by Penny Birch
‘Here?’ I asked. ‘Isn’t it a bit public?’
‘Not really,’ she answered indifferently. ‘Anyway, do as you’re told or they’ll see a pink bottom as well as a bare one.’
I began to undress, trusting her, yet a bit uncertain about the location. The track led down into a wood, was deep in mud and well-rutted with tractor marks, obviously in constant use. It was one thing to give strangers teasing flashes of panties or to risk been seen making love. Strolling down a country lane without a stitch on was quite another.
‘What are we going to do?’ I asked.
‘We’re going to go and play in the woods,’ she answered. ‘And don’t worry about being seen. This is forestry land and they won’t be working on a Saturday.’
That reassured me, although I was still feeling nervous as I slid my panties off and threw them into the back with my other clothes.
‘Put this on,’ Amber ordered, taking a piece of black leather from her pocket and passing it over. It was my collar and had a lead of braided black leather attached to it. I slipped it around my neck, already beginning to tremble at the thought of being led by Amber.
A moment before, I’d been completely relaxed, expecting a walk in the woods and a pub lunch. Now I was sitting naked in the front seat of Amber’s car with a collar and lead on.
‘Now this,’ Amber said and I saw that her hand was back in her pocket.
I obeyed, my trembling increasing as she took a black silk scarf from her pocket and put it on me, like a blindfold.
‘Stay very still,’ I heard her voice and a moment later something cold and wet touched the bridge of my nose. It felt like a lip-gloss brush, but she applied the liquid in a roughly triangular shape around my nose instead of my lips and pressed something to my face. She was sticking something over my nose: something that obviously had holes in it, because it was stuck all the way round, but I could still breathe through my nose.
‘Turn around and stick your bum up,’ she said. Well, I knew what happened when I did that. Either it got smacked or something was put up my pussy or bum: frequently both.
I turned over to kneel on the seat and present Amber with my bottom, expecting either a smack or a caress. Instead, I felt the same cold, wet feeling in the small of my back, again painting a triangular shape but a larger one. Again, something was pressed to my skin and held until it stuck. This time I could guess what it was. As an alternative to her plug-in tail, Amber sometimes made one that stuck onto the pony’s back, giving the same look but not half as much fun. That was presumably what I’d had put on me, only I should have been able to feel the tail tickling my bottom. Instead, there was just a slight sensation of extra weight.
‘Stay still,’ Amber ordered and I heard her door slam. My own opened a moment later and she helped me out of the car. She didn’t let me get up, but led me out on to the grass on my knees. A tug at my lead pulled me forward and I began to crawl, acutely aware that I was stark naked by the side of a public track and on a lead. I couldn’t see, but I was listening for the sound of an approaching car or voices.
Amber was doing something in the car, leaving me to the humiliation and uncertainty of my position. There was a thump as she shut the boot, then another noise and she was undoing the knot that held my blindfold in place.
In front of me was a mirror, with my face and body reflected in it. I turned to look, to find that in place of a nose I had a snout; a little pink snout, upturned and with the nostrils at the end. I had a side view of my body, including the curve of my bottom, above it a curly pink tail stuck out at a perky angle. When Amber had stuck a nose and tail on me I’d thought she might be making me into a puppy-girl, a fantasy I’d heard of but which we hadn’t tried. I wasn’t a puppy; I was a pig.
It’s hard to imagine a more humiliating image. Naked and permanently crawling, so that my rear view was just as rude as it could possibly be. For a girl to be naked and crawling is sexy; to be naked and crawling in a collar and lead is sexy and submissive; to be naked, crawling and collared with a snout and tail is sexy, submissive and just unbelievably wanton. It was everything a woman is taught not to be: immodest, undignified, naked in public, an available slut, a sexual plaything. Add to that the popular image of a pig — dirty, ill-mannered, fecund — and you had Amber’s new creation, the piggy-girl.
That was what she called me as she stood over me with a long, whippy hazel switch in her hand. It should have been unendurably humiliating.
It was me to the core. Amber really understood me and had made the best of all the things that turned me on the most. Exhibitionism, because I was naked and in a position that left my pussy and bottom-hole showing all the time. Submission, because I was on her lead and naked at her feet. Punishment, because I knew full well that her hazel switch was there to decorate my bottom with some pretty red stripes. Sexual irresponsibility, because I was now a pig and could be expected to behave no better. It was humiliating, yes; deliciously, exquisitely humiliating.
Besides, as I looked at myself in the mirror, one thing was certain. I made a really cute piggy-girl. I’m small, with a round bum and little tits. As pony-girls, Ginny and Vicky looked much better than me, taller, more elegant and with lovely breasts to show off. I really came into my own as a piggy-girl: neater and more loveable.
I rubbed my face against Amber’s trousers to show my appreciation, then turned my bum to the mirror and looked back over my shoulder. As I knew it would, my pussy pouted out from between my thighs like a little ripe fig, a wet, pink centre to a nest of black fur. My bottom-hole showed, too, a tiny dark dimple in puckered pink flesh, again with a good deal of hair around it. My bum cheeks were pink and fresh and parted, my tail curled above them, wobbling slightly as I moved.
It’s vain, I know, but at that instant I wished I could fuck myself. My rear view was just pure sex. It made me want to stick my bum up in the air and offer myself publicly to anyone who fancied filling my little piggy rear with cock, a dildo, their fingers — anything they wanted, really, just as long as I got filled, and preferably in my pussy and bum-hole at the same time.
Of course I knew that an average member of the public wouldn’t have the guts to just take me like that, even if it were offered, especially with Amber there too. Reality was that anyone who saw us would probably ring the police. I didn’t think Amber would take that sort of risk and so far we hadn’t so much as seen a car, so I began to feel more secure.
I rubbed up against Amber’s leg again, wondering what she had planned. She had been admiring her handiwork and looking pretty pleased with herself. When I put my cheek against her leg she patted my head and reached into her pocket to offer me a chocolate. I nuzzled it off her hand: a rum truffle, which seemed appropriate and was better than being fed on acorns.
‘Right, Pinky, we’re going for a walk,’ she told me, tugging gently on my lead.
There was immense satisfaction in her voice. Her greatest pride was always in sexual creativity, and this was her own creation and so a fantasy all our own. For now, anyway: I knew my lover and knew that she’d be far too pleased with herself not to show me off to like-minded friends. I knew Ginny would be delighted, Vicky too; Anderson would probably want to fill my fantasy of being taken from behind as a piggy-girl. The name was sweet, too, friendly and familiar, a good name for a pet pig.
Amber walked onto the track, my hands and legs sinking into the cool, squishy mud as I followed. The feeling made me want to wallow in the muck until my body was plastered with it. I made to roll over but got a smack across my haunches with the switch for my trouble. I still got a good coating as I crawled down the track, the mud often coming up to my thighs and once deep enough to smear my dangling breasts. I wanted to sit in it, but Amber wouldn’t let me and, by the time we reached the bottom of the track, my bum had four red lines across it.
A little stream ran across the path, surrounded by oaks instead of the ranks of poplars that made up most of the wood. I was led onto a narrower path, floor
ed with damp leaf mould instead of rutted mud. Amber strolled along, whistling and swinging her switch, only occasionally turning to look down at her piggy-girl.
I was sure that there would be more to it than just being walked and then having sex when we found a suitably lonely place. I was right. After a couple of hundred yards, the path opened out on to a little bowl-shaped depression where the wood ended. The stream ran through the middle, passing underneath a dilapidated barbed wire fence and a thick holly. Beyond the fence was a semi-circular area of thick lush grass. In the centre the stream spread out into a wide ford, heavily pocked with cow hoof marks. The resulting mud pool was about ten yards across and full of deep, oozing mud; rich brown and glutinous.
I knew I was going in it, the moment I saw it. Amber helped me under the fence, let me off the lead and went to sit on the trunk of a fallen tree. She had chosen well. The holly shielded us from the interior of the wood while the depression made us invisible from the field. Her head was above the level of the lip of the bowl and she could see the field clearly. Nobody could catch us unawares.
‘In you go,’ she said merrily as she settled herself on the oak trunk.
I put an arm out and it sank to the wrist in mud. The other went in halfway to my elbow. Another pace and I was in up to both elbows, with my titties only an inch from the surface. With my knees still on the grass, this left my bottom stuck up with the tail pointing up in the air. Amber laughed at the exhibition I was making of myself and I turned and stuck out my tongue at her.
‘Get in it, Pinky,’ she ordered, sounding thoroughly amused by the thought of me plastered in filth.
I took another pace, my knees now sinking in and my breasts brushing the surface, the wet muck cold against my nipples. I shivered at the feeling, hunching my legs forward into the deeper mud. My knees landed on either side of a ridge of firmer soil, making them slide apart and my thighs open to Amber. She laughed again at the sight of my spread pussy, her amusement at my plight adding to my humiliation.
The mud felt good and was obviously the perfect place for a piggy-girl to wallow. I went in further, rubbing my titties in the mud and then sitting up to put my bottom in it. It squelched up between my cheeks, wet and filthy against my nice clean pussy and bum-hole. Lifting my bottom, I stuck it out to show her the mess and looked back over my shoulder. I was in ecstasy, dirty and rude in front of my Amber, my body plastered with mud, my tits and bum filthy with it, my snout and tail marking me for what I was.
I rolled over and spread my legs, squirming in the muck and presenting Amber with my open legs. Stretching out, I rolled full length, covering my belly and coating my pussy hair. It was in my hair and up between my bum cheeks, sticking to my breasts so that they felt heavy and sensitive, coating every inch of my skin except my face.
‘Pose for me,’ I heard Amber say, and turned to see what she was up to.
She was undoing her trouser button and looking out across the field. I watched as she slid the corduroys down her legs to her ankles. She had on white panties with a flowery design and, as she opened her legs, I could see the plump swell of her pussy inside them. It looked very inviting and I wanted to crawl out and lick her, but she had other ideas.
‘Crawl, show me your tail,’ she said, her voice sounding hoarse as she slid her hand down the front of her panties.
I presented her with my bottom, lifting it and wiggling to make my bum cheeks and tail wobble.
‘Perfect, just stay like that,’ she breathed.
I glanced back, smiling at the sight of Amber with her eyes riveted on my bottom. She was holding out the front of her panties with one hand and masturbating with the other. I didn’t know why she hadn’t just taken them down, but it looked really sweet, rude yet innocent. It was as if she were too turned on not to play with herself, but too shy to pull her panties down while she did it.
I wiggled again and turned my upper body a little so that she could see my dangling, mud-smeared titties. She sighed and began to rub harder, then suddenly stopped to wrench her jumper up and pull her tits out of her bra, cupping them and squeezing the nipples before returning her attention to her pussy.
The bra and jumper were in a tangle of material above her breasts, which looked big and creamy and inviting. The sight of her masturbating was really getting to me. With her tits out and her trousers down, while her fingers were inside her pants, she looked the perfect image of an innocent country girl getting carried away. I imagined that it was completely normal to have a piggy-girl as a pet, and that what was improper was not me crawling nude in the mud, but her getting carried away and masturbating over the sight.
It was a lovely fantasy and I couldn’t resist slipping a hand back between my legs and opening my muck-smeared pussy lips for her.
‘You dirty little pig,’ Amber gasped out and then began to come.
Her thighs locked around her hand and then spread again. She tore the front of her panties down, exposing the pink inside of her pussy. She screamed, as she always did, her breasts bouncing as her body spasmed with pleasure. Three times she called my names, twice ‘Pinky’ and then ‘Penny’, as she slipped forward from the log to sit panting in the grass.
I was face down, with my tits in the mud and my hands between my legs, one to spread my pussy lips, the other to rub my clit. I felt safe because she could see the field, so I wasn’t hurrying; instead I waited for her to get her breath back so that she could come and beat me with the hazel switch while I brought myself off. There was also the question of how a piggy-girl should signal to her mistress that she wants her bum whipped. I turned to try and direct Amber’s attention to the discarded switch with my eyes, only to find Amber looking not at me, but at the wood.
‘Penny, we’re being watched,’ she said urgently.
I looked up at the wood as a great surge of embarrassment and shame went through me. Amber already had her breasts covered and was struggling with her trousers, but there was nothing I could do about my own nudity. Except, that is, sink down into the mud. This was hardly ideal and my piggy-girl snout and tail still showed, but it was better than crawling, not to mention masturbating.
At first, I couldn’t see anyone in the wood, but then I caught a movement and realised that a man in a tweed suit was standing very still among some bushes, a little way up the slope. He didn’t move and nor did we. Instead, we both looked at each other and waited for someone to do something.
I was a bit surprised he hadn’t run away. Peeping Toms generally feel guilty, even if they come across something accidentally, like a man who’d seen my cousin Kate and me bathing naked in an old quarry. He’d had every right to be there, but he’d turned scarlet and beaten a hasty retreat. This man was made of sterner stuff, or possibly the blatant eroticism of what Amber and I were doing made him bolder.
He climbed over the fence and began to make his way slowly towards us. I could only gape in embarrassment and disbelief. I wasn’t scared; he was none too young and portly as well. If we’d run for it we’d have been at the car before he’d got to the stream. Besides, I had Amber — not that she was being much help. Instead, she was adjusting her bra straps and waiting for his approach. I wondered what he thought he was doing. Was he going to tell us off? Was he going to ask to join in?
I am a slut sometimes, I admit it. Normally, if some fat fifty-year-old in tweeds came up to me and asked to fuck me, he’d get a knee in the balls. Then, I’m not normally a naked piggy-girl in a mud wallow, who’s just watched her mistress come. Excuses aside, I knew that if the man had the guts to make a rude suggestion, he’d get what he wanted.
‘Just what do you two think you’re doing?’ he demanded as he reached the lip of the depression opposite where Amber was standing. His voice was strong and authoritative, for all the world like an old-fashioned schoolmaster telling off a couple of girls caught smoking. My immediate reaction was to start stammering an apology, but not Amber.
‘Do you realise whose land this is?’ she asked, answerin
g his question with a question.
‘Yes, mine,’ he responded as firmly as ever.
That rather shut her up. I suppose she’d assumed he was a walker because he’d come out of the wood, which belonged to the Forestry Commission. Evidently, he wasn’t.
‘Oh… Well, in that case we’d better leave,’ she managed. ‘Come on, Penny.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ he remonstrated. ‘I saw what you were doing, you pair of perverts. Why, I’ve a good mind to take a stick to your backsides.’
‘You’re not going to do that.’ Amber answered with a dangerous edge to her voice.
He started to move around the lip of the depression. Amber stood her ground, which I thought was foolish. He must have weighed twenty stone and was heavily built. If he’d managed to get her across his knee, it would have been trousers and panties down and a smacked bottom for her, whether she liked it or not. I’m sorry to say that the thought turned me on, mainly because I knew she’d secretly enjoy it.
‘You’re not going to spank me,’ she repeated with absolute confidence. ‘But if it turns you on to punish girls, you can whip my pig. That’s what you’d like, isn’t it? You dirty old bastard.’
That stopped him. He turned to look at me and I saw that what I’d thought was anger was pure lust. He hadn’t wanted to punish us at all, he’d just wanted to have us squealing while our bums turned red, then to jack off over what he’d done. As it was, he was clearly having trouble believing Amber’s offer to be genuine. I wasn’t surprised, but Amber knew me well enough to know that in the state I was in, I’d be more than willing to take a whipping in her place.
‘You can fuck her, too,’ Amber added.
That was the end of any pretence. He’d been watching us, so he knew we were far from innocent. What he hadn’t known was whether we’d be willing to do it with him. Now he did.
‘She’s rather dirty,’ he said, looking at me doubtfully.
‘Couldn’t I fuck you, instead?’
‘No,’ Amber answered, which was one hell of an understatement. ‘Pinky, go in the stream and smarten yourself up. The man wants your pussy nice and fresh and clean for his cock.’