by Penny Birch
‘It was weird, at first. It just doesn’t seem the sort of sex a modern girl is supposed to have. I mean, we’re supposed to go on top, be up front about when we want it, be in control and not let men dominate us… Not that that really applies to you, I suppose…’ She had trailed off, as if she’d said something she shouldn’t have.
I hastened to put her back at ease. ‘Just do as you like and don’t feel guilty about it,’ I told her. ‘Power is not being like other people think you should. After all, what’s the difference between a man telling you that it’s perverted to be a pony-girl and a woman telling you it’s degrading to be a pony-girl?’
‘None, I suppose,’ she replied. ‘I enjoyed it, anyway. I’d like to try driving too, but Matthew won’t do that.’
‘You can drive me,’ I offered automatically. It wasn’t intended as a come-on, just as a friendly offer, but she blushed beetroot red.
‘Penny, can I ask you a question?’ she said. There was a tension in her voice. Combined with the blush, it was an immediate giveaway. I’d been there myself.
‘Go ahead,’ I told her.
‘What’s it like… with… with Amber?’
‘Glorious,’ I replied, deliberately taking a slightly wrong tack. ‘She’s really imaginative and she’s brilliant at making things—’
‘I mean in bed,’ Catherine interrupted.
‘Tender, cuddly, soothing,’ I answered, which was true, even if the most soothing hugs always came after I’d been punished.
‘But doesn’t she whip you and things? I thought that’s what you liked?’
‘Yes, when we’re playing. She’s really loving, in general.’
‘So you like being beaten?’
‘By the right person, on my bum, or my thighs maybe; yes. It doesn’t mean I like being hurt nastily or anything. Just the opposite, in fact; I’m really tender. Doesn’t Matthew spank you?’
‘He likes to, but I never feel quite right about it. I suppose I do like it, but—’
‘I’ve always liked it. Now I feel I need to be spanked, it doesn’t just turn me on, it makes me feel better about everything.’
‘Like feeling better after you’ve been punished for something?’
‘Exactly; I like to be caught and punished. It’s no fun being naughty if you get away with it. Sexually, anyway; in the normal run of things, I’m no different to anyone else. I like to get away with it. But if you don’t feel that way, what do you get out of being spanked?’
‘I… I suppose I’m just a little flirt really. I like to feel that I’m showing off and that everyone’s looking at me and thinking I look sexy but that they think I haven’t chosen to show off. That, and the warm glow you get afterwards.’
‘I agree, I sometimes fantasise about being spanked in a park. It has to be for something really trivial, like walking on the grass, or dropping a bit of paper. The park keeper has pulled my panties down and everyone’s looking…’
‘That sounds good. Do you think about men looking, too?’
‘Yes; it makes it even more humiliating. Tell me one of yours, now.’
If the conversation was having anything like the effect on Catherine that it was having on me, then her pussy would be soaking. She was obviously fascinated by the idea of lesbian sex; fascinated and guilty, just like I had been.
‘My favourite,’ she began, ‘had always been about being caught trespassing. I suppose it’s because I’ve always lived in the country and am always being told not to cross other people’s land.’
‘What happens?’ I prompted her.
We had come to the yard but there was no sign of Ginny and so I turned the tap on and began to strip, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. I decided to go naked, hoping we might end up in a clinch.
‘Well,’ she was saying, not turning away as I pulled down my soggy jeans and knickers in one. ‘I like to imagine I’ve been caught stealing something: eggs, usually. The farmer catches me and pulls me along by the ear into his kitchen, where his two sons are sitting having lunch…’
‘What are they like?’ I asked, wanting the full detail as I began to run the hose over my body.
‘Big, strong lads: say eighteen and twenty. A bit like Matthew when I met him, actually. Their mother’s there too, a really big woman with red cheeks and big heavy arms that are always bare and red-skinned. Anyway, the farmer pulls me over his lap and starts to spank me. I kick and shout at him but he’s so strong, he hardly notices. I’m wearing a big skirt and the folds are getting in the way, so he pulls it up, and that really makes me angry because the sons are watching and they’re laughing at me. They think it’s hilarious and are egging their father on to pull down my panties, but the woman’s completely indifferent and just carries on knitting. Finally the farmer pulls my pants down… I usually come, then…’
She broke off, blushing, but I was determined not to leave such a gorgeous fantasy without more detail.
‘Why then, and what if you don’t?’ I teased.
‘I don’t really know,’ she continued. ‘There’s just something about the exact moment that my bum’s stripped… As if I’ve been spoilt in some way, once they’ve seen my bare bottom… It’s hard to explain.’
‘I understand,’ I agreed.
‘Then, just occasionally,’ she added, blushing again,
‘instead of spanking me himself, the farmer throws me over his wife’s lap. She’s much more matter-of-fact; she immediately hauls up my skirt and pulls my panties straight down, as if my bum being bare in front of her husband and sons is completely unimportant. They’re getting really turned on, but she just keeps on bringing that big strong arm down, harder and harder while she calls me a brat and tells me to stop squalling about a little spanking. In the end, she pulls my panties right off and stuffs them in my mouth to shut me up. That always makes me come.’
The idea certainly made me want to come. My nipples were rock hard, and it wasn’t just from the cold water. She was obviously very turned on, too, and I realised that it was now or never.
‘Would you like me to do that for you, Catherine?’ I asked breathlessly.
‘Just call me Katie,’ was all she said, but the answer was obvious from the way her lip trembled, so I stopped her mouth with a kiss before she could have second thoughts. There was an instant’s hesitation and then she responded, opening her mouth and then letting her tongue touch mine.
She must have been fantasising about sex with another woman for years because, the instant she let herself go, she was like a wild beast. One hand went around my back, snaking down to the cleft of my bottom, the other to a breast which she fondled with a clumsy urgency. I stroked the nape of her neck to slow and soothe her, but I might as well not have bothered. One moment her kisses were hot and passionate against my mouth, the next on my neck. Then she was nuzzling and kissing my breasts, cupping one to put the nipple to her mouth as her other hand curled around one cheek of my bottom. The other hand joined it, kneading my cheeks as her kisses travelled down my belly.
I sighed as her mouth touched my pussy, the tongue burrowing in to search out my clit and lap as her hands explored my bottom. I felt she wanted to eat me, the way she was licking and mouthing my vulva. Her fingers kept stroking between my cheeks, never quite daring to touch the centre, an act that would have destroyed her last vestige of reserve.
I had wanted to have her slowly, warming her with a spanking conducted with all the skill Amber had taught me. Then she could have licked me, even as I licked her. As it was, I was going to come at any moment, just from the manic way she was slurping at my clitoris.
‘Slower, Katie,’ I gasped. ‘I want you, too.’
She sat back, resting on her arms, open-mouthed and flustered. Her skirt had ridden up so that the front of her panties showed: wet white cotton, plastered against her pussy. I sank into a crouch in front of her, reaching out for the buttons of her blouse. She put her head back and closed her eyes as the first button popped open, her breathing com
ing fast as each one opened and exposed a bit more of the creamy white flesh of her breasts. Her skin was very pale, also smooth and soft. The last button popped open and I pulled her blouse apart, exposing her bra.
Her breasts were the size of big oranges and looked lovely, nestled in white lace with the pale nipples showing through. I stroked each, making her shiver and swallow, then reached behind her to unclip her bra and pull it up. I caught them as they fell free, heavy, yielding globes of flesh crowned by stiff nipples. I wanted to suck them and leant forward to take a nipple in my mouth, holding the breast up and nipping the hard bud of rosy pink flesh between my lips.
I continued to nibble, letting my other hand sneak between her legs. Her panty crotch was wet and bulging with soft pussy flesh, a fold of cotton caught between her lips. I stroked the front, then slid my hand down them and cupped her pussy, my middle finger working in between the lips. She groaned as I found her clit, arching her back to push herself on to me.
At that instant, she was completely mine, utterly abandoned to my touch and moaning softly as I teased her to ecstasy. It must have been all the time I’d spent at Amber’s feet, because that was where I wanted her: kneeling with her head between my ankles and her bottom hot and smarting.
She moved without resistance as I rolled her over on to the hard cobbles of the yard and straddled her back. She gave a low moan as I started to pull her skirt up and realised that she was going to get the spanking she’d been angling for. Her bottom was lovely, a plump peach wrapped in white cotton, the cheeks tight in anticipation of her punishment. I put my thumbs under the waistband of her panties and eased them down ever so slowly. She didn’t make a sound, but said thank you in the softest, meekest voice imaginable when they were around her thighs.
I waited a moment, admiring the slight trembling of her naked bottom, then planted a firm smack full across her cheeks. She squeaked and gave a little kick, for all the world like I would have done in her place. There was something incredibly sweet about that. When I spanked Amber, she often laughed and I always felt I wasn’t making much impression on her bottom. Catherine was just like me, girly and pathetic: squealing like a pig at the first slap.
She certainly squealed when I started to spank her in earnest, wriggling and kicking underneath me so that it was all I could do to stay on. I managed, though, and her bum was soon a cheerful pink, while her wriggles kept giving me flashes of the ginger fur between her legs, sometimes even her bottom-hole and pussy. Seeing the white panties twist and stretch as she thrashed reminded me of a particularly humiliating detail of her fantasy. I stopped spanking and she immediately went limp, breathing heavily.
‘Thank you, Penny, thank you,’ she gasped. ‘That was so nice; oh, my bum’s so warm.’
‘Who says I’ve finished?’ I asked, taking a good grip on her panties and pulling them down her thighs and off her legs. ‘It’s not just fantasy, Katie, you are a squalling brat. Now open your mouth.’
‘Please, yes,’ she said, the instant before I stuffed her mouth with her own panties.
I took hold of her ankles and set to work on her bum again, her squeals were now muffled by her mouthful of knickers. Her bum was getting very red indeed and my hand was starting to smart, soft and well-padded though her bottom was. What I needed was a cane or a strap to take her right to the peak of submissive ecstasy. The best I could do was one of her shoes: flat leather-soled ones that promised well as spanking implements. My use of her shoe redoubled her kicks and struggles, each smack making her buttocks bounce and then part as she bucked.
At last something in the tone of her squeaks made me decide she’d had enough and reminded me that I should have given her a stop word. I stopped, laying the shoe across the reddened skin of her bottom and admiring the sight with immense satisfaction. This was how Amber must have felt when she had put me into the back of her horsebox for the first time, a trussed and docile pony-girl ready for her pleasure.
The question was, what to do with Katie next? It was like having a big box of chocolates and knowing you couldn’t eat them all at once. I put the shoe aside and began to stroke her bottom, then leant forward and kissed one hot cheek. I could smell the scent of her sex, rich and inviting, overpoweringly feminine. It was too much to resist and I abandoned my plans of slowly teasing her to orgasm in favour of burying my face between her thighs and licking her until she came. Then it would be my turn and I’d sit on her face and make her kiss my bottom-hole, which she’d been too embarrassed to touch. I’d masturbate while she licked it and then come right in her face.
‘Time for you to come, Katie,’ I told her. ‘Stick your bum up and I’ll give you a good lick.’
She obeyed, raising her bottom and opening her thighs as I started to dismount.
Inevitably, Ginny had to turn up at that moment. I heard a noise and looked up to see her standing in the entrance to the yard, gaping at us with an expression of disbelief. ‘Penny! What are you doing?’ she exclaimed.
‘Spanking Katie,’ I answered cheerfully. There didn’t seem much else to say.
On hearing Ginny’s voice, Catherine tried to get up, nearly throwing me off my seat on her back.
‘Don’t, don’t!’ I pleaded. ‘Relax; Ginny’s no different. Don’t you remember seeing her at the boathouse?’
She relaxed again and I stroked one red bum cheek thoughtfully, then gave her a hard smack full across her bottom.
‘Anyway,’ I continued, ‘you must have known she might catch us at it. You did, didn’t you, you little tart?’
Catherine squirmed beneath me in an agony of pleasure and shame. Ginny was walking towards us, her big breasts bare under a flimsy T-shirt, tight blue bikini pants peeping out from beneath the hem.
‘I’m afraid there’s no spanking left to do,’ I told Ginny, indicating Catherine’s upturned bottom.
‘Yes there is,’ Ginny replied in a surprisingly firm voice. ‘Penny Birch, for three years I’ve fancied Catherine, but I’ve never dared do more than kiss her goodnight. When she caught us we talked nearly all night and I gave her a cuddle, but that was all. Now you meet her and in five minutes you’re perched on her back, starkers and about to tongue her.’
I shrugged and smiled, after all, it wasn’t my fault if she had never had the courage to make a pass.
‘I want both of you, now, or I’ll be really hurt,’ she continued. I could tell she was genuinely hurt and immediately felt sorry for her, determining to make it up.
I nodded to Ginny and climbed off Catherine, who rolled over and took her panties out of her mouth. She was wide-eyed and excited but also very uncertain and covered her breasts shyly.
‘Just follow me,’ I whispered.
‘Kneel and put your hands on your heads,’ Ginny ordered. ‘Backs straight, knees apart and look at the ground.’
I complied, but slowly so that I could watch Catherine. The position left her tits sticking out under the rolled-up bra and most of her thighs showing where her skirt was rucked up. Her hands were folded on top of her head, her panties lying discarded between her open knees. It made a very pretty picture, helping me to make the mental switch from dominance to submission because she looked so sweet yet I myself was stark naked.
‘First,’ Ginny said slowly and firmly, ‘I’m going to tell Amber.’
‘Yes, miss,’ I replied, immediately getting the thrill of knowledge of coming punishment. Amber would certainly cane me for seducing another woman, and probably in some new and humiliating fashion. Catherine sniggered, either out of genuine delight at my discomfort or because she was learning to play the game.
‘I don’t know what you’re laughing at,’ Ginny told her. ‘You’re as bad as she is. Do you know what Amber’s favourite punishment for little trollops is?’
‘No, miss,’ Catherine replied, sounding genuinely contrite.
‘You’ll be caned,’ Ginny told her with relish. ‘First she’ll have you play some humiliating game, to decide how many strokes you get. Then sh
e’ll put six or twelve cane strokes across your fat white bottom. Then you’ll say sorry and kiss her bottom-hole to show you mean it. I suspect you’d enjoy that?’
Catherine wasn’t stupid. She immediately caught the implication of Ginny’s question. If she said no, then she’d never be asked to do it, but if she said yes…
She couldn’t bring herself to speak, but she did nod, blushing furiously as she admitted that she’d like to do it.
‘And the cane, too, I suppose?’ Ginny demanded.
‘Yes, miss,’ Catherine answered, clearly and openly this time, although I doubted she knew what being caned felt like.
‘Slut,’ Ginny answered. ‘There’ll be a spanking coming up from Matthew, too, I dare say, then his cock in your mouth.’
‘Yes, miss,’ Catherine repeated.
‘First,’ Ginny continued, ‘you can both apologise to me for having sex in my stable yard. Penny, first.’
She had taken a pace to stand directly in front of me. I mumbled an apology and then bent forward to kiss her feet, immediately finding my head trapped between her ankles, exactly as I had planned to do to Catherine. Of course, that left my bottom stuck in the air, a humiliating position that made Catherine snigger again.
‘Funny, is it?’ Ginny demanded. ‘Kiss her pussy, now.’
I saw Catherine move behind me and then felt the soft brush of her lips on my vagina, directly over the hole. It was so light as to be frustrating, a hint of what her tongue could achieve in that same place. I wondered if Ginny would order her to bring me off in that position.
‘Now her bottom,’ Ginny ordered.
I felt a firm, wet kiss on one bottom cheek, then the other.
‘Is that all, Katie?’ Ginny queried, still giving Catherine a chance to back out.
Catherine hesitated, then her lips touched my anus. The kiss tickled and sent a thrill right through me so that I couldn’t resist a sigh.
‘Sluts, the pair of you,’ Ginny remarked. ‘Good, right, off with your clothes, Katie.’
She kept my head clamped between her ankles while Catherine undressed, only releasing me when she, too, was naked. I knelt back, adopting the position I’d been told to before, with my knees apart and my breasts thrust out so that everything was on offer. Catherine was in the same position, Ginny standing over her two playthings with her hands on her hips and a knowing smile on her face.