Strip Girl

by Aishling Morgan

  ‘Why don’t you come and do it?’ she suggested.

  ‘I want to watch you,’ he said. ‘I want to see the expression on your face as your finger goes in up that dirty little hole.’

  Sarah swallowed and nodded, his rude words too compelling to resist. Deliberately turning her head so that he could see, she stuck a finger in her mouth, sucking it as the thought of how indecent she was about to be raged in her head. No decent girl would touch her own bottom hole save to wipe herself or in the bath, and certainly not in front of a boyfriend, only she wasn’t a decent girl. She was a slut, just as Céleste had said, only too willing to show off her bottom and tickle the tight little hole between her cheeks, even put a finger inside.

  She reached back to stroke her cheeks and between, feeling her open crease and shivering at the thought of what Giles could see. Her bottom hole was on plain show, and he wanted her to touch, to put a finger in. A moment to overcome a last barrier of decency and she’d done it, tickling the puckered bumpy flesh of her anus, a sensation at once so rude and so good that she was quickly sighing in pleasure.

  It was almost too much, to have a man behind her as she teased her anus, even her boyfriend, so utterly indecent, but far too good to stop. He was erect, thinking how his cock would feel in that same tiny hole. She felt a touch of fear at the prospect. Her hole was so tight, her anal ring a puckered knot of muscle, completely closed, even with her spit-wet finger caressing and pushing at the central pit.

  ‘Relax,’ Giles advised, ‘let yourself open, as if you were on the loo.’

  ‘I can’t!’ Sarah sobbed. ‘I’ll poo myself!’

  Giles chuckled and stood up. Sarah twisted around, wondering if he was simply going to climb up on the bed and have her anyway, his patience lost as he forced her anal ring, buggering her on the bed whether she liked it or not. He didn’t, but went into the bathroom, emerging a moment later with a tube of toothpaste.

  ‘This will help,’ he told her. ‘Hold your cheeks apart.’

  Sarah obeyed, her feelings of exposure and shame growing stronger still as she reached back to haul her meaty cheeks wide, stretching out her anus. There was a maniacal quality to his grin as he climbed on top of her, straddling her legs to pin her down as he poised the tube over her open bottom. He squeezed, extruding a fat green worm of toothpaste from the tube, which broke and fell, landing right on her anus with the faintest of squashy sounds.

  ‘Rub it in,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll hold you wide.’

  His hands found her bottom cheeks, spreading them wider still. She shut her eyes again, shivering with shame-filled pleasure as her finger went to her anus, squashing the little coil of toothpaste onto her ring. A little went in up her hole, more squashing out around her finger. She made a face, the slimy feeling at once disgusting and intensely pleasurable as she begun to rub it in, only for the cool moist sensation to start to grow warm, then hot.

  ‘Ow!’ Sarah protested. ‘That burns!’

  ‘I know,’ Giles said happily, ‘but it’s made you nice and loose, hasn’t it?’

  Sarah’s answer was a gasp, aghast at the trick he’d played on her, and yet there was no denying it was true, the toothpaste had not merely begun to lubricate her anus, but the now ferocious burning sensation was making her sphincter go loose, and she knew it would no longer be hard to get her finger in.

  ‘You bastard, Giles,’ she sighed, and she’d done it, slipping one finger in up the well-lubricated ring, and deeper.

  Her mouth had come wide as she began to finger her bottom, the burning sensation, the feeling of being penetrated and the impossibly improper knowledge that here she was touching her own bumhole all coming together in a rush of wanton ecstasy that broke what little resistance she still had. Not that it made much difference, with Giles pinning her to the bed, his rock-hard erection towering over her naked vulnerable bottom and sure to be plunged deep up her now-open hole as soon as she vacated it.

  Another touch of fear hit her at the realisation that she was now going to be buggered, and with a cock thicker by far than the finger now working urgently in her burning anus.

  ‘Wait,’ she managed, breathless, and gasped as she eased in a second finger alongside the first, then a third.

  She was whimpering as she felt her anal ring stretch wider still, with reaction and for the thought of how she must look, bottom up over a bolster in a French hotel room, her bottom cheeks held wide and three fingers inserted up the slippery gaping hole between. Giles’ cock touched, prodding the softness of her thighs, and higher, into the groove between leg and buttock.

  ‘Okay,’ Sarah gasped as she pulled her fingers free. ‘Do it, Giles … gently, but do it … right up my bum …’

  Her voice broke to a moan, of despair for her dirty feelings and of pleasure as she felt the rounded rubbery bulb of his cock tip press between her thighs but not to her sex, to her anus. She buried her face in the bed, clutching the sheets in an agony of emotion as she felt her virgin bottom ring start to spread, slimy and hot around his invading penis, taut, so taut she was sure she would split, only for her muscle to suddenly give and a good half the length of Giles’ cock to jam suddenly up her bottom.

  ‘I’m in you,’ he gasped. ‘I’m up your bum, Sarah … God you’re so lovely, so tight, so hot, so meaty, so fat …’

  Sarah felt a touch of chagrin for his words, even as he wedged another inch or so of penis into her rectum. His balls touched between her thighs, the hair tickling her, and where his pubes were between her bum cheeks, but one more good shove and he was right in. Sarah was unable to resist a moan of pleasure as she felt the mass of his ball sack press to her sex. He was in her, up her bottom, his stiff cock moving in the cavity of her rectum, something so unspeakably rude she was shaking her head as much in reaction to her emotions as to the sensation of her buggering.

  Still she was wishing she’d been spanked, but first, after a little ritual of punishment, put across the knee, her panties taken down, her bottom spanked, made to open her own anus with a finger as he watched, and finally buggered. She was saying the word over and over again as he picked up his pace in her rectum, his hard belly now slapping her bottom and his balls beating a rhythm on her empty cunt. Already she knew she was going to want it again, and not merely as a surrender to his lust, but for her own sake, or best of all, as a punishment.

  As the thought hit her she was fighting to get her hand to her sex, desperate to rub off while she was given her first ever buggering. She couldn’t do it, the bolster was in the way, but with Giles now grunting and panting on top of her, thrusting so hard that her anal ring was pulling in and out on his cock, every slap of his balls on her sex made her more urgent still. She sobbed in frustration, only for her mind to find a way out, telling her that it was for the best, that if a man buggered her as a punishment she shouldn’t be allowed to come. Yes, that was perfect. When she did something wrong in future she would be spanked and then buggered by the man who’d spanked her, the ideal way to handle a naughty girl.

  ‘So good,’ Giles moaned, suddenly slowing his pace, ‘so, so good … God I love you, Sarah, you gorgeous fat-bottomed little trollop, and now I’m going to spunk up your bum.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sarah gasped as he once more started to thrust, ‘do it up me, Giles, and tell me what a bad girl I am. Tell me how you like my bottom … my fat bottom. Tell me how you’re going to … to punish me, Giles, to spank my fat cheeks and stick your cock up my bottom hole … punish me, Giles, spank me and bugger me and spunk in my bottom!’

  She was screaming the words out as she finished, and he’d done it, finishing off up her bum with a crescendo of furious shoves then going suddenly still, his cock held as deep as it would go. Her body was being crushed down into the bed, but the instant he had finished and began to relax her hand was burrowing back and her knees coming up, lifting herself into a kneeling position as she began to babble.

  ‘No, no, keep it in, Giles … keep your lovely cock in, deep up, and sm
ack me … smack me … spank my naughty bottom while I come, Giles, go on, you bastard, do it!’

  Her hand was on her sex, clutching at her swollen lips, and higher, thrusting two fingers into her vacant cunt with a third raised to touched the junction of his cock and her anus. A jolt of pleasure not far from orgasm hit her at the feel of her taut ring, stretched out around the intruding penis, and she began to masturbate with the palm of her hand as her fingers groped at his balls, her empty cunt and best of all, her straining buggered anus.

  ‘You are such a little slut, Sarah,’ Giles laughed, and brought one hand down on her bottom. ‘Imagine wanting your bottom spanked!’

  At his words her muscles tightened, the first contraction of orgasm, brought on by the exquisite shame of being spanked and laughed at while she was spanked. He began to beat out a rhythm on her bottom cheeks, chuckling as he did it, and she was there, the contractions now violent as she pictured how she would look, on her knees, stark naked, her fat pink bottom stuck in the air, his cock deep in her bumhole as her big wobbling cheeks were spanked.

  Eight

  After the ecstasies and unrealities of Paris, London felt mundane to Sarah, even in the company of Giles. The events of the previous week already seemed remote, her virgin buggering little less so than the encounter with Céleste du Musigny and Monsieur d’Orsay. She knew at a rational level that the latter was impossible, but she found herself unable to acknowledge that as important. She had been smacked across Céleste’s knee as surely as she had been buggered, both events sharp in her memory, while she had the painting to prove it.

  One of the first things she had done on getting home was to hang it, in her own room where she would be able to admire it for the sake of inspiration and to remind herself of what had happened. The only drawback was that it also reminded her of why she had been punished, and Céleste’s threats of further punishment, but even there her reaction was ambiguous. The spanking had hurt, sucking Monsieur d’Orsay off had been utterly disgusting, both experiences had been deeply humiliating, yet she found herself craving more of the same, in turn guilty for being unfaithful to Giles, and in turn again craving punishment from him in the form of spanking and sodomy.

  That at least she got, in bed together on their first night back, with him slipped in from behind her, first in her vagina and, when a little juice had run down to lubricate her anus, up her bottom. She was still bruised and sore, so it hurt more than the first time, but she felt she deserved it and made no complaint, especially when he pushed back the covers and began to smack her exposed cheek.

  In the morning she was waddling somewhat, and had to make him promise to leave her bottom alone for a while, although it seemed a shame to abandon what had already become a craving. She had agreed to go down to Berkshire with him at the weekend and meet his parents, a prospect she found both flattering and alarming, but both turned out to be very different from her expectations, while she also found herself enjoying Rebecca’s company.

  On the following Monday they met with Hugh Bowle, who told them he had secured yet another syndication, this time in Korea. Giles stayed that night but left in the morning as Sarah needed to work, and once more she found herself seated in front of her drawing board with a pure white sheet of A2 in front of her and her pencil in her mouth as she considered the third episode of ‘Graverobbers’. They had been through it, and in theory it was simple, and extremely rude. The first frame was to show Céleste meeting with the three roughs in a Parisian back alley, the last to show her standing in the half light of the graveyard while the men began their gruesome task. All the other frames were supposed to show her having sex with the three men and, while she was only supposed to hint at what was really happening, both Giles and Hugh wanted her to imply that Céleste not only took one of the men up her bottom, but that she actively enjoyed her buggering.

  After a few minutes of tapping her teeth with the pencil and making a few tentative lines, Sarah gave in to the inevitable and went to fetch a bottle of wine. For all her change in attitude over the last few weeks, she simply could not bring herself to draw Céleste being not only so lewd, but with such men and in such an environment. It was utterly sordid, the exact opposite of Céleste’s character, while it was all too easy to imagine what Sarah’s own fate might be.

  The least she could expect was to be dragged into an alley and put through her paces by three men in her mouth, sex and anus, and while Céleste watched. Just thinking about it made both holes tighten in her panties, and telling herself not to be ridiculous made no difference at all. It had happened before, and so it could happen again, while she couldn’t even be sure if not going to Paris would be a defence.

  It was hardly being faithful to Giles either, but after two glasses of the strong Chilean red he’d brought over a few days before, she was telling herself that he’d written the story, so he could hardly complain if the consequences were that his girlfriend got gang-banged in a Parisian back alley. If it didn’t happen then there wasn’t a problem, but if it did, then it was plainly his fault.

  She tried to start drawing, but found herself unable to put the pencil to the page. It was just too strong, to think of how she’d find herself unable to disobey Céleste’s orders, probably taking down her own panties and pulling up her top to show her breasts, unless of course Céleste chose to spank her first, or simply threw her to the men. They’d soon have her clothes off, probably torn off, or left hanging in rags around her body as they used her, one big cock forced down her throat, another pushed to the hilt in her pussy, a third jammed deep up her straining anus.

  It was outrageous, unthinkable, but then so was being spanked in public and holding her bottom open for her boyfriend to bugger her, and she had done both. There was also the prospect of revenge, because as the wine began its work she was feeling rather less passive about what had been done to her. After all, she hadn’t shown Céleste being spanked, just doing what any girl might do, although admittedly with a fairly gross man. Yes, the punishments had been completely out of proportion. Perhaps if Sarah had been made to take down her panties and hold her top up for Monsieur d’Orsay the first time, and to suck him the second, then that would have been fair, but to spank her, and in public! Céleste had it coming, and the fact that Sarah had come to crave punishment made it worse. After all, what a terrible thing to do to somebody, to make them yearn for their own degradation.

  Slowly, carefully, she began to draw a rat. He was a nasty rat, a big rat, fat and sleek, with great chipped incisors and an evil gleam in his eye. Another, smaller rat lay nearby, dead, the victim of a disputed fish head which the first was now eating. Beyond the rats were a pair of dustbins, overflowing with refuse, and beyond that four dark figures, three male, the fourth female, Céleste, with her face lit by a single dim lamp at the end of the alley. Money was changing hands.

  Already she had done enough to give the prissy little bitch a fit of the vapours, and Sarah was grinning as she continued, knowing she had already gone too far, much too far. She began to pencil in more detail, now working fast, first the leering expectant face of the leader of the three roughs as he suggested sex. Under no circumstances was it possibly to show Céleste simply accepting, so Sarah drew the second rough leaning in to make her an offer she had little choice but to accept. There was no room for anything more subtle or more elaborate, that was that, Céleste was going to have to satisfy all three, right there in the alley.

  They were a fine trio, real pigs, a father and two sons, right out of the gutter. Raoul was the father, middleaged, hard-faced, with an ugly scar running down his forehead and one glass eye. He was dressed in coarse workman’s clothes, his cock a monstrous thing, huge and wrinkled, lying on a bulging scrotum as he presented himself to Céleste and demanded she suck him.

  Marcel was the eldest son, a lean vicious creature whose features Sarah modelled on the king rat she had drawn in the top frame, taller than his father and with genitals to match, his cock unnaturally thin and long and b
ent. He could appear in the background of the third frame, easily visible as Céleste sank to her knees to take Raoul in her mouth, waiting his turn with his erect penis in his hand.

  The younger son would be Lamond, as tall as his brother but bigger by far, obscenely fat with a stupid drooling face and a great stubby cock, short in proportion with an outside helmet already taut and shiny with blood as he watched his father’s penis grow in Céleste’s beautifully painted mouth.

  With all three roughs pencilled in, Sarah swallowed what remained in her glass. The scene was coming on nicely, but it remained to show Céleste first trying to get it over and done with, then losing control and making an utter slut of herself, just as Sarah had done with Monsieur d’Orsay. First a few clothes would have to come off, which meant a series of small frames, with Raoul’s dirty fingers digging into Céleste’s immaculate blouse, pulling, tearing it wide and turning up her expensive designer bra to expose her breasts, the nipples already erect.

  That left room for one more good-sized frame, showing the expression on Céleste’s face. It was one of utter revulsion as she sucked on the now rock-hard penis in her mouth, with Raoul pawing one pert breast to leave dirty finger marks on the smooth white skin. Marcel was watching with a cruel grin. Lamond was giggling inanely as he pointed out Céleste’s erect nipples as evidence of her excitement.

  Sarah swallowed, imagining herself in the same position, breasts out and sucking cock, about to utterly disgrace herself as she gave in to her needs. Until that point she’d need to be made to do it, but afterwards … afterwards she’d be playing with her breasts and rubbing her pussy under her skirt, she’d be pulling aside her own panties to offer her sex, she’d be sucking on Raoul’s balls with a finger up her bum to get herself ready for one of his sons to bugger her.