Butter Wouldn't Melt

by Penny Birch

  ‘I have a problem, AJ. Morris has persuaded my little sister to come to his party on Saturday. I don’t think she’ll stay very long, once she sees the sort of man who’ll be there, but I couldn’t let her go alone. So I’m going. Sorry.’

  I expected an explosion of anger, and probably to be dragged into the loos by my hair, where I’d have my head held down in the lavatory bowl, pissed on and flushed. To my surprise, she simply pursed her lips in annoyance, then nodded.

  ‘Typical fucking Morris,’ she said. ‘OK, you go, and stick around long enough to find out who fucked me over. Get Big Mel pissed or something.’

  ‘She’ll probably . . .’

  ‘I know what she’ll do. Take it. You’re tough enough to handle her.’

  I wasn’t at all sure about that, but I nodded in turn, and kissed her again.

  ‘Thanks, AJ.’

  ‘That’s cool. Just don’t get fucked, that’s all.’

  ‘I won’t. I promise.’

  I meant it, despite having come within a moment of taking Clive’s cock inside me just hours before. Morris’s guests were a very different matter, especially as they were paying. I might enjoy thinking of myself as a tart, but I was quite definitely not losing my virginity as a prostitute. A free ticket to play with Melody was another matter, as she was both frightening and attractive, the perfect combination for me in a female partner.

  ‘So what did you get up to with Miss Muffet?’ AJ asked as Gina pushed a drink in front of me.

  ‘She used a pussy pump on me,’ I admitted, ‘and spanked me while I was all swollen up.’

  ‘Sounds fun,’ Gina said. ‘I’ve seen those, but I’ve never tried it.’

  ‘It feels weird,’ I told her, ‘but nice, and it looks . . . it looks obscene, but so sexy, like my whole body is centred on my pussy.’

  ‘I’d better invest in one,’ AJ put in.

  ‘Yes, please,’ I urged. ‘I’d like that.’

  She took hold of the front of my blouse and pulled me close, kissing me hard on the lips, so that I was flushed and trembling when she let go. Gina gave a knowing grin and moved away to serve another customer, only to turn back as AJ slipped a hand into my blouse.

  ‘If you’re going to do that, AJ, please take her in the back.’

  ‘Sure,’ AJ answered, and she had taken my wrist.

  I was in ecstasy even as she led me around the bar to the back room. Everybody was watching, about thirty girls, and every one of them knew I was about to be spanked and put on my knees. Several of them crowded after us, taking their places around the room as AJ calmly placed a chair at the very centre and sat down. I was taken over her lap, my skirt lifted in a casual, matter-of-fact fashion and my knickers pulled down with even less fuss. She had me bare, and it didn’t matter, because I was hers to do with as she pleased.

  What happened was entirely up to her, but this evening she was feeling kind. Hooking one leather-clad leg around my calf, she spread me open, stretching my knickers taut between my legs and leaving my bare pussy pressed to her thigh. She began to spank, hard from the very first, so that I immediately lost control to the pain, kicking and bucking across her knee to show off my bumhole and rub myself on her leg.

  She held me down, ignoring my yelps and pleas for mercy, because she knew what was best for me. Soon my bottom had begun to warm and the pain faded to be replaced by pure, sexual heat. My squirming became slower and more rhythmic, and with my modesty already gone I was soon rubbing my pussy on her leg with ever greater urgency as the girls clapped and cheered to see me so well punished and so excited.

  I came in no time, and was pushed down to the floor, to squat panting and dishevelled as AJ stood and calmly pushed her leathers down from her hips. My vision was hazy with tears and the aftermath of my ecstasy as I crawled close, first to be made to lick up my own juices from the leather of her trousers, then put to her cunt. I was licking immediately, and if I was a novice when it came to cock-sucking I was a practised little tart when I had a mouth full of pussy.

  She used me well, showing off to the girls by making me lick her anal star and stick the tip of my tongue in up her bumhole in full view. I did it more than willingly, revelling in my own humiliation and the taste of her bottom, willing to accept whatever she chose to do, no matter how dirty. A lick and a kiss was enough, and I had quickly been put back on her sex, where I was held firmly in place by my hair until she’d taken her orgasm in my face.

  I made the best of Tuesday, concentrating on work for once after a night of good sex with AJ. The summation of the fraud trial was extremely useful, especially with Mr Montague to point out the important or interesting features as we walked back down Fleet Street together. I’d expected him to call a cab, which everybody at Montague, Montague, Todmorden and Montague seemed to do as a matter of course, but it turned out he wanted a bit of privacy.

  ‘I’m very much looking forward to Morris’s party this Saturday,’ he said as we reached the quieter streets near St Pauls. ‘It will be your first, I believe?’

  ‘Yes,’ I admitted.

  ‘Morris, as you may know, is famous for his amusing little games, and while I am not acquainted with the details of the one he is planning this weekend, I do know it is called Ladies’ Choice, and that the title reflects the essence of play. Would it be presumptuous of me to hope that you might consider me for your own selection?’

  ‘Not at all,’ I told him, which was perfectly true given the other men I knew would be there, and then had second thoughts, ‘although I hope you won’t be offended if I . . . if I choose another woman first, you know, just to warm me up.’

  ‘To the contrary,’ he replied, ‘I can imagine no more satisfying spectacle.’

  He meant watching me spanked by another woman, and I felt my tummy go tight at the thought. If I was supposed to play up to Melody, and chose her, it seemed likely she would start by spanking me in front of the everybody, men included. What happened after that was up to me, but I knew I’d have been lying to myself if I tried to pretend I might not end up finally getting a spanking from a man. Of all the people I knew would be there, Mr Montague was by far the best one to do it, stern and yet gentlemanly and fair, without any of the filthy habits which characterised the others, or at least, not to the best of my knowledge.

  ‘There is also the matter of Maggie’s punishment,’ he went on as soon as a group of tourists had passed, ‘which I imagine you will enjoy?’

  ‘Very much,’ I replied, earnestly.

  ‘She can be something of a martinet,’ he chuckled, ‘and you won’t be the only one to enjoy her downfall, I can assure you. Lucius has been waiting his chance for quite a while, while there is nothing Morris and his guests enjoy more than to see a dominant woman receive a sound spanking. Seeing her obliged to make her choice will also be rewarding.’

  ‘Isn’t she likely to choose you?’

  ‘Oh good heavens no, I think she’d rather have it done by Morris himself! Normally, I expect she would choose another woman, but every girl there will be out for revenge. She can be very cruel, and Melody in particular would dearly love to make her suffer in turn.’

  ‘So would I,’ I told him, remembering the humiliation of being made to feel I should still be in nappies and the sensation of the stamp handle up my bottom.

  ‘While the men,’ he continued, ‘will know how to deal with her anyway, and may even find themselves offered some interesting encouragement by girls out for revenge. There is always your little sister, of course. Yes, she will choose Jemima in the hope of a weak and inexpert spanking.’

  I was going to ask how he knew Jemima would be coming, but it would have been a stupid question. Morris could easily have taken some sneaky photos of her on his mobile while we were swimming, so half the perverts in London probably had pictures of her in her bikini and an offer of the chance to spank her if they came to the party.

  ‘I doubt Jemima will be there very long,’ I told him.

  ‘No?’ he q
ueried.

  ‘No,’ I said firmly.

  On Wednesday I was going to be back in the basement, and I knew it was my last chance to win the bet if I wanted to be able to present Melody with a cheque. Even if everything went to plan it was bound to take Clive a while to extract the money from Mark, and ideally I wanted the funds awaiting clearance in my own account by the Friday afternoon.

  Inevitably I was nervous, but it’s peculiar what routine can make one accept as normal, because it seemed perfectly natural to be taking my knickers down the moment Mr Prufrock had locked the door.

  ‘That’s my popsy,’ he said happily, his eyes glued to me as always, ‘off they come now and let’s have that little bottom bare.’

  First, I needed to get him sufficiently flustered to take off his jacket, so I threw my discarded knickers at him. I’d chosen the most girlish pair I could find, white with pink checks and a bow at the front. They landed on his thigh, just inches from his crotch, and he gave an appreciative gurgle as he used them to squeeze his cock through his trousers.

  I finished my little striptease, removing my skirt and this time my jacket as well, to leave me completely exposed at the front and with just the tail of my blouse to cover my bottom behind.

  ‘It’s very hot today,’ I remarked. ‘I think I’ll go like this, if you don’t mind?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said, but failed to remove his own jacket. ‘In fact it’s probably just as well, as you missed yesterday and you’ll need to catch up.’

  What he meant was that he wanted to squeeze an extra day’s humiliation and display out of me, but that was all to the good. I went back to what I’d been doing on Monday, which involved a lot of lifting bundles of files, so I was soon putting on as rude a show of pussy and bumhole as he could possibly have wanted. He kept rubbing his crotch with my panties too, but still he wouldn’t take off his jacket.

  I was getting turned on, but he seemed unusually calm, spending nearly an hour just watching me work before he called me over to give him his show. Our plan was already running late, but there was nothing for it but to comply.

  ‘A little running on the spot today, I think,’ he said. ‘Turn around.’

  I hesitated only a moment before accepting the new humiliation, turning my back to him as I began to jog up and down, only for him to give a grunt of discontent.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘you’re too firm for that. Do some jumps instead.’

  Again I obeyed, putting my legs together and jumping on the spot to make my bottom meat wobble.

  ‘Faster,’ he urged, ‘let’s see those little cheeks jiggle, shall we?’

  He gave a dirty little snigger as I obeyed, and after watching for a while he spoke again.

  ‘Take off your blouse. I want to see those titties jump.’

  It was the first time he’d had me strip naked, making me feel more vulnerable than ever as I peeled off with trembling fingers. His eyes never once left my body, and as soon as I was down to my stockings and shoes I began to jump again, now facing him with my breasts bouncing on my chest.

  ‘Excellent!’ he said after a moment. ‘In fact, I think I’ll have you in the nude today. Come along.’

  I was grimacing as I took off my shoes and stockings to leave myself completely naked. Things were not going to plan at all.

  ‘Try touching your toes,’ he suggested, ‘with your back to me, of course.’

  It hardly needed saying. I turned around once more and bent at the waist to touch my fingertips to my toes, showing off every detail of my rear view as I did it. He gave a chuckle of appreciation and settled back as I began to repeat the exercise.

  ‘Very sweet,’ he said after what seemed like forever. ‘Do you know, Pippa, you even have a pretty bottom hole, and a very pretty fanny. Now then, a few handstands and it’s time for your little treat.’

  ‘Handstands?’ I queried.

  ‘I suppose you should be in a skirt with no knickers underneath, for best effect,’ he replied, ‘but I’m sure you’ll look just as pretty doing it in the nude.’

  I made a face, and with considerable difficulty managed to pull off a handstand in the gap between the stacks, showing my open pussy as I did it. He already had me sweaty and covered in dust, but I was made to do it five more times before he finally held his hand up in satisfaction.

  ‘Good girl,’ he said, ‘and you’re quite right, it is a trifle close.’

  Finally he was going to take his jacket off, only I was stark naked and running with sweat, in no condition to go and get a key cut, while once he’d masturbated me our chance would be lost for the day. There was nothing for it but to find an excuse to get dressed again, text Clive, and pray Mr Prufrock didn’t put his jacket back on. The excuse at least was easy.

  ‘I bet you’d like to continue your cock-sucking lesson, wouldn’t you?’ he was saying as he put his jacket on the peg.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but I really need to pee first.’

  ‘That needn’t worry us too much, I don’t think,’ he said.

  ‘I think it ought to,’ I said, squeezing my thighs together, ‘or I think I’m going to wet myself.’

  ‘Not on the floor, young lady,’ he said sternly. ‘Here, come and do it down the drain, and I’ll watch. That will be exciting.’

  I made to object, but he had already begun to waddle off between the stacks, and I could only follow. At the far end a dusty brick arch opened into a gloomy area beneath grubby squares of glass set into the street above. I’d never bothered to look in there before, but sure enough, there was a drain at the centre. I made a face as I looked down at it, wondering if I should claim to want to do something more, but quickly deciding that he was quite capable of wanting to watch that as well.

  ‘Don’t be shy,’ he said, standing back to ensure himself a prime view of pussy as I urinated, ‘it’s only natural.’

  ‘Maybe,’ I tried, ‘but I’m not sure I can do it while you’re watching.’

  ‘Try and see,’ he suggested.

  I drew a heavy sigh, telling myself that he’d seen me nude, stuck his finger up my bum and masturbated me to orgasm, so peeing in front of him shouldn’t have been that terrible. It was still deeply humiliating as I squatted down over the drain, as low as I dared so it wouldn’t squirt all over the floor, squeezed, and let go. I wasn’t really urgent at all, and only a little squirt came out at first, but it quickly built to a trickle, splashing on the iron grate and wetting my bum cheeks and thighs, so that I was forced to lift myself up a little more.

  Mr Prufrock watched the whole display with deep interest, and gave a satisfied click of his tongue as I wiggled to shake the last few drops free from my pussy lips. I stood up, blushing a little and trying to think of another excuse, only to start back in surprise. He had begun to peel down his zip.

  ‘I must say,’ he said, ‘your little show has had a considerable effect on me.’

  He had taken out his cock, which was as fully erect as I’d seen it, even when he’d been in my mouth. I nodded, wondering if it was the smell of me, or whether he was just hopelessly perverse. In any case, I had the answer.

  ‘Maybe you’d like me to do it again?’ I suggested. ‘You could bring a chair over, to watch properly, and I’m sure I could do a lot more if I had some water to drink. I’ll even do it backwards, if you like, so you can see my bum, or I could suck you while I did it? Maybe you could even come?’

  At that he nodded, and I knew I’d won.

  ‘I’ll just need to buy some water,’ I told him, ‘but I can go to the shop under the bridge and I’ll be back in no time.’

  ‘Yes, why not?’ he said. ‘You’re a very thoughtful girl, Pippa.’

  I smiled and kissed his forehead, then scampered quickly back to where I’d left my clothes, which gave me a chance to text Clive. Mr Prufrock was soon back, but I was still doing up my blouse when the knock came on the door, which gave me the perfect opportunity to nip behind one of the stacks so I wasn’t seen, and then retrieve th
e key once he’d returned it to his jacket pocket.

  As I ran up the stairs I felt elated. Complicated or not, my plan was working, and although there were plenty more things that could go wrong I felt full of confidence. I raced for the key-cutting booth in Tower Hill station, only to find that they had no blanks for the ancient key. The locksmith was sure he could do it anyway, and I was left hopping from foot to foot in anxiety while he rummaged for bits of metal, ground and cut, finally producing an adequate copy of the key.

  I ran back as fast as I could, realised I’d forgotten the water, dashed to the shop under the bridge and once more to Montague, Montague, Todmorden and Montague, only to discover I needn’t have hurried at all. Clive and Mr Prufrock were still busy deep in the archives, huddled over a box of ancient, dusty files just a few feet from the drain I’d peed down. I returned the original key to Mr Prufrock’s jacket, hid the water so I wouldn’t have to admit that particular dirty detail to Clive, and successfully passed on the copy.

  Everything was ready, and was sure to work just so long as I could get my timing right. I’d have to drink my water, then wait until I was urgent, which would give Clive plenty of time, and as Mr Prufrock and I would be at the back of the stacks it would be easy for him to unlock the door without being detected. He’d then have to find an excuse for one of the other Blockhouse boys to come down to the archives, and I’d have to take my time over Mr Prufrock’s cock, but that was easy. I was so excited that even the hideous embarrassment of being caught sucking off a dirty old man didn’t seem completely unbearable.

  Clive pretended to abandon his search as hopeless and it was my turn once more. I’d bought two litres of water, which I pulled out from behind his desk as Mr Prufrock locked the door. As I began to drink he was already rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

  ‘Oh you dirty, dirty little thing!’ he said. ‘Knickers off ready then . . . or no, on second thoughts, take everything else off and leave your knickers on. I think it would be rather fun to watch you pee in them.’