by Penny Birch
I had been expecting to spend the Saturday night in bed with Matthew. In my experience the first night of a relationship generally means sex with everything, breakfast included. I’d been rather surprised when he’d made his excuses and left to go back to the farm. The explanation for this was apparently that his brother was something of a tyrant and also a terrible moralist, which rather shattered my image of Matthew as the dominant male. I went back with the Scotts instead, spending a comfortable night in their cottage in the village.
Why Matthew couldn’t have come and rogered me senseless at the Scotts’ was beyond me. Michael and Ginny were good company and I was half-expecting an invitation into their bed, which I would have gladly accepted. It didn’t come and I ended up playing with myself instead and even got a good night’s sleep.
Matthew joined us again in the morning and my slight annoyance was soon forgotten as the air of erotic expectation built up again on the drive. From the onset, I was the centre of attention. First, they teased me into taking my panties off under my skirt, then into pulling my skirt up so that my bum was bare on the seat. Ginny, in particular, seemed to enjoy having me make a display of myself and suggested that I ought to strip, only to have Michael point out that getting arrested on the way to Amber’s wasn’t going to make a good start to the day. I compromised by taking my skirt off completely and sitting there bare from the waist down.
I was in the back with Matthew and it didn’t surprise me at all when, a few minutes later, he guided my hand to his fly. I gave him a look of mock surprise but drew his zip down. Ginny had turned back to the map and was busy helping Michael find his way around a new bypass. Matthew’s cock was already half-stiff as I pulled it out, squeezing the thick shaft in my hand and then starting to pull up and down. It quickly became hard and I couldn’t help smiling at the expression of bliss on his face as I stroked him to full erection.
We were in fairly heavy traffic and it was a great thrill to be half-naked and fondling Matthew while other people could see our top halves through the window. I checked around us to make sure there were no high-cabbed vehicles near us and then leant over, taking his cock in my mouth. He groaned and took me by the hair, attracting his sister’s attention.
‘Matthew!’ I heard her exclaim.
‘What are they doing?’ Michael asked.
‘The little tart’s sucking him off!’ Ginny answered, obviously delighted by what I was doing.
Michael laughed and a delicious thrill of humiliation went through me even as I promised myself that I would get even with Ginny. She seemed to take a particular pleasure in my exposure and immodest behaviour, and I didn’t see why she should get away with being so cool and demure. I returned to my task of sucking Matthew off, ignoring Ginny’s occasional taunting remark from the front seat.
‘You two better hurry up,’ Michael remarked after a while. ‘We’ll be going through a town in a few minutes.’
I began to suck harder and faster, holding the base of Matthew’s cock tightly with one hand and squeezing his balls with the other. After less than a minute I felt his muscles tighten and was rewarded with a mouthful of come, which I dutifully swallowed. Looking up, I found buildings around us and a set of traffic lights ahead, on red and with several people milling about on the pavement.
Matthew managed to get his cock out of sight fast enough, but I was still struggling with my skirt when we stopped. A man on the pavement gazed at me non-committally through the window and then gave me a look of complete amazement as he caught sight of the puff of black pussy hair that I was trying to cover up. At his exclamation, his wife turned and gave me a look of utter disgust as I finally managed to cover myself.
The lights changed and I caught the single word ‘slut’ as we drove off. All three of my companions were laughing and I was blushing furiously as we drove down the main street of the little town. I stayed quiet, feeling extremely embarrassed and thoroughly turned on. Risking making an exhibition of myself in public had always appealed to me, but I’d never been brave enough to actually take a serious risk of getting caught. I’d also fantasised about flashing, but had never dared do more than sunbathe topless in a park, which was pretty much acceptable anyway.
The result of all this was that, by the time we pulled up outside Amber’s saddlery, my pussy was soaking and I was seriously hoping that the process of getting my tack was going to involve plenty of physical attention to my body.
Amber Oakley surprised me. I knew she preferred other women to men and so had been expecting someone pretty butch. I’d like to think that I’m fairly immune to the popular image of lesbians as gargoylefaced viragos with potato-sack bodies. Amber Oakley, though, looked like she’d stepped out of the pages of Horse and Hound. A little above average height, her face was pretty, cheerful and framed by tawny curls. Her figure looked compact and was indistinct beneath a loose cream jumper and a long skirt, but hinted at firmness and muscularity coupled with undoubtedly feminine chest and hips.
She greeted Ginny with a hug and shook hands with each of the men, only then turning her attention to me. Her first glance told me that she was keen on me and I found myself blushing slightly as she kissed me on each cheek. The feeling was mutual, and I found myself guiltily watching the swell of her bottom move under her skirt as she turned and went into the house.
‘So,’ she addressed me when we were settled around her kitchen table with coffee or glasses of beer, ‘what would you like?’
‘A set of tack,’ I replied uncertainly, as I assumed that Matthew would already have told her what we needed.
‘Like Ginny’s… and a tail.’
‘Tails take a bit of time, especially if you want the design that goes up your bottom,’ she replied in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘Do you?’
I hesitated before answering, rather taken aback by the completely casual way in which she was discussing something so intimate. ‘Yes, please,’ I managed after a moment, realising that my voice sounded quiet and shy and wishing I could be a bit more assertive.
‘Good,’ Amber replied, taking a sip of beer from her glass. ‘I’ll need to take a few measurements and I should have everything ready for you by next week. The tail will take a little longer, but I’ll do it as fast as I can. If you just want a harness like Ginny’s, that’s great, but there are other options and lots of extra bits and pieces.’
‘Like what?’ I asked.
‘Blinkers, martingales, hobbles, saddles… lots, really. I can show you, if you like?’
‘Good idea,’ Ginny put in before I could answer.
Amber swallowed the last of her beer and we followed her out of the kitchen. Behind her house was an area of concrete and a large red brick building with big double doors and a smaller door at the end. Across the yard, a thick hedge blocked our view, the sole gap in it revealing only another line of hedge a few feet beyond.
Amber unlocked the small door in the brick building and ushered us in. It was like stepping into another world. The interior was scrubbed red brick, square and high, the ceiling lost in the shadows. A bench occupied one wall, covered with pieces of leather and tools. More leather lay in skins on a rack and an old tea chest full of scraps stood in one corner. The sweet, faintly animal smell of the cured skins pervaded the place, a rich, heady aroma that I found intensely erotic.
Above the desk a line of pegs held a variety of instruments, some familiar, some not. To either side the pegs continued, but held complete items of harness, rope, lengths of chain, whips of every sort I’d heard of and several I hadn’t. Finally, on the last peg, hung a long implement of dark brown wood with a curved handle; an old-fashioned school cane.
I found myself swallowing as I eyed the implements and cast a nervous glance at Amber. She smiled back, and glanced up towards the ceiling. I followed her gaze into the dim heights of the room. Above me, barely visible in the gloom, hung a set of iron manacles suspended from a pulley in the very peak of the roof. I starred open-mouthed at the device for a moment, t
hen looked back down to find myself staring directly into Amber’s eyes. She gave me a wicked smile that told me exactly where she would like me to be.
A very odd feeling indeed was going through me. Half of me wanted to run away; the other half wanted to be hung in the manacles and whipped — naked, with everyone watching. I also felt very alone and vulnerable. Matthew and Michael were studying the pictures of pony-girls in various harness that decorated the walls. Ginny was leafing through the skins, feeling their texture and sniffing each in turn.
All I could do was lower my head and look at the ground. I had been completely unprepared for the effect Amber was having on me. I’d found Ginny attractive and felt a little guilty about it, but with Amber both feelings were far stronger. I wanted to be at her feet, or kneeling naked between her thighs, licking her pussy. Her hand would be tangled in my hair. My bottom would be spread and vulnerable to flicks from one of the long whips that hung on her wall. I’d be in a collar, my ankles and wrists secured with cuffs…
‘Right, this won’t take long,’ she said, shattering my daydream. ‘Penny, have a look at this and tell me if you prefer any of the styles of harness or if you fancy any of the bits and pieces.’
She handed me an album which I opened to find pictures of pony-girls done up in various styles. I immediately recognised Ginny but there were around five different girls in total, mostly standing elegantly in their harness but some in close-up or in positions that showed off various bits of tack. I found myself shivering as I turned the pages. I kept thinking how exposed and rude the girls looked, then how I must have looked just the same, the previous day.
One harness in particular appealed to me. It was a sort of cross between the waist belt Ginny had and a corset, done in soft-looking black leather and giving a wonderful curve to the model’s waist. It seemed ideal and I ordered it, drawing appreciative agreement from everyone. I also chose a bridle exactly like Ginny’s, but with a single hair ring for my shorter hair. That was the basics, but I wanted to be as smart as possible and so chose a hobble to fit around my thighs, wrist and ankle cuffs, and bells to attach to my cheek rings.
‘How about some for your nipples?’ Amber asked, turning a couple of pages to show me a picture of a full-breasted girl with sweet little strings of tiny bells clipped onto each nipple. ‘I’ve actually got some finished. They’re for another order, but you can try them on, if you like.’
I nodded and it felt the most natural thing in the world to peel my top off and undo my bra, baring my breasts to all four of them. My nipples were already erect, but Matthew walked round behind me and took a breast in each hand and ran his fingers over them anyway. I sighed and closed my eyes, relaxing into the feeling of having my breasts fondled.
‘Ready,’ I heard Amber say, and opened my eyes to find her standing in front of me with a clip in each hand. Matthew cupped my breasts, holding them up for Amber to clip the bells onto my nipples. I squeaked when the little clips took hold but the initial shock quickly subsided, replaced by a pleasant sensation of pressure.
Matthew jiggled my breasts to make the bells ring and Amber smiled at me, reaching out and tapping a clip so that my stiff nipple wobbled slightly under the weight of the bells.
‘She looks really sweet,’ Ginny put in, also reaching out to stroke one of my breasts. ‘I’d like some of those too, please.’
I closed my eyes again, lapping up the feeling of three people playing with my breasts at the same time. Matthew’s hands were under my breasts, holding them up while Amber and Ginny played with the bells on my nipples.
I really thought they were just going to have me on the spot, all four of them. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen. Matthew’s hands left my breasts and Ginny and Amber took the nipple bells off. Amber then started to measure me, trying to be calm and professional as she plied the tape measure. Still, her fingers trembled every time she touched me and I could tell that I was having just as strong an effect on her as she was on me.
Given how well the four of them obviously knew each other, I was a bit surprised that they hadn’t taken advantage of my obvious state of sexual arousal and clear willingness to play. I did detect a slight tension between Amber and the men though: not dislike, but a lack of complete ease. I suspected that, had I come on my own or with just Ginny, the play with my breasts would have gone a lot further. I wished it had, but held my peace, letting Amber measure me and enjoying the intimate touch of her fingers.
She did it slowly, logging the measurements neatly into a little red notebook. After a while, I had to lift up my skirt so that she could measure my thighs. Having her hands between my thighs made my head spin with pleasure and I deliberately pulled the skirt up higher, exposing my bum to her, complete with marks from the previous day’s pony-carting.
‘I see you’ve already been driven,’ Amber said. ‘Those don’t look like you’ve been whipped for being naughty.’
‘They took me out yesterday,’ I answered. From what she had said, it was evident that there was an element of ritual in the relationship between the four of them. It was as if, by playing their roles, they could lose the inhibitions that normally make physical intimacy between more than two people difficult, if not impossible. There had been something of the same, the previous day, although in Amber’s presence there seemed to be more need for it. Well, if they could play psychological games, then so could I.
‘Was she good?’ Amber asked the others. I felt a finger touch the sensitive skin of one of the spots where Matthew’s whip had caught me. I had admired my bottom in the mirror that morning and knew that one or two marks had lasted.
‘Excellent,’ Matthew answered, but I could tell it wasn’t the answer Amber had been looking for.
‘A good pony-girl, very cute indeed,’ Michael supplied. ‘As for her behaviour: fair to middling, I suppose.’
‘I was really obedient!’ I protested automatically.
‘Fair to middling,’ Michael repeated. I could see where the conversation was leading — to my bottom getting whacked.
‘Didn’t you say she found out about you by watching you in the park?’ Amber asked.
‘I’ve already been spanked for that,’ I pointed out, deciding to play compliant yet tart. ‘Over Matthew’s knee, with my pants down.’
‘Just a spanking?’ Amber said derisively as she got to her feet.
‘It was jolly hard!’ I protested, dropping my dress and putting my hands protectively over my bottom.
‘I would have caned you,’ Amber continued. ‘Have you ever been caned, Penny?’
‘Oh, yes, let’s cane her!’ Ginny said enthusiastically, rather spoiling the air of cool authority Amber had been trying to build up.
‘No,’ I admitted.
‘Would you like to be?’ Amber asked.
I hesitated. The idea of being punished appealed to me, but the cane looked wicked and I was sure it would be very painful. Physically, I’d always enjoyed the sensation of being spanked. Mentally, it was always best if it was for something, even if my sin was largely imaginary. I didn’t suppose for an instant that any of them actually thought I deserved punishment for trespassing and peeping, but I was still going to get beaten for it and it would hurt just as much. Done properly, I knew the sensation would be bliss. The question was, could I take it?
‘OK, but start me gently,’ I answered, not feeling entirely sure of myself.
‘Is that all right, Matthew?’ Amber asked.
‘Fine,’ Matthew replied. ‘We’ve told her the normal stop words. Shall we go out into the field?’
‘Yes,’ Ginny said, ‘with Penny in harness and tied over a jump!’
‘Let Penny choose her own punishment,’ Amber said and then turned to me. ‘Would you like to be done up in any special way? You can use anything I’ve got.’
I looked around, feeling like a child let loose in a toy shop. There was a wealth of things to choose from, all either designed to keep me in place while I was beaten or to enhance my exp
osure. I was tempted to try absolute restraint, so that I would feel completely helpless. On the other hand I like to kick and wriggle when I’m spanked, and imagined it would be the same with the cane. The nipple bells seemed a good idea and a sort of pole with cuffs on the end that was obviously intended to stop a girl closing her legs. I took both items and passed them to Matthew, who was standing behind me and had taken the cane from its peg. Then I remembered how good it had felt with my hands tied in the small of my back and added a pair of wrist cuffs and a length of rope to my selection.
‘OK, I’m all yours,’ I said, trying to sound brave as I handed the last items over. ‘I’d like to be done in here; and bent over, please. I’m not sure I can handle the manacles.’
I stepped into the middle of the room and bowed my head, shivering at the thrill of what was about to be done to me. They pulled down my skirt to leave me standing naked in a puddle of cloth. Amber produced a thing like a tall padded trestle from under the bench, obviously designed for bending girls over to be punished. The sight of it made my trembling more pronounced and, oddly enough, if I hadn’t half-thought that they expected me to back out, I don’t think I’d have been able to go through with it.
Matthew took me by the wrist and led me gently forward, helping me get comfortable over the whipping stool. My bum stuck right up in the air, feeling rude and vulnerable, the cheeks a bit open so that the air was cool down between them. Nobody said a word as my ankles were pulled apart and cuffed. It left my legs almost at right angles and my feet off the ground so that my whole weight was on the stool. I knew what they could see and found myself blushing, despite my acquiescence to the caning. After all, there were four of them, all fully dressed, while I was naked and upended, with my pussy stuck out for inspection.
Amber kissed me as she clipped the bells onto my nipples, continuing to fondle my breasts as Matthew pulled my hands up into the small of my back and clipped the wrist cuffs on. The rope followed, looped around my wrists and the stool, leaving me utterly helpless — able to kick and wriggle, but in no way to shield my bottom from the cane. I knew they must be able to see how badly I was trembling.