Tamsin was silent, her arse wriggling helplessly in front of Rollo’s face; he sank his teeth into her left buttock and bit deeply.
‘Oww!’
He bit her right fesse, twice, then the left again, leaving livid red bruises.
‘Oh! Fuck you!’
Rollo lowered Tamsin’s head into the toilet bowl, until she gasped, spluttering and twisting, as her face sank in the golden lake of her own piss. He put his foot on her back, pinioning her, and parted his cape. He unbuckled his belt and allowed his trousers to fall, stepping out of them, with his cock already massive. The belt was a double snake of black rubber, with a buckle at both front and back. Unwound, it reassembled into a quirt of four thick thongs. With the clawed end of his little finger, he ripped a jagged ladder in each of her mesh rubber stockings.
‘Oh! You fucking bastard!’ she cried, her shriek turning to a gurgle as he pushed her face under the piss.
‘Unladylike language!’ Rollo exclaimed. ‘From the owner of such a lovely lady’s bottom. So tight and fleshy and…whipworthy. You’ve had this coming, Tamsin.’
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
Tamsin threshed, her bottom clenching and squirming and her head knocking against the toilet bowl, as Rollo’s quirt striped her on the bare with twelve vicious and expert weals to mid-fesse. A stream of bubbles floated from Tamsin’s mouth to the surface of her pee.
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
Twelve new welts crossed the first set; Tamsin’s flogged bare buttocks squirmed frantically and Rollo let her come up for air.
‘You fucking —’
Her head sank below the piss again and there was a gurgling sound as she swallowed.
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
Two strokes each, to the left and right haunches, raised a puffy mass of bruises on the tender flesh, followed by four strokes to the top bum, and four to the fleshy underfesse, stroking well down her thigh, almost to her stocking tops. Tamsin’s long, coltish legs jerked and shuddered, as her bare bum reddened, her feet kicking against the walls of the cubicle. Suddenly, there was a plop, a hiss and a stream of hard dark stools bursting from her anus, to spatter her stockings and Rollo’s erect naked cock.
‘Dirty slut!’
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
Each stroke of the quirt the equal of four canestrokes, Rollo took Tamsin’s beating to twenty, until a knock on the cubicle door interrupted him.
‘Is everything all right, mum?’ said Habren. ‘May I be of assistance?’
‘No!’ roared Rollo, slamming the cubicle door open, to reveal Habren kneeling and peeking through a knothole. Habren’s hands covered her juicing cunt; she was masturbating as she watched Tamsin whipped on the bare.
Rollo let Tamsin rise and, spluttering, she gazed round.
‘Why, Angie!’ she cried.
‘Yes, mum, it’s me, Angarad,’ said Habren.
‘A peeking bitch merits thrashing!’ Rollo cried. ‘Wanking herself, too, the slut!’
‘Very good, sir. At your pleasure, sir,’ said Habren, trembling.
‘My, my, Angie!’ Tamsin gasped. ‘You are a true sub…AH!’.
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
Her head once more under her pee, she received a further twelve strokes of the quirt, while Habren held her ankles, on Rollo’s orders. Sitting on Tamsin’s feet, Habren continued to wank off, obeying Rollo’s command to take the glans of his cock between her lips. She engorged his helmet and began to suck, as he continued to flog the threshing Tamsin, while Habren wanked her stiff wet clitty. Her head rose, to plunge again and take Rollo’s cock to his balls with the back of her throat.
‘Yes, slut,’ he gasped. ‘You filthy fucking whore…’
Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!
Tamsin’s whipped bare nates were a livid mass of crimson and purple, when Habren groaned and yelped, as her belly contracted, heaving in orgasm, and she pissed herself during spasm, her pee flowing in a fast hissing stream towards the central gutter. Rollo grunted, then began to gasp, as Habren continued to milk his erect cock, and then groaned as creamy spunk jetted around her lips, dribbling on her chin, with her throat convulsing, as she swallowed the larger portion of his sperm. Rollo released Tamsin, who came up gasping and sobbing, her face red.
‘Learned your lesson, Tamsin dear?’ sneered the male.
‘Going to tell all?’
‘Yes, Rollo,’ Tamsin whimpered. ‘Look! The slut’s pissed the floor!’
‘I’m sorry, mum,’ blurted Habren.
‘Lick up your mess, bitch!’ Tamsin spat, through her sobs.
‘At once, mum.’
Habren knelt, presenting her bare, come-slimed thighs and fesses to Rollo and Tamsin, as she licked up the remnants of her piss, then sank to her belly to polish the floor with her pubic bush.
‘Take off your blouse and bra, bitch,’ Tamsin ordered.
‘You can keep that stupid wax amulet, I suppose.’
Habren obeyed; holding her wax amulet in her mouth and crouching, she picked up all of Tamsin’s splattered stools, squeezing them between her bare breasts and dropping them into the bowl. Then she polished the stool-slimed toilet floor with her pubic forest. Tamsin ordered her to stand for hosing, and directed a powerful jet of cold water over the shivering girl, soaking the stockings and sussies which were her only modesty. Habren sobbed as the jet thrashed her nipples and cunt, drenching her. Tamsin put aside the hose and rubbed her raw buttocks, with a rueful smile.
‘Perhaps I did deserve whopping, Rollo,’ she murmured.
‘I’d say! Never knew a filly that didn’t.’
‘So I’ll show you what’s in Pollecutt’s Box, if…’
‘Show me! Better and better! If what?’
Tamsin looked at Habren’s parted bum-cleft and the thick swollen lips of her piss-flecked juicing gash.
‘If I may punish this bitch for peeking. It’s what you want, Angarad, isn’t it? What you loved, at Pinkarse…’
‘At your pleasure, mum,’ said Habren.
‘No,’ spat Tamsin, ‘at yours. You submissive slut!’
Habren looked at her and smiled, her eyes wide.
‘I am a submissive slut, mum, and must be caned bare-bum for it. I’m…I’m glad you remember me.’
Rollo laughed and slapped his thigh.
‘To Miss Horsfall’s study, pets,’ he said, ‘where we can take our time at wench-thrashing. I have a director’s key.’
He began to reassemble his rubber quirt until it formed two dog-leashes. Habren took her leash between her teeth and Tamsin, glowering, did the same, after crouching to Rollo’s command: her privilege of thrashing the slag depended on her obedience.
‘You are a rotten bastard,’ she hissed as Rollo slapped each bare croup, directing his animals’ arse-meat to the governess’s room.
* * *
‘How do you want to take me, mum?’ said Habren. ‘Over the sofa or crouching? Bare bum, of course, unless you prefer wet knickers.’
‘Angie! Drop the “mum” — it’s Tamsin.’
‘If you please, mum, I’d rather follow prison rules,’ Habren replied.
‘I’ll cane you much harder for that insolence, you luscious young whelp. Best friends — didn’t you ever guess it was your bum I always wanted — to cane those beautiful bare melons raw? You deserve it — your mouth was far too practised, sucking Rollo’s filthy tarse…’
Both women stood nude, but for sussies and stockings, before Rollo Cragg. Unbidden, Habren positioned herself over the back of the sofa, thighs spread, to show her wet jungle of pubic hair, dangling beneath the swollen wet lips of her already gushing cunt. Tamsin put a hand to her own naked gash, frotting herself to moisture, as she traced the cleft of Habren’s trembling buttocks.
‘So pure, even in this place,’ she murmured, then knelt, to bury her nose in Habren’s arse-cleft, nuzzling her anus and tonguing her perineum.
Habren sighed and her buttocks clenched over Tamsin’s nose.
‘How man
y is my tariff, mum?’ she said.
‘Let’s say a round fifty, with the rattan,’ whispered Tamsin, licking her teeth. ‘Yes…a beating to the bone, my sweet slut Angie.’
‘As you please, mum,’ Habren gulped.
Rollo took the heavy rattan from Miss Horsfall’s cane rack and handed it to Tamsin.
‘You haven’t forgotten Pollecutt’s Box,’ he warned.
Tamsin lifted the rattan over the blond girl’s spread bare croup and shook her head.
Vap!
Habren jumped as the wood sprang across her naked buttocks, wealing them dark pink.
Vap!
Her bum clenched and she groaned.
Vap!
Her colt’s legs began to shiver and her arse-clenching became a continuous, squirming shudder.
‘Gosh, mum…’ she gasped.
Vap!
‘Oh…’
‘Does it hurt awfully, Angie?’ said Tamsin.
Vap!
‘Ah! I’d never dreamed it could hurt so much!’
‘Not even at Pinkarse?’
‘No, mum.’
Vap!
‘Ahh…!’
Habren’s taut buttocks quivered as the wood striped her fesses crimson, and Tamsin began to wank off as she caned. Her fingers mashed and rubbed her extruded, swollen clitty; rivulets of come streaked her naked thighs. Rollo stood, with cock erect peeping beneath his cape.
Vap!
‘Oh! Mum…! Oh!’
Vap!
‘I never told you, Angie,’ panted Tamsin, ‘but I have a whole collection of videos with Habren Dodd, the domina — your absolute lookalike. I’d wank off for hours watching her cane innocent young girls on the bare, but wishing that she was a vile sub and I could flog her arse instead. I imagined her as you, with her magnificent bare bum squirming under my rod…’
Vap!
‘AHH! I’m sorry for blubbing, mum, but it smarts…’
‘I never understood subs, but now that Rollo’s thrashed me, I…I’m beginning to,’ Tamsin gasped, her gasp rising to a shriek as Rollo bared his massive cock and, clutching her by the hips, thrust his helmet into her arse-cleft.
‘Then you’ll understand this reminder of our deal,’ he snarled, ramming his cock two inches into her anus — three, four, and finally, as Tamsin buckled at the knees, wailing, penetrating her anus right to his balls.
‘Cane on, my beauty,’ he hissed, as he began to bugger Tamsin, his cock sliding in and out of her squirming anus, right to its hilt, and soon shiny with arse-grease.
Vap! Vap! Vap!
‘AH! OHH…!’
Habren danced on tiptoe, her legs and back shuddering in rhythm with to her shivering, clenched bum-globes, darkening to purple under Tamsin’s rod. Each lash echoed to the slap of Rollo’s hips on Tamsin’s own buttocks as he buggered her. Firmly in Rollo’s clutch, Tamsin wanked off as she caned Habren’s bare, while her nude, quivering body, titties flapping, jerked under buggery.
Vap! Vap! Vap!
Tamsin’s caning was as hard as the male’s impalement of her own squirming bumhole. As she approached the fiftieth stroke, Rollo began to grunt and, just as the cane poised above the jellied mass of purple bruises that were Habren’s bare buttocks, Rollo started his spunk, gasping harshly.
Vap!
‘There…’ moaned Tamsin, wanking herself off with both hands, while Rollo’s spunk frothed at her anal pucker.
Habren’s head drooped, pouring with sweat, over the sofa and she sobbed; her hand clamped her pubis and, as the bugger and his victim both writhed in spasm, Habren’s eyes opened and her arm moved in her own wank.
‘Yes…’ Habren gasped. ‘Oh…oh!’
She moaned long and loud, then held up her palm to show Tamsin that it brimmed with come and smiling at the girl who had flogged her.
‘Thank you, mum,’ said Habren. ‘I am your obedient servant.’
‘Now, bitch,’ wheezed Rollo, ‘Pollecutt’s Box!’
‘I have its contents…right here,’ said Tamsin, reaching into the pocket of her fur coat and withdrawing a gleaming object of braided leather straps around a central core.
‘Angie, be so good as to secure Mr Cragg’s person.’
Habren leapt over the sofa and pinioned Rollo, who gaped at two nude and submissive females metamorphosed. Habren held his arms twisted behind his back, forcing him to crouch, while Tamsin buckled the leather strap around her waist and flicked the monstrous cylinder which stood, cock-high between her thighs.
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘a bull’s pizzle, sir. The tool of Pinkarse initiates since Sir George’s time.’
‘No…please…!’ gasped Rollo as Tamsin parted the cheeks of his arse, oiling the huge dildo with come from Habren’s proffered palm.
‘You see, after Sir George whipped his Vandal girls, as he called them, he liked them to vandalise him…!’
‘AHH!’ shrieked Rollo Cragg, as the massive shaft penetrated his anus. ‘No! No! God! It hurts! AHH…!’
Tamsin’s arse rammed hard as she vigorously buggered the squirming male, held fast by Habren’s armlock.
‘Oh, God, please…I’ll do anything…Ah! Ah!’
‘I dare say. As if your buggery didn’t hurt me, you fucker! The beauty of Pollecutt’s pizzle is that with no cream to spurt, it can fuck you quite raw. When I tire, the girl may have her own revenge, until you’d wish you’d taken a thousand with the cat, rather than be buggered…sir!’
Habren crouched and smiled as a steaming jet of piss spurted from her cunt, straight into Rollo’s flapping jaws. He shrieked, choking and spluttering, as he was forced to swallow her pee. Tamsin’s buttocks clenched taut, her hips slapping Rollo’s own writhing bum, as she rammed the pizzle to the root of the shuddering male’s anus.
‘You fucking bitch sluts!’ he sobbed. ‘Wait until Habren Gaunt gets here! I’m the power behind this slut-cage, I’m senior director of Gauntco, and she’ll have Horsfall cane your arses to ribbons! And…and…oh, God, please stop!’
As she slammed the tool into his arse, Tamsin flicked the peehole of his cock with her cane: the shaft was swelling, rising to full erection.
‘Shame to stop, when being buggered by a girl gives you such a hard-on, sir,’ she spat, as the erect, buggered male sobbed and whimpered.
There were footsteps outside.
‘Thank you so much,’ said Miss Horsfall, outside the door, ‘for your tolerance, Mrs Gaunt. Misunderstandings will happen.’
‘I think we understand each other,’ said Angarad Stark.
‘I’m glad we can show you a caning, given by Miss Coker, to these miscreants,’ said Miss Horsfall. ‘Caught smoking, in the toilets, and…and masturbating each other!’
The door opened: there stood the governess with Angarad, dressed in Habren’s grey shantung silk; behind them, Isobel Coker, leading Clare Cubitt and Ingrid Fage by two dog-leashes, the girls barefoot, in bra and panties.
‘Oh!’ said Miss Horsfall. ‘I hope we aren’t interrupting your television programme, Mr Cragg.’
‘Up to mischief, I see, Miss — Stark, isn’t it?’ said Angie to Habren.
‘Yes, mum,’ replied Habren. ‘I…I expect you’ll wish to whop me for it.’
Angarad smiled thinly.
‘I shall enjoy watching you caned — in due course when your crop of welts has faded,’ she said. ‘How curious that we wear the same necklace — it will be like watching myself caned.’
Her palm cupped Tamsin’s croup, stroking the pumping fesses like kittens, as her buggery of Rollo continued, until he gasped, howled and a jet of spunk spurted from his untouched glans. Tamsin withdrew, kicking him in the anus, and he fell to the carpet, sobbing.
‘You do bear a striking resemblance to the detainee Angarad Stark, Mrs Gaunt,’ said Miss Horsfall to Habren.
‘She is normally well-behaved, but television exposure seems to have gone to all our heads, and I can see from her buttocks that she’s been recently chastised. As, apparently, ha
s poor Rollo — or was it pleasured, Rollo?’
‘The bitch buggered me with…with a bull’s pizzle from Pollecutt’s Box!’ cried Rollo, clutching his buggered arse.
‘Why, you are mistaken,’ said Miss Horsfall. ‘Pollecutt’s Box remains a legend. It is hidden, containing the title deeds to the entire Wrigley Scrubs estate and village, granted to whomsoever possesses the key to open it.’
‘I approve thoroughly of your regime,’ said Angarad, ‘and promise that under Gauntco’s franchise you shall retain your position, Miss Horsfall — in fact, I may well exploit your talents further. Girls in costume shall continue to discipline men in high places, with even greater refinement and gusto. Here, I might suggest, rather than give Miss Coker the bother of chastising these two slags, they should cane each other.’
‘Of course, mum…’ murmured the governess.
Angarad selected a short, whippy yellow cane from Miss Horsfall’s rack and ordered Clare to bend over, while Ingrid gave her twenty-one on the bare; then, vice versa. The two girls’ faces were a mixture of glee and sullenness, as Clare bared and spread her buttocks for her beating. Ingrid lifted her cane to her full arm’s height.
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘Ohh…!’
The cane whistled as Ingrid lashed Clare’s naked arse and Clare grimaced, groaning.
‘Hard as you can, Ingrid, or you’ll take double Clare’s strokes!’ said Angarad.
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘Ahh…!’
Clare’s bare bum-pears shook, clenching, as the thin cane striped deep.
Vip! Vip! Vip!
‘Ahh! Bitch!’
‘Thank you, Mrs Gaunt,’ said Miss Horsfall. ‘I’m quite giddy at the thought of Wrigley Scrubs’ being on the BBC.’
‘Rollo Cragg isn’t from the BBC, though,’ said Isobel.
‘Neither is Tamsin Pollecutt,’ said Angarad.
‘Oh! You know each other,’ said Miss Horsfall.
‘I know Angie Stark,’ panted Tamsin to Habren, ‘but aren’t you Habren Dodd, the film “whip queen”?’
‘Who chastised the detainee Stark?’ asked Angarad, staring at her twin’s livid, bruised buttocks.
‘I did,’ blurted Tamsin. ‘I’ve known Angie a long time…the slut was in denial, refusing to accept she’s a dirty little submissive who craves punishment.’
Caged! Page 26