Uniform Doll

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Uniform Doll Page 17

by Penny Birch


  Taking the lead which hung from the rear of the harness, he pulled her out of the thick mud, to the patch of muddy paving beside it. Her bottom came up, the plump white buttocks wiggling. I put a cut across them, and another, making her squeal and drawing thin red lines across her soft flesh. It had to hurt, but there was no doubting her eagerness, so I laid in, whipping her as Rupert held her lead twisted in her hand, her head pressed low to the ground.

  It was so horny, just beating her as she was held for my attention. I could see her pussy juicing, the chubby lips slowly growing puffy and the hole moist. My own wasn’t far behind, with a wet patch in my panties, and I put aside thoughts of my own submission as I laid in, harder and harder.

  She was really squealing, exactly like a pig, and loud enough to have Rupert glancing uneasily towards the houses. I didn’t care, it was just to good to spoil. Her whole bottom was criss-crossed with thin, scarlet lines, the skin inflamed where the crooked bits of the twigs had caught her. I knew the pain she would be feeling, and the helplessness, a whipped, punished pig, held tight as she was punished.

  I could see why she had insisted on no clothes. It would have been totally inappropriate. She needed to be nude, totally bare, totally vulnerable. I hadn’t been sure about the fantasy at first, but I could see it now, with her moaning at my feet, in grovelling, ecstatic submission.

  It would have been nice to frig myself off as I whipped her, but some of the cuts were bad and I didn’t want to make her bleed, while Rupert was going to burst if he didn’t get up her soon. Giving her one last, vicious cut, I dropped the switch, taking her lead from Rupert.

  He didn’t hesitate, but got down behind her and plunged his cock up her sopping pussy. It went straight up, Heather taking it as only a truly aroused girl can. He began to fuck her, holding her hips and pushing against her, to make her whipped bottom quiver and the pig’s tail wobble. I grabbed for the camera, knowing I just had to have the shot, a fucked piggy-girl, red buttocks squashed out against her master’s front, eyes wide, nose turned up to me in its little leather cage.

  I need my clitty rubbed to come, always. Heather didn’t, climaxing just on the feel of Rupert’s cock in her pussy, her whipped flesh and the whole piggy-girl head-trip. I watched it, such a beautiful sight, a woman at orgasm, and in such a condition. Her bottom and thighs tightened, her head went down and she moaned, long and low, coming even as Rupert’s eyes went wide to the feel of the contraction of her hole.

  There was no more holding back for me, not after that. A moment later I had my panties down under my dress and was frigging myself, with my hem held up and my tummy pushed out to show them what I was doing.

  Heather was still trembling, her bottom quivering with the aftershock of climax. I set my eyes on her, feasting on the big, hanging breasts, the big, pale buttocks, so womanly, and in beautiful, filthy, rude contrast to the curly pig’s tail and upturned snout on her face.

  I came, crying out as it hit me, my knees going weak and my head dizzy. Rupert gasped, and at the very peak of my orgasm I saw him snatch his cock from Heather’s hole, push it fast up into the wet crease of her ample bottom and come, over her back and in her hair, finishing himself by milking his cock into her bum-crease and over her anus.

  Heather’s knees had already begun to slide apart, and her hand went back to her bum as she sank down. I watched as she smeared the sperm over her whipped buttocks and into her crease, briefly dabbing some into her bumhole, only to stop as she slumped into the muddy puddle beneath her. Rupert rose, still holding his cock.

  ‘Good, thank you, my dear,’ he said, and blew out his breath.

  Heather gave a faint oink and rolled over onto one elbow, smiling happily up at us.

  ‘No, I should be thanking you,’ she said. ‘You treated me so well.’

  ‘Any time,’ I offered.

  ‘Again, soon,’ she said. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Nearly ten,’ Rupert answered.

  ‘I’d better get back,’ she sighed. ‘Six-thirty I’ve got to be up. Thanks again, though, really. That will keep me happy for a long time. Could I use a towel, please?’

  ‘Come in, I’ll get you one,’ I offered. ‘Rupert can clean up.’

  I took her by her lead, pulling her behind me before she could think to retrieve her bag. She followed, and I took her up to the bathroom, where I helped her out of the harness and peeled the nose and tail off. They’d been stuck on with spirit gum, which was quite hard to get off, and left red marks on her skin. I watched her dry her body too, and creamed her smacked bottom for her. That would undoubtedly have turned into something more, with her leaning on the bath, bum stuck out as I rubbed the soothing lotion into her skin. I would have happily licked her from behind, or taken a punishment myself to even things up a bit, but she seemed content with what she’d had and genuinely hurried.

  We talked though, openly, all the time with my guilt for what Rupert and I were about to do building up. When we came downstairs, her uniform was going to have been discovered to be wet and muddy. It would already be in the washing machine. She was so nice, and it just wasn’t fair, while I was feeling like a real bitch.

  By the time we came downstairs to the kitchen I’d decided on a different plan.

  ‘May I ask a favour?’ I said, slipping an arm around her waist.

  ‘Of course,’ she answered.

  ‘When we play with people,’ I started, ‘we like to take a trophy, the girl’s panties usually.’

  ‘They’re yours,’ she said immediately.

  ‘Thanks,’ I went on, ‘but in your case I like a little more, because you were, well, special, and it’ll remind me of the fun we had in the woods.’

  ‘What then?’ she asked.

  ‘Your uniform,’ I said, ‘undies too.’

  Rupert had been listening, his face horrorstruck, and trying to make frantic signs at me behind Heather’s back. She was looking doubtful, but he rallied, laughing.

  ‘What she’s trying to say,’ he told her, ‘is that she wants to wear it herself, preferably for a good spanking. She’s always been into playing at being a nurse. Her favourite is to pretend to be a junior being punished by a sister.’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure,’ Heather replied. ‘You can borrow one, of course. I’ve got three. They come from the company though, and they’re not really mine. For now I’ve really got to get back, or I’ll miss the last tube.’

  ‘Tube?’ Rupert queried. ‘Nonsense. We’ll drive you back.’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly expect you to drive all the way to Romford and back!’

  ‘Not at all. I insist. Besides, some of your things were muddy, and I put them in the washing machine. I didn’t realise you were in such a rush.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your uniform and the bra you were wearing. I put your panties in too.’

  ‘Well . . . Okay. Look, borrow the uniform for now, and I’ll pick it up next week, if you don’t mind me coming around? I could spank you in uniform, Jade, nurse to nurse.’

  ‘Yes, please,’ I answered automatically.

  ‘How about you as well?’ Rupert asked her. ‘Side by side. I’d adore that.’

  I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it quickly, remembering who I was supposed be. He seemed to have forgotten how much of a game we were playing. Heather shrugged.

  ‘If you like,’ she said, ‘although being done in my uniform isn’t really my thing.’

  ‘Not even being spanked in it?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, no,’ she answered. ‘Getting spanked does, sure, and I know lots of men get off on the idea of punishing a nurse, women too, but not me.’

  ‘That’s only natural, I suppose,’ he agreed. ‘After all, much of the fun of role play is to be something you’re not. Still, a nurse is a very sexualised image, however far from reality the fantasy may be. You must get plenty of offers.’

  ‘A few. Mostly from men who want to be mothered rather than spankers. One guy even wanted me to treat
him like a baby, changing his nappy and so on. As if I don’t get enough of that sort of thing at work!’

  ‘Oh, right,’ I put in. ‘I’d have thought it would be more from men who wanted to dominate you?’

  ‘Not really, no. I don’t let my submissive side show normally, either. I have to be really tough at work, sometimes. My life would be a misery otherwise.’

  ‘Hard work, I imagine.’

  ‘Not that so much. It’s being between our managers and the clients’ children. The children are hardest, the girls especially. The women can be awful, real bitches. Whatever I do it’s not right. Now there are a few there I would like to spank, for real!’

  ‘That I would like to see,’ Rupert sighed. ‘There are so many women in this world who would benefit from a good spanking now and then. If only . . .’

  ‘Ignore him,’ I laughed. ‘He thinks feminism means being into lacy undies and print frocks.’

  ‘No, he’s right,’ she said. ‘It’s true. There’s nothing like a spanking to stop someone getting above themselves, or to put them in their place if they do.’

  ‘Well spoken,’ Rupert put in.

  ‘In a fantasy, sure,’ I said, ‘or if a girl wants it. Not for real, though!’

  ‘Why not?’ she went on. ‘In the right circumstances.’

  ‘You’d spank a girl, say, if she . . . say, tried to snatch your bag and you caught her?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Rupert cut in, ‘because society would deem her as much the criminal as the bag-snatcher. What Heather is saying is that she ought to be able to do it.’

  ‘That’s what I meant, more or less,’ I answered him.

  ‘Imagine,’ he said dreamily, ‘a girl out bag-snatching, down at the Archway, on those rollerblades, maybe. She snatches a woman’s bag, and off she goes, laughing, and expecting everyone to just let her get away with it. Instead some passing gentleman sticks out a foot. Over she goes, flat on her face, and before she knows it a whole ring of angry people are standing around her. They pull her up, throw her over the back of a bench. Men hold her, two on each limb. Up goes her little skirt. Down come her panties. There’s her round little teenage bum, well parted, with everything showing, and she’s struggling and using every bit of filthy language she knows. They ignore her, and the woman she tried to rob dishes out a damn good spanking. How the girl would howl!’

  ‘And she’d think twice about doing it again,’ Heather added. ‘Don’t you agree, Jade?’

  ‘Well, I . . .’ I started, and stopped. ‘No, it’s too open to abuse. Who’s to say when the girl’s been naughty enough to deserve it? Or what she should get? You’d have businessmen spanking their secretaries for spilling the coffee, and doubtless demanding blow-jobs afterwards. You’d end up with girls getting put in the stocks and raped for wearing too much make-up or short skirts. It would never work.’

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ Rupert sighed. ‘Pity, though.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Heather agreed, but it doesn’t alter the fact that a good spanking can put someone in their place, woman or man.’

  ‘I always see it as being a woman’s natural place,’ Rupert remarked. ‘Why else did nature provide you with such wonderfully padded bottoms?’

  ‘Not so you could smack them!’ I retorted. ‘Isn’t he rotten, Heather? You should see his collection of dirty magazines. Every one of them full of girls getting spanked.’

  ‘How about ones of you getting spanked?’ she asked me. ‘I’d rather see those.’

  ‘There are some, yes,’ I lied hastily. ‘Not that many.’

  ‘We’ve only been together a year,’ Rupert added.

  ‘I’d love to see them,’ she said, ‘and the ones you took of me.’

  ‘You will,’ I promised, ‘next week. For now, we’d better get a move on.’

  ‘You’re right,’ she agreed. ‘I’d better get dressed.’

  We left, Rupert driving as before, with Heather and I in the back. I meant to keep my hands to myself, more or less, but we were both still pretty drunk, and high on what we’d done. Before we got to Finchley we were snogging, and only holding back from more because people could see in at the windows.

  It got better once we’d reached the North Circular, which was pretty well empty. In no time Heather had her top up and her boobs out of her bra, while my dress was around my waist. I suckled her, which always makes me want to be spanked, and before long I’d crawled across her knee, with my bottom pushed up for her attention.

  She was gentle, stroking my bum and my hair too, giving me little pats, but nothing hard. After a while my panties came down, and she got more intimate, stroking my bottom crease, the insides of my thighs, and at last my pussy, from behind, with her hand pushed down between my legs. It tickled crazily, and had me writhing, but I took it, getting more and more turned on. I had my dress right up, boobs out, and was feeling them, sure that she was going to bring me to the most beautiful orgasm, but just in her own time.

  It didn’t happen. We came off the main road, and over a roundabout, where there was a police car waiting for drunks. Rupert asked us to cover up, and we obeyed, which was just as well, because a few minutes later we were on a busy, well-lit road, with plenty of pedestrians able to peer in at the windows. Not that I was prepared to let it go. I was far too horny.

  ‘You’re going to have to find somewhere to stop,’ I told Rupert. ‘I need my panties pulling down. I need spanking and I need to come.’

  ‘I know a place,’ Heather said. ‘Turn left at the next lights.’

  Rupert turned, and before long we had reached a road that stopped at a great heap of rubble. By then I was back across Heather’s knee, bum up as she fondled me. She’d been getting harder too, and my cheeks were pleasantly warm.

  ‘Rupert can watch,’ I sighed. ‘Come on, Heather, make me come.’

  ‘Rupert can help,’ she said decisively. ‘Come on, young lady, so far I’ve been getting much too much of the attention. It’s your turn.’

  She took me by the ear, pulling me up. I went, allowing her to turn me over on the back seat, with my bottom stuck out towards Rupert. I knew he could see everything, or would be able to once my panties came down, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to or not.

  I didn’t get much option. First they turned the light on so that they could see properly, and then Heather pulled down my panties. I moaned at that, imagining the view from behind, with my big pink bum stuck out and my cheeks open. He could see my pussy and bumhole, and I was going to be spanked, and frigged off, right in front of him. Well, he’d done me earlier, and we were supposed to be together, so I shut my eyes and tried not to think of prying male eyes on the most intimate parts of my body.

  Heather’s arm came around my waist, tucking under my tummy to hold me firmly in place. Her hand came onto my bottom, stroking the seat of my panties, patting me, moving to make my cheeks wobble, stroking again, higher, one finger tracing a slow line up the shallow groove of cotton that hid my crease . . .

  Suddenly my panties were down, whipped off my bum without the slightest preamble and I was bare, showing, with the air suddenly cool on the moist flesh of my pussy and up between my open cheeks. I’d squeaked, loudly, and braced myself, expecting a torrent of hard spanks. None came, Heather’s hand returning to the gentle fondling of my bum.

  She was patting, too, using her finger tips to smack playfully at the crests of my cheeks, not hard, but hard enough to tingle and make me want more. I stuck it up, swallowing my angst at making a yet ruder show for Rupert, and she began to get harder, smacking, breaking off to stroke and tickle, smacking again.

  I’d began to wiggle my toes in my shoes, having trouble handling the tickling in my bum-crease despite being so turned on. I’d peed before we’d left, for which I was deeply thankful. I could still feel the muscles of my pussy twitching in response, my bladder too, which I knew would be filling from all the wine I’d drunk. I was trying to stop myself from giggling as well, and was making o
dd little noises in my throat, with my control slipping quickly away under Heather’s hands.

  Fortunately she got rougher before there could be a disaster, her arm tightening around my waist and her pats changing to proper spanks. I could hear a slapping noise too, which I knew was Rupert tugging at his cock, and realised that she was purposefully making a show of me, turning play to punishment to turn him on. My response was a whimper, thinking of his big ugly cock hard in his hand and my pussy gaping and bare between smacked cheeks. She stopped, abruptly, both hands going to my bum.

  ‘Oh she does have a lovely bottom,’ she said, smoothing her hands across my hot cheeks. ‘Couldn’t you just eat her? You’ll fuck her for me, won’t you, Rupert?’

  I managed a mew of protest, nothing more. Heather carried, on, oblivious to my feelings, doubtless thinking that there would be nothing I’d like more than my boyfriend’s cock up my pussy once I’d been properly spanked. I wasn’t sure I could stop myself either, if he did try it, because my feelings were getting quickly stronger, my desire to surrender myself growing.

  It happens to me, always, but not usually with the one man I could actually bear to have sexual contact with tugging at his cock behind me. It was going to go up, I was sure it was, and I couldn’t stop myself from wanting it, any more than I could stop my pussy juicing over Heather’s attention to my bottom. Faintly I was hoping that Rupert would have the decency to hold back, but even that wasn’t so strong.

 

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