a box, with a huge picture window, so that the interior of the quad was mainly glass and anyone with their curtains open was visible to at least two hundred others. I'd often threatened to spank her there, just because it made her so deliciously embarrassed, but in practice I'd always stuck to less noisy amusements, such as dripping hot wax on her bare bottom, and with the curtains firmly closed.
My own room was considerably more discreet, but on the Saturday we met in Summertown and so ended up at Foxson. The night was spent just cuddling, along with one session head to tail, more or less as equals. We had been that way for most of the summer, keeping our kinky activity special, and exclusive, perhaps in much the same way that Yazzie seemed to. The next day we'd agreed to meet the Owl, and we took a picnic down to the Parks to enjoy what was quite likely to be the last really nice day of the year – there was already a distinctly autumnal feel to the air.
I listened very carefully to the Owl's conversation, hoping for some hint of her association with Tierney, but she gave nothing away. Several times I almost said something myself but always stopped in time. If she had been talking to Tierney, then she was a very good actress because she seemed completely at ease, or as much so as her natural shyness would allow. A lot of the time she was talking about James Malcolm Rymer, and fortunately I had taken the time to read up on him. More awkwardly, she wanted to know when the next meeting was.
We had actually booked a reading room for the Wednesday afternoon, and because all the librarians recognised me I'd had no choice but to put it under my own name. All the Owl had to do was check the book and she would see. If she was linked to Tierney then she'd presumably checked already, and if she wasn't but saw the booking later it would hurt her feelings. The only thing I could think of was to say that the meeting was an hour later than the real time, so that she'd turn up after we'd finished all our Rattaners business and I could pretend I'd misremembered. It was a pretty clumsy excuse, but better than nothing.
'I'll see you there, then,' she said. 'For now, I've got to buzz.'
The Owl hadn't said anything about needing to be anywhere else, and as she receded across the meadow I wondered if she was going to see Tierney. I hadn't said anything yet to Katie but when I'd decided to she spoke first.
'Whatever are we going to do about her?'
'I don't know,' I admitted. 'I'm not entirely sure she's what she appears to be.'
'How do you mean?'
'I think she might something to do with Stan Tierney.'
'The Owl? Don't be silly!'
'I'm not being silly. I went to see a film with her in the week, and Tierney came up to me in college the next day. He knew we'd had a party.'
'Caroline or Jasmine probably told him, or maybe Portia's up to something. She's determined to put you down – you know that, don't you?'
'Yes, but I don't think she'd risk the punishment. And why would Caroline or Jasmine tell him?'
'Why would the Owl tell him, and how would she have known anyway?'
'She knew we were both out on Saturday night.'
'I suppose so, but still . . .'
'Maybe I'm wrong, but after what happened with the Line Ladies I don't trust him an inch. I followed him after work, but he just went to the Red Ox. I ran into Big Dave and ended up having to play a game of darts before I could get away.'
'Isabelle, you're not really supposed to speak to them.'
'I didn't have any choice. Anyway, I'm hardly likely to give the game away about Yazzie, am I?'
'That's true,' she admitted. 'But still . . .'
'If you tell anybody, Katie West, I swear you won't be able to sit down for a week.'
She stuck her tongue out at me. I made a grab for her, catching an ankle. She squeaked as I rolled her face down on the grass, and again as I hauled her towards me. The movement made her skirt come up and put her knickers on show to the entire Parks. The temptation to spank her was almost overwhelming, but we were in plain view of a good forty or fifty people so I held off.
'Later,' I prom
ised her. 'Now, about the Owl. I suppose we'll have to arrange a reading from Varney the Vampire or something, just to keep her happy.'
'I suppose so.'
Katie had stood up to adjust her skirt, and we began to tidy up the picnic things. It was beginning to get cool, although not unpleasantly so. We were holding hands as we walked, indifferent to the occasional curious glance, and we crossed the river by Rainbow Bridge and began to walk north. To get back to the right side we were going to have to go right up to the Marston Ferry Road, but neither of us minded. That stretch of the river can be quite lonely, especially once the punting season is over, and we'd used the thick hedges of willow and hawthorn as concealment before.
I was in the mood for her from our brief tussle in the Parks and also because since giving in to my fantasies on the Thursday night I badly needed to reassert myself. Time and again after I've managed to get control of my life and my sexuality that little spark of submission and the desire to be degraded has sprung up again. But this time I was determined it wouldn't get the better of me.
'It's time you were spanked,' I told Katie as we reached the first of the hedges.
She responded with the faintest of smiles and I gave her hand a gentle tug, leading her away from the river. There was barely even a trace of a path on the bank, and I felt safe, yet sufficiently exposed to make what we were about to do feel delightfully naughty. Our hedge ended in a knot of trees, which proved to conceal a shallow bowl of dried mud, rough with hoof prints and smelling faintly of cow, although there were none in the field right then. Katie wrinkled her nose.
'Don't be prissy,' I told her, and sat down on a low willow branch. 'Over my knee.'
I'd cocked one leg up, and after a brief but nervous glance to either side Katie bent over. It wasn't an easy position for her, and she had to spread out her hands and her feet in order to balance herself properly, which left her in looking both vulnerable and awkward. I pulled up her skirt without ceremony, showing off her knickers which were white with a strawberry pattern and clung tightly around her ever so slightly chubby bottom.
'You can keep these up, at least for a little while,' I told her. Then I began to spank her.
Just to have her knicker-clad bottom to play with was wonderful. It was bliss to smack it and stroke the soft cotton of her panty seat, to admire the bulging roundness of her bum cheeks, and, best of all, to enjoy her absolute surrender. I could feel Katie trembling, and knew how much shame and embarrassment would be raging in her head, just as it had in mine while I'd thought of what Jack had threatened to make me do. Yet as always she was eager to please, allowing me to do whatever I wanted and taking as much pleasure in my control over her as in the smacks I planted on her bottom.
I began to play with her panties, tugging them up tight to let her cheeks spill out from either side and holding her by them with the material taut against her pussy as I continued to spank. Her bum globes were already quite pink, and she took it sighing and wriggling, abandoned to the pleasure of exposure and punishment. I pulled tighter still, lifting Katie by her hips so that she was forced to brace the toes of her sandals on the hard mud. Her thighs were well spread, her pussy a small plump bulge in her straining panty gusset, her cheeks parted so that I could see the tiny creases of flesh to either side of her anus where they led down beneath the material of her stretched panties.
'You make a fine sight from behind,' I told her. 'But maybe I can make it ruder still.'
Katie gave a faint acquiescent moan, then a squeak as I pinched the gusset of her knickers together, leaving her pussy lips bulging out to either side of the material much as her bottom cheeks were. Her panties were now tight against her clitoris, and I began to jerk on them and spank at the same time, making her gasp and shake her head in reaction.
'You're going to come, aren't you?' I said. 'You're going to come while your naughty little bottom is being smacked. How humiliating is that, to have an orgasm while you're being punished? You're a bad girl, Katie – a bad, bad girl. You need your bottom spanked long and often . . . and as for wanking off dirty old men, you bad, bad, bad girl!'
I was spanking hard, using the full force of my arm across the chubbiest part of Katie's bum cheeks and jerking continuously on her panties. She started to come, panting out her helpless ecstasy as her bottom bounced to the smacks, hopefully with her mind fully focused on the picture I'd just tried to put in her head of her sitting bare on Duncan's lap with his cock in her hand, a well-smacked little tart giving the man who'd punished her a hand with his inevitable erection.
Katie cried out at the peak of her orgasm, with shudder after shudder passing through her body, and I continued to spank her until she was lying limp and exhausted across my knee, her blazing red bottom stuck high. When I finally let go of her panties she nearly fell off my leg, but I kept hold of her torso, taking her around her waist as I began to stroke her hot cheeks.
'You came, and I didn't even have to pull your panties down!' I mocked. 'What a little disgrace you are, Katie West.'
Her response was a whimper. She'd come, and now it was my turn. But I wasn't comfortable, with the rough willow bark pressing into my bottom.
'You're going to lick me,' I told her, 'from behind. But first, let's have these off, shall we?'
I'd taken a fresh hold of her knickers as I spoke, and pulled them down and off. Katie would be bare while she licked me, with her red bottom showing to the air, and even if I wouldn't be able to see it I would still know. I wanted her yet more exposed, to keep her nervous and on edge, so I unfastened her skirt and took that off as well before letting her up. She was now naked but for her sandals and top, very obviously stripped for sex, which was just the way I wanted it, and all the better for having had her bottom smacked. 'Hang your skirt and panties on a branch,' I told her. 'Then come back.'
Katie scampered quickly across to the hawthorn bush I'd indicated, then back, throwing a single worried glance at her abandoned clothes.
'Good girl,' I told her. 'And how very undignified you look with your rosy little bottom on show – and your pussy, too.'
The position I was planning to get into wasn't exactly dignified either, but I was too turned on to care. And besides, Katie knew me too well to be impressed by any pretence of reserve. I quickly took off my jeans and knickers to leave me naked from the waist down before bracing myself against the willow branch, my bottom stuck out for her attention. She got straight to her knees, hesitated for just an instant, then buried her face between my bottom cheeks, licking eagerly at my pussy.
'That's my girl,' I sighed, and allowed my weight to settle onto the willow branch, only for a deliciously wicked thought to enter my head.
The bag in which we'd packed away the picnic things was resting against the trunk of the tree, within easy reach. I pulled it closer, rummaging in it, and Katie pulled back.
'Isabelle!' she protested. 'That's not very fair, sorting out the stuff when I'm trying to make you come!'
'Shut up and lick,' I told her. 'Remember, the longer you take the more likely you are to get caught with your knickers off.'
She gave a little tut, perhaps intended to remind me that I was in an equally embarrassing position, then went back to work. We'd had cherry tomatoes, and there were a few left, also some mayonnaise, which was messy but too good to resist.
'Take the rest of my things off,' I told her.
Katie didn't even stop licking, but pulled off my shoes and socks, to leave me entirely bare below the waist, just as she was. That made what we were doing riskier still, since I was now as likely to get caught bare as was Katie. But that just made it even more exciting.
Taking the tomatoes, I reached back under my belly. Katie pulled away, giggling as she watched me ease each of the small red fruits up in my pussy. They felt nice, and if they didn't fill me very much it was still a pleasantly unfamiliar sensation, because while I sometimes fucked Katie – with a variety of implements – she never fucked me. For a moment I was fighting back t
he memory of how good it felt to have a cock inserted into me, only for Katie to start nuzzling and kissing at my bottom.
'I'm glad you like doing that,' I told her, 'because you're going to have to lick this up.'
I'd picked up the bottle of mayonnaise, and Katie gave a little choking sob as she saw it and realised what I was going to do. She'd licked my bottom often enough, but it always got to her. I unscrewed the lid and reached back, poising the bottle over where my cheeks flared out to pour a thick stream of warm sticky mayonnaise between them. It trickled down over my bumhole and around where the last of the cherry tomatoes was stuck up my pussy, before it flowed on over my mound.
'Now lick it all up,' I ordered her.
Katie came close again, poking out her tongue to lap up the mayonnaise. Some of it had gone over my cheeks instead of between them, and she started with that. I relaxed, knowing that it would take her a little time to steel herself for the indignity of licking my bottom-hole clean but that she would eventually do it. Sure enough, the flicks of her tongue moved deeper, lapping the salad cream up from my crease, and lower still. She gave a tiny, broken sob, and then she was doing it, her tongue in my anus, lapping up the mayonnaise and burrowing deep into my bumhole.
Her face, no doubt smeared with mayonnaise, was buried between my cheeks, but she obviously didn't care, lost in her submission and thoroughly enjoying licking my bottom. I let her indulge herself for a while and move lower in her own time to suck the cherry tomatoes out of my hole one by one. Now that there were no inappropriate thoughts to spoil my feeling of dominance. I was completely in control, with my well-spanked girlfriend licking my pussy and bottom clean, kneeling near-nude in the dirt with her face filthy and her tongue exactly where it belonged.
We hadn't gone as far in a while, but Katie was as eager as ever, with her face pushed well in between my parted arse cheeks and her nose against my slippery bumhole as she tongued me. I thought she'd make me come like that, but she obviously wanted to make her humiliation as complete as possible so she returned her attention to my anus, rubbing my pussy with a knuckle as she licked.
