by Penny Birch
That was what hurt, as I kicked and wriggled across his knee with the tears running down my face at one end and a mixture of lubricant jelly and cunt juice running down my thighs at the other. My first, and it had to be Morris, and worse, I suspected he’d known full well I’d end up over his knee from the moment he met me. Now I was nude and spanked with a plug up my bum, in utter disgrace with an audience of men, women and my own baby sister to witness my humiliation.
By the time Morris was finished with me I was dizzy and faint, hardly able to stand up as Harmony ordered me across her lap. I got it anyway, and again, from Annabelle, and from Mr Enos, from Sophie and from Mr Judd, until they’d all begun to blend into one and it seemed as if my smacked bottom was the centre of my whole world. Some took me further than others – Penny, squirting jelly all over my burning cheeks and rubbing it in before she began to spank me; Mr Spottiswood, who retrieved my knickers and stuffed them up my cunt; Mr Protheroe, who extracted the plug from my anus and let everyone have a good stare up my gaping, slippery bumhole before putting it back in; Toy, who transferred my panties from my cunt to my mouth and stuck a second plug up me instead, for a brief fucking, before it was once more extracted. She was second last, and left me spread-eagled on the floor, almost out of my senses, and yet I knew who was left.
‘One last time, Pippa,’ Morris announced, ‘but rather a special one, I suspect. Come along, Jemima, time to spank your big sister.’
I wasn’t even sure where Jemima was, but I heard her voice.
‘Should I, do you think?’
‘Of course,’ Morris answered.
‘She spanked you, didn’t she?’ Melody put in.
‘I know, but . . . are you OK, Pip?’
She sounded worried, and no surprise. I must have looked a sight, with my naked body slick with sweat and my face wet with tears, my bum like a shiny red cherry from spanking and jelly. Forcing myself to roll over, I spat my panties out and nodded, my vision swimming slowly into focus. She was standing up in front of Hudson Staebler. Her panties were around her ankles, her school blouse was open to show her tits, and he had a full erection sticking up from his fly.
‘I . . . I suppose I’d better do it then,’ she said.
I pulled myself up to my knees, waiting as she came across and took her place on the spanking chair, as breezy and fresh as ever, smiling as she patted her lap for me to come across. She was going to spank me, my own baby sister, and if I thought I’d had emotion slapped out of me, I was wrong. A huge bubble of shame had begun to grow in my throat as I crawled close, and as my belly pressed to her bare legs and I lifted my bottom I was thinking of how she’d always followed my lead, how she’d always looked up to me, how she’d always copied me. Now I was over her knee in the nude, and she was about to copy me one more time, by smacking my bare bottom in front of an audience, just as I’d smacked hers. She giggled as her hand settled across my cheeks.
‘Can I, Pip?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ I managed.
‘Yes what?’ she replied.
‘Yes you may . . . you can spank me.’
‘No, Pippa, I want the magic word.’
I heard Morris chuckle.
‘Yes, please!’ I answered. ‘Please spank me, Jemima.’
‘No, Pippa,’ she said again. ‘I want you to say it properly. How about ‘‘please spank my naughty bottom, Jemima’’?’
I looked up, to glare at Hudson Staebler, who’d obviously been coaching her. He smiled and waggled his erection at me.
‘Come on,’ Jemima urged. ‘Say it.’
‘OK, if I have to . . . please . . . please spank my naughty bottom, Jemima, you little cow.’
‘Hey! That’s no way to speak to me when you’re over my knee.’
She’d planted a single slap on my bottom as she spoke, but that meant everything. It was done, my bottom smacked by my little sister, and as I spoke again I could barely get the words out for the sulky, resentful feelings inside me.
‘Please, Jem, just do it if you’re going to.’
‘No. I want you to say it properly, and just for calling me a cow you have to say . . . to say ‘‘please, Jemima, I want my naughty bottom spanked, and . . . and I think big sisters ought to be spanked by little sisters, a lot’’.’
‘Jem, please, I already feel utterly humiliated!’
‘Just say it, Pip. Oh, and apologise for how you did me.’
‘Jem . . .’
‘Just say it.’
She had that stubborn tone in her voice, and I knew she’d hold me over her lap all evening if I didn’t give in.
‘OK,’ I told her, my voice cracking to a sob as I spoke. ‘I . . . I’m sorry I spanked you in a temper, and . . . and I think big sisters ought to be spanked by their little sisters . . . especially me, so please, Jemima, spank my naughty bottom. OK?’
‘That’s better,’ she said, and began to spank me.
It wasn’t hard, but I was over my little sister’s knee, my bare bottom flaunted to the world with a big fat plug in my anus and my cunt dripping juice down my legs. Before she’d even got to work properly I was fighting an awful desire just to spread my legs apart and rub pussy off on her thigh, and as the smacks got harder and each one started to jam the plug in up my bumhole I knew I couldn’t hold it back any more.
‘Sorry, Jem, I have to,’ I gasped. ‘I know I’m a slut, but I have to . . .’
I broke off, my thighs coming wide, around her leg.
‘Pippa!’
A great wave of shame hit me at the sound of her voice, but it was too late. I was rubbing myself on her leg, my cunt splayed on my own sister’s bare flesh, the plug pumping in my bumhole to my frantic bucking, and the spanks had only stopped for a moment.
‘You bad girl!’ she laughed. ‘You bad, bad, bad girl, Pippa!’
Again her voice filled me with shame, but she was spanking me, and hard, raining smacks on my bottom as I rubbed myself towards an orgasm of orgasms, and all the while calling me a bad girl and saying my name over and over again. She was right. I was bad, a filthy little tart, and she was right about the spanking too, because I did need my naughty bottom smacked, and by her, because there could be nothing quite so perfectly humiliating for a girl as taking a spanking from her baby sister.
I was screaming as I came, and bucking my bottom up and down on her leg in the most filthy, lewd display possible, with everything showing and no doubt at all that I’d made myself come deliberately, masturbating on Jemima’s leg like the dirty, debauched little tart I am. Not even the clapping and cheers from the audience penetrated my senses until I was nearly finished, and that only for an instant before my vision turned red and the whole room seemed to cave in around me.
The next hour or so passed in a blur. I’d only been out for a few seconds, but I had everybody crowding around me trying to help or giving advice. Soon I was propped up on the sofa with a glass of brandy, cuddled up to Penny with a ring of people standing around me. With the spankings over, the men were doing their best to persuade the girls to go upstairs, generally successfully.
I’d seen Sophie lead Mr Enos from the room by his hand, which seemed a most bizarre choice, and Toy had gone with Mr Mulligan, presumably for a bit of rough sex. Helen hadn’t even been allowed the privacy of a bedroom, and was down on her knees with her still-flushed bottom stuck out behind, sucking Mr Montague’s cock. Jemima was close by, talking to Hudson Staebler and with her blouse done up again, although at some point she’d lost her knickers. Morris was with me too, and I had to know if I’d really been tricked.
‘Did you cheat?’
‘Yes,’ he admitted, ‘of course, but please don’t think I am insulting your intelligence. The idea was to give you an excuse to spank your sister, which she undoubtedly deserved. I’m not sure I’ve ever met such a brat. Lovely girl, of course, but an utter brat.’
I shrugged, unable to deny what he was saying. He gave a wry grin. I stood up and went over to the nearest of several mir
rors, turning to admire the state of my bottom. Even sitting on the sofa I’d felt tender, and it was no surprise. My cheeks were both rich red, with bruising in places, and it was going to be a while before I could sit down comfortably.
The plug was still in up my bottom, which looked and felt extremely rude. I was giggling to myself as I turned away, and wondering what I should do with the rest of the evening. It felt good to be in the nude, and I remembered the snout and tail in my bag, which I was sure would add a certain something.
Penny helped me put them on, transforming me into a skinny little pig, with my upturned snout and the curly pink tail bobbing over my smacked cheeks. Everyone seemed to like it, and I soon found myself getting attention from the men, one of whom, I knew, was going to take me upstairs. Mr Spottiswood asked first, and I turned him down, but he wouldn’t go away, and so when Lucius Todmorden asked, I accepted.
He took my hand and led me from the room, he fully dressed in dinner jacket and black tie, me stark naked save for my snout and tail with the plug showing between my wiggling bum cheeks as I walked. I’d already decided to let him have me, and the way he liked best. In one of Morris’s bedrooms I was made to kneel on all-fours and suck his cock while he admired my rear view in one of the mirrors.
When he was hard his cock went up me for my second ever fucking, again on all-fours and in front of the mirror so I could watch as I was penetrated, as my bottom squashed to the thrusts of his belly, as my tits jiggled and bounced beneath me. I looked good, a little fucked pig taking her gentleman from the rear, but I kept my hands firmly off pussy, because I knew full well that he wasn’t finished with me.
Soon he’d begun to move the plug in my bottom and ask me how it felt. I said it was nice and that he could put his cock in if he liked, and that was that, seduced to sodomy in two sentences – but then I am a little tart. He withdrew and pulled the plug out, leaving my anus agape, had me suck my own juice from his cock for good measure, and buggered me.
I was creamy and well stretched by the plug, my bumhole giving easily to the pressure, and for the second time in my life I had a man’s cock in my rectum. As he began wedging himself deep inside me I was thinking that it was something I could get used to, especially if it was done after a good spanking. Soon I’d slipped my hand back, masturbating over both the feel of his cock as it worked in my bum and the thought of being spanked and sodomised.
‘Good idea,’ he grunted as I began to masturbate. ‘You make yourself come.’
My fingers were already busy, and I just nodded, enjoying the feel of his cock pumping in my bumhole as I snatched at pussy and let my mind run on the joy of a good buggering. I thought of how rude I looked in the mirror, with my little round pig’s bum stuck in the air and his cock up my bottom hole. I thought of the first time, with my head down the toilet as Clive spunked up in my rectum. I thought of the men I’d let inside me in the future, and how I’d get them to spank me and then bugger me, and worse.
There was worse, something else I wanted to do too, had to do, one more filthy detail the boys had fixed in my head. He was deep in me, pumping towards orgasm in my now aching bumhole, faster and faster, and as my pleasure rose my embarrassment for what I wanted gave way to need, the words finally tumbling from my lips.
‘Not up my bum, Lucius . . . not up my bum. Do it in my mouth . . . spunk in my mouth, Lucius . . . I want to suck your dirty cock! Please!’
‘Never refuse a lady,’ he grunted, and pulled out.
Even as I said it I hadn’t known if I could really do it, but now it was too late, his cock pushing at my face as I scrambled around on the bed. My mouth came wide, in it went and I was doing it, my head filling with the taste of my own bottom as I snatched and slapped my dirty, greedy little cunt, with jelly and froth blowing from my open bumhole as my muscles went into contraction.
We came together, his spunk filling my mouth and exploding from around my lips as my own orgasm tore through me, and running thick and sticky down over my tits as he pulled out to sit me up and finish off in my face. I was still coming, my mouth wide to show off the pool of spunk on my tongue, my breasts filthy with mess as I rubbed it over them, my face spattered with blobs and streamers of sticky white, over my cheeks and in my eyes, hanging from my chin and my piggy snout too. At the very end he stuck his cock back in my mouth and I took it as deep as I could, still tasting myself as my orgasm gradually faded away.
I was in the most appalling state, and as soon as I could I ran for the loo, still blowing bubbles out of my bumhole. The bathroom was empty, luckily, and I was soon towelling myself after a shower as Lucius washed his penis. He put it away before he spoke.
‘May I ask,’ he enquired. ‘If that was your first time? In your bottom, I mean.’
‘No, not the first,’ I told him, and I saw his face fall ever so slightly. ‘I would have let you, I think, but no. Clive Carew got there first.’
‘Clive?’ he asked, in open astonishment.
I managed a shame-faced grin.
‘And, um . . .,’ he continued. ‘May I enquire if young Clive was the first employee of Montague, Montague, Todmorden and Montague to whom you gave the privilege of your body.’
‘Yes,’ I answered, an instant before the implications of what he was saying sank in. ‘You . . . you know about the bet, don’t you? About Mark James keeping a book on who’d have me first?’
‘As do you, evidently,’ Lucius replied. ‘Mark knows that I am no prude, although that is all he knows, and told me himself in the hope of making a profit, which he has now done.’
‘He has?’
‘So it seems, as I had placed an ante-post bet on myself and hedged a trifle on old Montague. I knew you liked being spanked, you see, and so presumed to suppose either he or I might have the privilege and so be first. I was wrong, at least as regards being first, but no matter. After the privilege of your exquisite bottom, the loss is small, even though you were not virgin.’
I smiled, trying to put a brave face on it. The bet would now be over, and I would come away with nothing, unless a sore bumhole counted. I’d lost my virginity and been sodomised by the office fat boy, sucked cock for probably the filthiest old pervert in London, prostituted myself in all but name, been spanked, pissed on, wanked over and humiliated in a hundred ways, and all for nothing.
At least I could report to AJ that Trilby was the one who’d told Morris what had happened at the Pumps. I’d recognised her while I was over her knee, from her voice and because she’d used almost exactly the same words to me when she stuck the second butt plug up as when she’d fucked me with her strap-on. It had only really sunk in later, but there was no doubt at all, Trilby and Toy were one and the same. She’d been a bitch to me too, so I had no regrets, and she’d only get what I had anyway, more or less.
Nothing too awful had happened to Jemima, if you didn’t count the spanking I’d given her, which was also good. She’d latched onto Hudson Staebler from the first, and stayed with him all evening. He’d had her, including making her suck his cock in front of everybody, but he was the only one. He was also American and only in the UK on a visit, so there weren’t even going to be any long-term repercussions.
There was a lot of embarrassment between us for what we’d done together, but that didn’t last long, and I knew that it was more than likely that I’d be spanking her again, and that she would be spanking me. Otherwise, it was impossible to deny that I’d enjoyed the party, although what I’d done raised more questions about my sexuality than it solved. Only the bet was an unmitigated disaster, and I was kicking myself for letting Lucius Todmorden know about Clive. At least that meant there would be no more playing dirty with Mr Prufrock, although even that came with a trace of regret.
I’d let Mr Montague spank me at some time in the early hours of Sunday morning when the party was beginning to wind down, and on Monday he asked if I’d like to work with him for a while. I accepted, and sent a text to Clive asking him to take me out to lunch at Ch
ampagne Charlie’s, as there was no point in hiding what we’d been up to any more. They all knew, because I’d been getting funny looks all morning, adding to my ill-feeling as I entered the wine bar. Clive was already there, with a bottle of one of their best champagnes in an ice bucket. He was grinning.
‘What are you so cheerful about?’ I asked.
In answer he took a slim piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and laid it on the table in front of me. It was a cheque, for a quite astonishing amount of money, and made out to me.
‘I trust you will forgive me,’ he said, ‘but in the circumstances I felt it wise to hedge our bets a little by putting a small sum on myself. We have done rather well, what with this morning’s odds on the post at 200–1, doubled for your generosity with your delightful derrière.’
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Epub ISBN: 9780753524831
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This book is a work of fiction.
In real life, make sure you practise safe, sane and
consensual sex.
First published in 2007
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Copyright © Penny Birch 2007
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A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.