Marianna had not been expecting any callers, so when a knock rapped at her door she was immediately suspicious. She was not concerned for her safety as she knew the security around the little 'harem' Zystrom had stashed here was tight, but generally a caller would make themselves known via intercom, which would sound in her kitchen and they would ask for admittance. It was probably one of the girls then, after a cup of sugar or something. They didn't normally knock at her door, but perhaps after the recent office activities she had moved up in their esteem. Wow, things were looking up. Before she knew it they'd be round for supper and girlie gossip. She'd better brush up on her kitchen skills, which had become almost non-existent during the last year. The salads she existed on weren't much fun, but they were easy and when there was only her to cook for, she couldn't be bothered with much else.
Striding over to the large pine door, her toes curling in the beige shag-pile carpet, she peered out of the small window as her hand grasped for the handle. She got the shock of her life. There, on her doorstep, was Mark Matthews. Her first reaction was to run and hide, even though she knew he'd seen her. She wasn't ready for him. Her hair was a mess, her feet were bare, nail varnish chipped and half a dozen other reasons like the fact that he scared her senseless. Her hand hovered over the steel lever of her front door and began to shake.
'Let me in, Marianna.'
His voice was a gentle, seductive purr and whilst it might have calmed a skittish pussycat or two, it didn't do much to calm her.
'Just a second. Be right there.' Oh hell, Marianna thought, running her fingers halfway through her hair before losing them to a pile of Medusa-like writhing snakes, all of which refused to be tamed. Trying to extricate them, she almost lost a fingernail in the process and yanking her hand back out again she decided he'd just have to appreciate the ruffled 'bed-head' look. Hey, some people paid a lot of money to get their hair looking like that. Marianna just happened to be able to achieve it for free.
'I'm waiting.' The voice was cool, collected and faintly amused.
Marianna was searching the room for a pair of shoes. Any shoes would do as long as they matched and covered her toenails. Spying a pair of fluffy pink slipper-booties she rapidly worked them over her feet with one hand, while the other was pretending to open the door.
'I can break it down if you prefer? You girls like that type of thing, right?'
'Wrong.' The door opened and Marianna witnessed her boss trying desperately hard to cling on to his deadpan expression. Giving him a dark look, she said, 'Have you ever heard of a thing called the telephone? It's a really handy gadget. It allows you to warn people in advance of...'
'I'm well aware of what a telephone is used for, but thank you for the reminder, Miss Morreau. I wanted to surprise you.'
'Congratulations, you've succeeded.' She pulled the door open wide and stood back to allow him entrance. Her heart rate had already accelerated up 36,000 feet in the air and her stomach was on its way up to meet it. 'I thought you were away on business until tomorrow evening, Sir.'
'Change of plans.' Mark strode into her spacious modern apartment as if he owned the place, which was only slightly entertaining, considering that he did actually own the block of apartments. 'Oh, where are my manners? I've brought you a present.' He held out a shiny black rectangular gift box which sported a giant red bow and grinned at her. Mark was entertained to find that Marianna's fingers shook somewhat as they gently pried the box out of his hands.
'Thank you, but you really don't need to buy me presents. You pay me more than enough as it is.' Placing the box on her smooth pinewood dinner table and using the opportunity to catch her breath, she eventually turned to ask, 'Can I get you a drink?' She wanted a chance to escape his assessing all over gaze, put a dash of make-up on and apply another fresh coat of polish to her feet.
'No, thank you. The present isn't really for you, it's for us. We'll open it together, later.' He moved into the lounge and took a seat on her large faux-suede sofa. Crossing his legs and sinking into the soft padding, he looked quite at home. His assessment of her body continued, quite happily, until it reached her feet, where it stopped abruptly. He pursed his lips. 'Love the boots. Did you wear them especially for me?' His eyes twinkled with mirth.
'Would you like me to remove them, Sir?' She stood perfectly still, facing him, and her long black lashes batted over dark green eyes already smouldering with heat.
'Actually, Miss Morreau, I'd like you to remove everything. You'd better hope you've remembered to forgo wearing your panties and bra or you're in for a rather unpleasant start to your evening.' This time he raised both of his eyebrows in challenge, the look he was wearing one of pure devilment.
Marianna just managed to stop her face from crumpling into a look of despair. Her look would have read: oh my God, of all the rotten luck in the world, how can this be happening to me, fuck it. This thought was followed by: there must be some way I can extricate myself from this mess. Toying with a very cute and cuddly pink bootie, before flipping it off with her foot and kicking it behind her, she decided to play it cool. There was a good chance that the situation was not lost. If she could strip off her skirt and the waistband of her panties in one movement, keeping the latter hidden inside the former, she might be able to save her ass from some serious carnage. It had to be worth a try. It didn't matter that she had been told he was out of town on business or that he had never visited her before - or any of the other girls, to her knowledge - in her apartment, if she had been given a direct order to wear no panties, he would expect it to be immediately obeyed, without question, and at all times. How could she have been so stupid? In her defence it had been an automatic reaction to pull out a pair of panties as soon as she had finished her half-hour soak in the bath tub. Arrgh. She was going to have to bin the contents of her panty drawer to make sure she was never tempted to make such a mistake again.
Kicking off another bootie she bared her chipped 'Jungle Red' toes and wiggled them into the carpet in an effort to hide them. She needn't have bothered. His eyes were already working their way up her body for the main event.
Starting at her neck she began opening the buttons of the soft, buttery, chocolate silk shirt she had donned only moments ago. Amazingly, her hands were steady and the little brown discs almost flew open of their own accord. She let the material hang over the soft 'V' of her bared breasts before shrugging the fabric backwards, over her shoulders, and letting it drop elegantly to the floor. Her nipples immediately peaked and the aureoles surrounding them deepened in colour.
Mark's eyes had darkened. His easy, relaxed posture remained the same, his hands in his lap and his back folded into the chair behind him, but something had changed. There was the scent of danger in the air. 'Congratulations. No bra, Miss Morreau. This is a promising start.'
Marianna could feel tiny little beads of sweat beginning to form behind her ears and at the back of her neck. Oh, why hadn't she thought of the panty thing before she opened the door? Worrying about her hair and chipped polish seemed rather silly in comparison to the mess she might shortly find herself in, if her performance did not go to plan.
'Is there something you wish to tell me, Miss Morreau?' Mark had a smug grin on his face and if she didn't know better she could have sworn the man had x-ray vision, feeling his stare melt through the delicate satin of her oyster-grey skirt to reveal the white wisp of lace panties below.
Marianna shook her head firmly, put on her best coquettish smile and let her hands caress her naked torso as they made their way down to her skirt. A bead of sweat trickled down her back. Thank god he couldn't see it. Concentrate, Marianna, she berated herself, and smiled. Gripping the waistband of both skirt and panties at the same time, her hands did not give themselves away in the slightest. There was no discernible tremor, no tell-tale wobble as they slid down her delicately perfumed flesh. If she was honest, she would have to admit that she was looking forward to getting naked. There was no embarrassment to be had in revealing
her body, not an ounce of fat graced it and not a single blemish dared to accost the expanse of subtly tanned flesh that covered her both front and back. Although Mark's visit had come as a shock, her body was already looking forward to being used and worshipped by his. So there was only one last obstacle standing in the way of a night which could be painful, pleasurable or a decadent mixture of both. She was not entirely sure which option she preferred.
Feeling moisture begin to bubble between her legs, she tried to summon her thoughts together to complete her striptease. It was one simple move, one mere flourish of her hands and then the offending items could be tossed into a corner to be forgotten for the evening. Her thumbs hooked under the waistband of both skirt and panties combined and, with a deep breath she pushed them deftly to the floor, before one lithe, long leg kicked the offending articles away from her. She did not risk a glance backwards to check upon the landing position of her wardrobe. Instead she moved forward, towards the man who had been the object of her desires for so long and asked seductively, in her soft, breathless voice, 'How may I please you, Sir?'
That and her near-nakedness should have been enough to distract any normal man from perusing the discarded items of clothing in too much detail. But of course, Mark Matthews was not in the least bit normal.
'You may please me, Marianna, by fetching me your lovely skirt. I wish to inspect its contents.'
Marianna's face dropped faster than a skydiver with no parachute. Trying to quickly repair her blunder she plastered on a bright smile and brought her eyes up to meet his. It was too late, though, for he had spotted her mistake and his grin became an awful lot wider. She had no choice but to run and fetch the offending article of clothing for his deliberation. There was no question that she could get rid of the panties inside the skirt without a great deal of rummaging about, and that would simply mire her deeper into the land of immense trouble she had created for herself.
With a heavy heart she walked the few paces needed to pick up her skirt, examined the landing spot and found that no hint of her panties was visible from within its fallen folds. How on earth had he known? Bending down she clutched the floaty fabric in her hands and made short work of delivering it to her Master. Her fate would be decided in short order, and due to her error and the lie, albeit of omission, she would probably be in for a trying evening - to say the least.
Passing the lightweight ripples of satin into his awaiting hands, there was a discernible tremor that ran right through her. Needing something to do she knelt in front of him and clutched her hands behind her back before dipping her eyes to the floor.
Even though now focused on the carpet she still managed to catch a glimpse of her skirt as it was gently unfolded. The material was then shaken vigorously and her traitorous panties fell to the floor, almost invisible on the beige carpet before her - almost, but not quite.
'Well, well, what have we here?'
There was a lengthy silence, and in the end Marianna decided he was waiting for her to break it. It took some effort to pry her tongue from the roof of her mouth, and further effort to make it articulate intelligible words. Finally she managed to utter, 'My panties, Sir,' in a broken sort of whisper and added, 'I'm sorry.' It would not be as simple as an apology though, and her thoughts began to run riot as to what torments might befall her shortly.
'Oh, I suspect you are, Marianna, but not half as sorry as you will be.'
A Spanking Goodnight
After an exhausting crawl back to the stables Jenny found herself smartly lined up with all the other ponies. Squirming in the prickly hay, a long line of bare buttocks were mounted in the air, quivering with apprehension. Thankfully she couldn't feel the annoying spikes of the bedding beneath her, but that did not mean she was at all enamoured of the thin cocoon of latex which protected her. She had been in the suit less than two hours and she could honestly say she would have happily traded her soul in order to escape it. Gearing up to torment her further, the incessant vibrations increased and with shocking intensity.
Similarly on all fours, the girls in front of her had been stripped of most of their tack and given a good rub down. Their bodies displayed the tell-tale marks of a good grooming and every single inch of skin on display had pinked in colour, some more than others. Each ass cheek, without exception, had blossomed from the pale white hue upon awakening to the colour of brilliant fuchsia.
They had obviously been waiting for her and none of them looked particularly pleased. Ah yes, that would probably be because they were all getting a few extra spanks due to Lyle's nastiness yesterday. It was hardly her fault and what was an extra ten spanks between friends, anyway? It wasn't as if most of these weirdo's didn't enjoy it, was it? To be honest, Jenny had even decided she was looking forward to a little heat on her backside, because the damn vibrating dildos were beginning to drive her mad as they twisted and drilled inside her. The suit had taken its time with a slow build-up of sensation and it was now beginning to get nasty, employing all of its nefarious devices in perfect unison. Still, it hadn't managed to get to her yet and she refused to let its continuous pestering affect her. Mind over matter, she told herself. She could beat this. She could beat them. The only question was time.
'Have all the grooms got their spanking hands ready and primed?' Kyle was wearing a sickening grin as he faced them all, and his wide-legged stance with his green crocodile boots pointed in opposing directions meant business. He rubbed his hands together as if to confirm his obvious glee, before he continued. 'We'll start with a warm-up hand spanking, to get the fillies used to the idea, and then we'll progress to paddles. When I think we've adequately prepared these asses we'll finish up with our final ten additional spanks of the evening, which have been provided courtesy of Miss Redcliff, and these will be delivered by your belts, gentlemen.'
The long line of ponies treated this news, on the whole, as bad. There were a few gasps, some lip biting, some excited whinnying, some head tossing and more than a couple of dark looks directed at Jenny. She sensibly kept her eyes forward and on the floor. She was in enough trouble already.
'To make things a little more interesting and challenging for our lead pony, Petal, she'll need to suck five cocks to completion before we begin the final ten. So the length of your warm-up is entirely dependent on her abilities. Let's all hope she's a good little cocksucker, shall we? If not, you're all going to be bedding down to sleep on your stomachs, ponies.'
Due to Jenny's field of vision being severely limited with her tiny little eye slits, she didn't see Kyle's nod of the head which indicated the proceedings should begin. When Daniel slammed his hand into her backside, offering little sympathy for the day's previous abuse, she shrieked out a vehement protest. He paid not the slightest bit of attention to her and when the next slap of his hand landed on her buttocks she almost wished for the gag to be back in her mouth. At least she would have something to bite down upon. Even though the initial spanks of his hand weren't particularly fierce, they stung with a fervour that was unholy.
Twin tears trickled down Jenny's cheeks. Thankfully they were obscured from view, although she was beginning to wonder if she cared. What started as tears could well end in screaming and all around her would hear those, she would make sure of it. Her previous stripes from the cane at the auction were going to make this new ordeal the worst she had endured yet. If she was crying at a few handprints, by the time Daniel had unleashed his belt she would be screeching. The thin rubber coating which covered her from head to toe did little to lessen the severity of the smack and only served to be a hot, sticky annoyance. She squirmed. Daniel grabbed her tail, which thankfully was not now embedded in her ass, and wound it carefully around his free hand as the other continued to do damage.
'Stay still, Petal,' he said softly. 'You've got to try and set an example for the herd.'
An example for what? Her ability to withstand ridiculous and nonsensical discipline? She was going to set an example all right. First, she was going to test the pow
ers of her newly corseted lungs by yelling the place down. She opened her mouth to do just that when she felt something press against her lips and shoot forward. She did not have to peer down to ascertain what it was that had just filled her mouth. It was soft, it was silky, it was delightfully fragranced with a sweet, citrusy, lemony soap, and it was by far the best thing she had tasted in the last three days.
When it sunk straight to the back of her gullet and started swelling in the hot confines of her throat she nearly came on the spot, but the suit had other ideas. All of the thrusting dildos stopped in mid-stroke and at the same time the vibrations cut out. That in itself wouldn't have stopped her orgasm, but unfortunately two twin nipple clamps bore down on her very tender teats and the pressure was excruciating. That took care of the impending explosion. She cried out in pain, but due to the thick cock now filling her mouth, there was little sound to be heard.
'Goddamn, she's tight. You said she was good, Kyle, but hell, the back of this throat is heavenly.'
'I'm looking forward to sampling the delights after you lot have finished, Dino, so get a move on.'
Jenny heard Kyle's voice to the rear of her, muted somewhat through her hood, but didn't pay it much attention. She was more intent on sucking the long spear in front of her clean of all its deliciously zesty sweetness. After three days of mush anything with a modicum of taste was appealing. What she wouldn't give for a single square of chocolate at this moment in time was anybody's guess. Trying to ignore the way her pussy clenched around the now silent and still sentinels buried deep inside her, she made herself busy slathering the cock in her saliva, before sucking at it as if she were taking part at the national lollipop slurping championships, if there were such a thing.
The thought of doing the member in her mouth some damage didn't even occur to her. The suit had fired her body up to boiling point and the spanks still descending from Daniel's hand kept her pleasantly simmering, with the added stimulus of a cock inside her. The tears were long gone, the pain was manageable and her appetite took on an insatiable demeanour. She loved the feeling of being filled in every available hole, she wanted sex and lots of it, and most of all she really wanted a large, juicy, biggest-orgasm-in-the-world type earthquake. Which she was well aware she was not going to get, for at least the next two days anyway.
A Rough Ride: Pony girl training in latex and leather (Pony Tales Book 5) Page 9