The Indulgences of Isabelle

by Penny Birch

  For me, that was perfect. I was going to come and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I thought of her, my darling Katie in nothing but her sandals and top, her bare, smacked bottom on show and her face pushed in between my cheeks, licking at my open, slippery anus as she brought me to an exquisite orgasm. This was how it should be, not with some dirty bastard dangling his balls in my mouth but with my beautiful, obedient girlfriend applying her tongue to my bumhole. I cried out as I came, calling out her name and telling her again and again I loved her until my body finally gave way and I slumped down over the willow branch, blissfully satisfied.

  Katie pulled back, giggling, and I managed to look around. Her face was a mess, smeared with mayonnaise and pussy cream. Quite a lot had gone down her top, while there was also some in her hair. I knew I wasn't much better, with my bottom and thighs all sticky, but fortunately there was a little water left among the picnic leftovers, along with some serviettes. We cleaned up as best we could, but Katie had to do her top in the river and walk back with the wet material plastered to her breasts almost as far as the bridge before it had dried. Even then we had to sneak into Foxson by the back gate.

  Four

  Katie and I spent the night together in her room, but I got up early to cycle back to St George's. Not many people were about and I used the pass key she'd given me to let myself out of the back gate, only to reach it at the same time as a group of scouts were coming in. Among them was Edna and I gave her a friendly greeting, which she returned. It was a little embarrassing, because I realised now that it was at Foxson I'd seen her but without ever really focusing on her as distinct from anybody else who was regularly about. I'd never really bothered to make a secret of my relationship with Katie, and scouts are notorious gossips, which meant that Edna might well know about us.

  I put the thought out of my mind as I cycled back, concentrating on the forthcoming Rattaners meeting instead. The situation with the Owl was going to make it a little difficult, but after my weekend with Katie, especially her spanking and the aftermath, I was feeling both dominant and confident in my ability to keep everything under my control. If Portia was a brat about it I would know what to do, and I wasn't going to take any nonsense even from Eliza.

  For the next three days I did my best to concentrate on work, something I've always tried to do no matter how interesting my social life may be. A lot of students find it difficult but it's really only a question of self-discipline. I even managed to finish my essay early, and Duncan rated it as on the border between an Upper Second and a First, which put the final touch to my confident mood.

  The previous Rattaners party had been pretty well ideal, with a good venue, a good group of people and a good game to get things moving, so there wasn't going to be a great deal to discuss – although one good idea had occurred to me. Sarah and Portia were particularly skilful at arranging games with the right balance, and the one we'd played had been excellent. I'd even enjoyed the rule about having to switch if you drew a joker, because while I had very definitely not wanted to get one it had made me feel we were being fairer to the submissive girls and it had made the play deliciously tense, while there had always been the chance that Sarah herself would draw one. Only afterwards had she admitted to me and Eliza that the jokers hadn't even been in the pack, making us promise not to tell the other girls.

  It had struck me that with a bit of thought I might be able to arrange an even better game, one that would seem entirely fair and yet would ensure that I would be able to dominate Sarah, perhaps even Eliza, although I was not at all sure if I'd dare in her case. In order to be sure of my success I would have to introduce some element of skill to give myself an advantage, and the darts game had provided me with the answer. I knew that Yazzie played, and that Jasmine and Caroline did occasionally, but to the best of my knowledge none of the others did at all. An idea, provisionally called 'Top Dog', had begun to evolve, and in my mind I was putting the finishing touches to it as I entered the Bodleian.

  'I have the Latimer Room booked,' I told the librarian, who responded with a nod and didn't even ask to see my card.

  I went up, to find that I was almost the last to arrive, despite being a few minutes early.

  'You're all very keen,' I said.

  'I wouldn't miss this for the world,' Sarah responded, putting down the book she'd been reading.

  There was something in the tone of her voice that I didn't quite like, while Portia looked positively smug. Jasmine, Caroline and Yazzie were at the other end of the table, talking together, but they turned to greet me with wan smiles. Eliza was also there, standing at the window as she pointed out Oxford landmarks to Tiffany. Both had turned round as Sarah spoke.

  'There you are, Isabelle,' Eliza said. 'Shall we begin?'

  Her voice was stern, but that was normal for her. Tiffany's vindictive smirk might also have been normal, but I didn't like it at all.

  'Is something wrong?' I asked.

  Portia shook her head, as if my question was ridiculous.

  'You know very well there is, Isabelle,' Sarah said, 'and I would have hoped you would be honest enough to admit what you've done.'

  'What?' I asked, genuinely puzzled.

  'Isabelle has been talking to that ghastly man Tierney,' Portia supplied, addressing Katie, who had just come in. 'What do you think we should do about it, Katie?'

  Katie just looked blank, but I struggled to answer.

  'No, I . . .' I began, and stopped.

  'Don't try and lie your way out of it, Isabelle,' Portia said.

  'It wasn't like that!' I insisted as my stomach began to tighten in very real fear. 'He . . . he came up to me in the quad and started saying all sorts of filthy things. I had to tell him to shut up.'

  'You were at the Red Ox,' Portia pointed out.

  'Sorry, Isabelle Kyou,' Yazzie added. 'I did not know, but I told only the truth.'

  'That doesn't count!' I blurted out. 'I . . . I . . .'

  '. . . Spoke to Tierney, and to the barman, and several others,' Portia finished for me, 'which is against the rule you yourself put forward last time. What was the punishment again, Sarah?'

  'There's no need to be smug about it, Portia,' Eliza responded.

  'Look, Eliza,' I appealed, 'this isn't fair at all!'

  'It seems entirely fair to me, I'm afraid,' she answered. 'You yourself suggested the rule, and the same rules apply to everybody equally.'

  'She suggested the punishment too,' Portia said with relish. 'To be given to dirty old Walter Jessop for the night.'

  'I do wish we could watch,' Tiffany put in as she bent to lean on the back of Portia's chair, still grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  'Ahem,' Eliza coughed. 'Isabelle has broken the rules, but there is no call to torment her unnecessarily.'

  'Yes, Portia,' Katie put in. She slipped an arm around my shoulders.

  I felt as if I was about to burst into tears, and all I could manage was a helpless shrug. To refuse pointblank would completely destroy my authority with the Rattaners and might even destroy the society, or get me expelled, which would be worse. I was going to have to go through with it.

  'There it is, then,' Eliza concluded. 'Jasmine, perhaps if you would be kind enough to call Mr Jessop this evening?'

  'OK,' Jasmine answered. 'Sorry, Isabelle, but it's only fair.'

  I hung my head, feeling dazed, only for a sense of hope to spring up. They could send me to Walter, but he couldn't make me do anything, while I knew that Katie or Caroline would help me out by giving him some dirty little treat in return for his complicity.

  'How are we going to know if she gives in to him?' Portia asked. 'You know what she's like when it comes to trying to worm her way out of things.'

  'That's not true,' I lied.

  Portia answered with a derisive snort.

  'One of us could go with her,' Eliza suggested. 'Or perhaps Mr Jessop could take pictures?'

  'No!' I said hastily. 'They'd probably end up all over the Inter
net!'

  'Only we would see them,' Eliza assured me. 'And Mr Jessop, of course, but he has always been trustworthy so far. Afterwards I would delete them.'

  I made a face, imagining Portia and Tiffany sniggering over photos of me bum-up over Walter Jessop's lap, doing a striptease, pulling on his wrinkly old cock, sucking it . . .

  There had to be a way out.

  'I propose that we abandon that rule,' I said. 'It was badly thought out.'

  'Yes, it was!' Portia laughed. 'Let's vote. All those in favour of abandoning the rule about talking to Tierney and Co?'

  To my surprise Portia had raised her own hand, and Tiffany followed suit, making the vote unanimous.

  'So much for that,' Portia said. 'But you still have to be punished.'

  'No, I . . .'

  'Yes,' Eliza said firmly.

  I slumped down in my chair, biting my lip. She was right, and I had nobody to blame but myself, which only made me feel worse.

  'I think she ought to be spanked first,' Portia said, 'before we send her to him.'

  'That's not part of the punishment,' I answered her, although I could barely get the words past my lips because of my growing feeling of chagrin.

  'Not for speaking to Tierney,' Portia went on, 'but for lying, and for trying to wriggle out of your fair punishment. You'd do it to me, wouldn't you?'

  'Yes,' I admitted, and threw my hands up in a gesture of despair. 'But still . . .'

  'Good,' Portia said firmly. 'She gets spanked first. We can meet somewhere and—'

  'Ahem,' Eliza interrupted. 'I see no reason for Isabelle to be spanked before she is sent to Mr Jessop. However, I am very disappointed in you, Isabelle. A dominant woman must earn the respect of others in order to deserve it – and that includes acknowledging her mistakes with a good grace. So I would have expected better of you when it comes to accepting a just punishment.'

  'I know,' I admitted. 'I'm sorry.'

  'Which is why I am going to spank you,' Eliza stated. 'Now come here.'

  I went, too weak to resist the authority in her voice. She was right too, for all that she was going to thoroughly enjoy doing it, just as the others were going to thoroughly enjoy watching – with the possible exception of Katie, who looked genuinely sorry for me as I laid myself meekly across Eliza's lap. I had fondly imagined I would never again be put in spanking position, but despite the three months since what was supposed to have been my final punishment I found it embarrassingly easy to give in to Eliza's authority.

  'Lift your hips,' she ordered, and I went up on my toes.

  My long printed muslin dress was tugged up my legs and lifted onto my back, exposing my panties and making me wish I'd chosen something more ladylike. They were actually Katie's, but our underwear tended to get mixed up and it hadn't occurred to me that I'd end up showing them off, least of all to the giggling Portia. Not that they were indecent, just plain white cotton panties, except for the picture of a large yellow teddy bear stamped on the seat along with the legend 'A Bear Behind'.

  'Oh dear, oh dear!' Sarah chuckled. 'I do wish I had a camera.'

  'I'll use my mobile,' Tiffany offered.

  'No!' I squeaked, but too late, the flash catching me just as Eliza put her hand to the waistband of my knickers.

  'Stop it, or you'll be next,' Eliza warned. 'I freely admit that I have missed doing this, Isabelle.'

  With that she took my knickers down, not just off my bum, but all the way down to my knees, leaving me showing behind. Again the phone camera flashed.

  'Tiffany!' Eliza snapped.

  'Sorry,' Tiffany answered quickly. 'I just couldn't resist it! I can see your cunt, Isabelle.'

  'You are next,' Eliza informed her.

  Tiffany went quiet, but knowing that she was next in line was very little consolation to me. It was her favourite thing, as she freely admitted, whereas I had openly stated that I would never get it again.

  I was going to get it now, though, with my dress high and my ridiculous panties pulled down to leave me bare and vulnerable, with Eliza's hand resting gently on my bottom. It would be hard, too: a firm, no-nonsense punishment spanking. The thought set me trembling with apprehension.

  The reason that Eliza hadn't started already was the suspicion that somebody was outside, coming up the staircase, their footsteps barely audible. Katie had already locked the door and was standing with her back to it, but it obviously made sense to wait. Unfortunately that meant me being held in place with my naked rear on show until Eliza was sure that we were safe, and even then I was left worrying what somebody would have been doing lurking outside the room when there was nowhere else for them to go.

  'I had better be quick,' Eliza remarked, and laid in.

  From the very first smack I was out of control, unable to cope with either the stinging pain or the awful humiliation. I did try not to howl, but my legs were kicking and the tears had started from my eyes before I'd had more than a dozen firm slaps applied to my wriggling bottom. Portia was laughing at me, and Tiffany was giggling uncontrollably for all that she had the same punishment coming to her, which made it far worse.

  I just let go, blubbering my heart out and squirming over Eliza's lap, with my red-hot bottom jiggling and bouncing in my teddy-bear panties, my legs kicking or splayed wide to show off my pussy and bumhole to my eager audience. Even Katie was watching, her hand to her mouth in shock and sympathy, but her reaction wasn't important. What mattered was that I was being spanked in front of her.

  'That will do, I think,' Eliza said, and then it had stopped as suddenly as it had begun. 'But I think a little corner time would do you good.'

  She gave me a last gentle pat as I got up and I went to the corner, shuffling in my panties, which had fallen down to my ankles. I was still crying, with a big bubble in my throat that wouldn't go away and my nose damp with snot. Behind me, Tiffany was soon being given the same treatment, and making as big a fuss about it as I had. I didn't care because I was feeling too sorry for myself even to want to watch, and I only took a quick glance to make sure that she'd had her bottom bared. She had, with her expensive designer jeans in a tangle around her knees and a bright orange thong pulled well down. Eliza had even hooked one leg around Tiffany's calf, which hadn't been necessary with me and meant that Tiffany's bottom cheeks were fully spread with her pussy and bumhole blatantly on show. But even that failed to cheer me up. I'd been spanked, and that was all that mattered.

  The same words kept going through my head as Tiffany was dealt with and I stood snivelling in the corner. I'd been spanked, spanked across an older woman's knee, spanked on my bare bottom and spanked in front of my friends, all things I loved to do to other women but hated having done to myself, and yet there was no denying the warm glow in my cheeks and the hot, moist feeling of my pussy. Maybe I hated it, but when it came to getting excited over it I was no better than anybody else. Then I was just another rude little tart. I burst into tears again at the thought, only to be told in no uncertain terms to shut up.

  'Somebody's outside!' Jasmine hissed.

  'Are you sure?' I demanded, snatching for my panties.

  'They just tried the door!'

  'Oh God! No, don't worry. Katie, get the book. I'll get rid of them.'

  'You said we'd be safe, Isabelle!' Portia snapped.

  'Stupid girl!' Sarah added, glaring at me.

  Katie produced a copy of Varney the Vampire from her bag as Tiffany and I hastily adjusted our clothing. As Tiffany fastened the button of her jeans she gave me an encouraging grin, which I returned, the two of us now allies against the uncomprehending world despite the way we had treated each other. I made for the door, wondering what I would say.We had got badly carried away, even Eliza, but there was simply no reason why anybody should have come up to the top floor when the Latimer Room was booked, never mind try to get in.

  I opened the door. It was the Owl, nearly three-quarters of an hour early.

  'Isabelle?' she asked, sounding worried.


  'Hi, Amy Jane,' I managed.

  'I saw you earlier,' she said doubtfully. 'Did you get the time wrong?'

  'Um . . . yes,' I told her. 'Sorry.'

  'That's OK. I'm here now. Hi, everybody.'

  The answering greetings sounded distinctly nervous to me, but Amy Jane didn't seem to notice. I was sure she'd heard what had been going on and I was frantically searching for a plausible cover story as she took a seat at the table. Unfortunately, a girl's bottom being spanked sounds like a girl's bottom being spanked, and really like nothing else – or at least nothing that was likely to have been happening in a reading room at the Bodleian Library. We had been relying on anybody approaching being heard on the stairs, but with me in the corner and Tiffany over Eliza's knee nobody had been paying proper attention and in any case the Owl's approach had been virtually inaudible.

  'Have you been doing a reading?' Amy Jane asked brightly.

  'Yes,' Katie told her.

  'Don't let me get in the way, then.'

  As Katie began to read, Sarah leant close to whisper in my ear.

  'This is all your fault, Isabelle!'

  It wasn't, but I was going to be punished for it anyway. I'd always teased Portia for the way she sulked about her punishments, but now I knew how she felt. It just wasn't fair, when everybody had agreed that the Latimer Room would be safe if we were careful. Admittedly I'd invented the James Malcolm Rymer Society and made the actual bookings, but the fact was that if they hadn't insisted on spanking me for talking to the Red Ox crew then there wouldn't have been a problem. But now there was, and only Katie and Caroline made any attempt to defend me while it was agreed that Eliza should punish me properly at the next Rattaners party.

  In fact, the punishment probably was just, but for a different reason – one that I hadn't dared tell anybody. I was sure the Owl had heard, and pretty sure she knew what had been going on, but she hadn't said anything. That surely meant she was in league with Tierney and had kept quiet in order not to spook us during my chastisement. In consequence, he presumably knew that we'd met, from which he was sure to conclude that we'd be holding another party soon.