Uniform Doll

by Penny Birch

  ‘Shut it!’ he grated, and the next instant his cock had pulled from my hole.

  Immediately I was babbling apologies, begging him to fill me, to beat me, to fuck me as I came. He just grunted, and then his cock touched me again, but not on my pussy, on my bumhole.

  ‘Not there! That’s not what I –’ I babbled, and shut up, my mouth wide in a wordless gasp of shock and pain as he jabbed the fat head of his cock into my anus.

  It just went up. I was slimy, too slimy to stop him, wet with my own juice, and loose too, not as tight as I should be, after all the fingers and dildos and candles I’d had wedged up my bum by my girlfriends.

  He didn’t stop either, but forced it in, all of it, the full, fat length of his gross cock, shoved mercilessly up my sloppy back passage, inch by painful inch, until at last his balls bumped against my empty pussy and I knew I was well and truly being buggered. I hadn’t said a word. I couldn’t. I was sobbing though, loudly, and snivelling, with a long strand of snot hanging from my nose, until my face met the floor and it was pushed against my lips. At long last I had a cock up my bottom.

  I felt bloated, not just in my rectum, but my tummy too, even my head, as if by the act of sticking his cock up my bum he had taken over my whole body, making me no more than a sex doll to be jerked on his gross penis. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his hands had closed on my hips, with his thumbs holding my buttocks wide, so that he could see as his cock moved in my ring. I could just picture it, my little pink hole a straining circle of pink flesh around the fat shaft of his cock, plugging my anus between my round, rosy bum-cheeks.

  ‘Frig your cunt, whore,’ he rasped, his filthy, crude language adding just one more awful touch to my degradation.

  I did it too. I didn’t know why, but I did it. Maybe it was the only way out, maybe I just couldn’t help it. As my fingers began to move on my clitty again I slipped back into that dirty, wanton state, when the only thing that matters is my pleasure. Then I knew why, because it was the way out, to admit my own filthy desire to myself, to let it all go, to do what I’d fantasised over so often, and frig with a man’s prick in my dirt box.

  No sooner had that awful piece of self-awareness hit me than I was coming. I gasped, clutching at my pussy, two fingers flicking on my clitty. My pussy tightened, expelling air in a long farting noise, and so did my bumhole, squeezing hard on the intruding penis. I suppose I screamed; I don’t really know, or how long it lasted. All I knew was that I had a man’s cock up my bottom and I was masturbating over the sensation of it. I didn’t even feel him come, but I heard his grunt, at the very peak on my orgasm, with my ring tight on his shaft, and I knew that I’d just had a load of sperm deposited in my rectum.

  I lasted longer than he did, still gasping and clutching at my pussy when he had stopped. Even as he pulled slowly out of me my fingers were still working in my flesh, and they stayed there as I slumped, broken, onto the carpet. He got off me, but I just lay there, with the sperm dribbling out of my bumhole, utterly defeated, spanked and buggered, and as those two words ran over and over through my head I once more began to masturbate.

  I spent Sunday out, in Hertfordshire, straight up the railway line from me, but somewhere I was sure I’d be safe. I was feeling sorry for myself at first, sulking really, I suppose.

  It was not easy coming to terms with having been buggered. I’d known it might happen, one day, but I’d imagined it would be Rupert who did it, or maybe someone like Mark, a bisexual girl’s boyfriend. To have it done by some fat slob of a cabbie was far worse, especially when he’d taken advantage of me so badly. My bumhole ached too, and it was impossible not to play the scene over in my mind. In the end I masturbated over it, I just couldn’t stop myself.

  I did it in a stand of young pines, kneeling bare-bottomed among the fallen needles. My eyes were closed, and I was imagining how his cock and balls had felt in my mouth, the pain and indignity of my spanking, the weight of his gross belly on my bottom before he entered me, and after, with it slapping on my smacked cheeks. Most of all, though, I imagined how that awful, fat cock had felt up my bumhole, and that was what I came over.

  That actually made me feel a lot better. After all, in a sense, I had controlled it. I’d made a sacrifice, yes, my anal virginity, so it was a big one. On the other hand, if I was going to want to come over the experience, then how awful could it have really been? Shameful, yes, degrading, yes, but an orgasm is an orgasm, whatever it takes to get there.

  I’d denied the girls their revenge too, or at least, I’d postponed it, because Dave had stayed with me until they’d gone. That mattered, and I knew that every extra day I managed to avoid them would save me a little more suffering. Inevitably there was the nagging voice at the back of my head telling me the exact opposite, that every day I avoided them would reduce my ultimate pleasure. I ignored it. Sadistic sex play is one thing, revenge another.

  I’d gone so far in among the trees for my frig that I got a bit lost, but by good luck I came out near a pub. I lunched there, and afterwards visited the place Heather had told me about. To my surprise it was a normal saddler, but I was sure I had the right address, and when the wholesome woman in the shop turned out to be Amber Oakley herself, I managed to find the courage to ask for a piggy nose and tail.

  That made me feel a lot better, and I was quickly imagining Heather and I together in the mud, licking and nuzzling at each other’s bodies before being whipped and given a good fucking. That assumed Rupert was around, of course, which I knew he might well not be, or at least not to play piggy-girls. For a while that made me feel sad, but I managed to shrug it off.

  I came back on the last train, and took great care in getting to my house. Nobody was there, but when I checked with the old lady from the downstairs flat, she told me that my bell had gone several times during the day, and that she’d seen several of what she called ‘biker girls’ hanging around outside. Late or not, I was extremely thankful once the door was securely locked behind me.

  All that evening I was in an odd mood, scared, but rebellious too. I put the photo of AJ as a fairy up on my bedroom wall, which was immensely satisfying. True, I’d rather have had Andrea beat her up and made her lick my bum clean afterwards, but the photo was a lot better than nothing. That done, I settled down to reading some of Rupert’s spanking magazines, one-handed, and finally came over a letter from a girl who liked to wear tight leather shorts to take a spanking.

  Monday was easier, with filing work in a city office to keep my mind off things. I was still cautious in the evening, but nobody came. The same was true on Tuesday, and while I didn’t suppose for a moment that they’d given up on me, I began to suspect that nothing would happen until the weekend. Rupert called in the evening, the first chance he’d had without Sarah being there. He was grateful, and sympathetic when I told him what had happened, although I could tell from his voice that it turned him on, and amused him too. Men!

  I also rang Heather, to say that Rupert was ill. We met anyway, on the Wednesday evening, but it wasn’t really a success. For one thing the absence of her uniform, supposedly ruined in the wash, didn’t go down too well, despite the cheque, which was about three times what it was worth. Also, unlike me, she seemed to need a man to be present in order to let herself go, and while we had a nice evening and finished with a kiss and a cuddle, it was hardly what I’d been hoping for.

  By the Thursday evening, nobody had called at my flat for four days. Still, when the bell finally did go I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d told myself I would hide, but it was impossible not to look. So I got down low and peered carefully around one corner of the curtain, expecting to see the three girls standing waiting in the street.

  It wasn’t them, only Zoe, looking up at my windows with a puzzled expression on her face. A great wave of relief washed through me, and I immediately decided to let her in. I needed sympathetic company, and maybe a cuddle, but most of all I was hoping she had news of what was going on. I threw the window open
and called to her. She responded with a cheerful wave and I tossed down the keys, which she caught, then held them up, as if in triumph, looking directly towards where the little porch hid my front door from view. Something was wrong, and as she skipped happily up the path I turned away, my mouth open in shock at what I was sure was her betrayal.

  I was right. Before I could get to my door it was opening, and there was AJ, with others behind her. I was stammering apologies and explanations even as she pushed into my flat, only to shut up as I realised just who was there. AJ was first, but it wasn’t Sam behind her, or Naomi. It was Andrea, all six foot of her, with a truly wicked smile on her face. Zoe followed, grinning impishly, then Naomi and Sam. Last was Mo, her shoulders almost touching the sides of the door frame, a vast and terrifying bulk.

  I sat down, feeling suddenly too weak to stand. AJ went to sit on the sofa, Sam to one side, Naomi to the other. Zoe joined them, on Sam’s lap. Andrea took a place by the window, picking one of Rupert’s magazines up and opening it. Mo shut the door behind her.

  ‘This is cosy, isn’t it?’ AJ remarked, looking around. ‘Very femme, except most of my baby dykes don’t have quite so many spanking magazines.’

  ‘I . . . They’re my uncle’s,’ I stammered, blushing.

  ‘Fair enough,’ she answered, glancing at the cover of a Slap! with a look of both amusement and disgust. ‘We’re not here to discuss your sexuality anyway – well, not entirely. What we do want is a little talk . . .’

  ‘First off,’ Mo interrupted. ‘Where’s my dress uniform?’

  ‘Over there, on the chair,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, Mo, I didn’t mean anything . . .’

  ‘Shut up,’ she spat. ‘It had better not be damaged. Let’s see.’

  She had picked it up, pulling it out from among the others. I couldn’t bear to look. Zoe was the first to realise.

  ‘Hey! That’s my school uniform!’ she protested as the others turned to her. ‘Jade!’

  ‘What is this?’ Andrea demanded. ‘She’s got loads! Look, a nurse’s uniform, and a Girl Guide! Jesus, Jade!’

  ‘A Girl Guide leader!’ I said quickly. ‘She’s grown up, a teacher. Look, I can explain!’

  ‘You’d better,’ AJ said, reaching for the Indian air hostess outfit.

  ‘Out with it!’ Mo demanded.

  ‘It . . . it was just for fun,’ I stammered. ‘Honestly, we didn’t mean any harm . . .’

  ‘We?’ Mo interrupted. ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘My Uncle Rupert and I,’ I said. ‘He had started collecting uniforms, you see, the air hostess one, and an American waitress, and . . . and, well, I just thought it would be fun.’

  ‘So you stole my uniform?’ she demanded. ‘To make a trophy for your uncle?’

  ‘And you weren’t going to give mine back?’ Zoe demanded. ‘You little thief!’

  ‘So that’s why you wanted me to be a real warden!’ Andrea exclaimed. ‘You were out to pinch my kit!’

  ‘No . . . yes . . . I mean, oh, God!’ I babbled. ‘I’m sorry!’

  I put my head in my hands, almost in tears. They were talking at me, all six of them, three calling me a thief, the others joining in with their own grievances. Finally AJ’s voice cut through the others.

  ‘Looks like you’re busted, Jade,’ she said. ‘Well and truly busted.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated, my voice no more than a feeble whisper. ‘Take the uniforms back. I’ll make sure the others get returned, I promise.’

  ‘You reckon that’s good enough, do you?’ Mo demanded.

  ‘No,’ I admitted weakly.

  ‘It’s not, is it, Jade?’ AJ said. ‘So where do you reckon you get off?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘Are you going to punish me?’

  ‘We are,’ Sam assured me. ‘We owe you from the other night, big time.’

  Andrea nodded.

  ‘Is that all right with you, Mo?’ AJ asked. ‘You get your property back and we all give her a good slapping?’

  ‘Fine by me,’ Mo answered. ‘That’s fair, if she’s going to take it. I can hardly have her charged, can I? She’d blab. The army don’t approve of pissing on sluts, which is what I did to her.’

  ‘She’ll take it,’ AJ laughed. ‘Won’t you, Jade?’

  I just hung my head, not willing to give them permission, but unable to refuse it.

  ‘See?’ AJ went on. ‘She knows she deserves it. Right, Dumplings, strip!’

  I stood, my trembling fingers going straight to the buttons of my work blouse. Refusal was pointless, and would mean being stripped by force, my work suit ruined. They sat back, watching, every one of them thoroughly enjoying my fear and misery. My blouse came off, and my skirt, my shoes and tights, to leave me in my underwear. I never even paused, knowing full well that I wasn’t going to be allowed a scrap of modesty. My bra came off, my panties last, leaving me stark naked and very vulnerable, standing with one arm over my pussy and the other across my tits.

  ‘You’re not hiding much, Jade,’ Naomi joked, ‘not with those tits.’

  ‘What are you going to do to her?’ Zoe asked.

  ‘Whatever takes our fancy,’ AJ answered. ‘For one I think she ought to lick us, just to get her in her place.’

  ‘Okay,’ Zoe answered. ‘You . . . you’re not really going to hurt her, are you?’

  ‘Oh, she’ll recover,’ AJ said. ‘She’s tough. So, Jade, time to lick, all six of us. Get in the bedroom.’

  I went, scared and uncertain, but grateful that I’d at least be allowed to get horny before they laid into me. In my room I sat on the bed, wondering if the way I felt was at all like how a prostitute must feel, with a line of men waiting to have her, and no choice over who she takes. Actually it wasn’t, because I’d have gladly gone down to any one of the girls outside. I managed a little grin for myself, only for it to fade as I remembered what Andrea liked to do to girls, and Mo, and AJ, and . . .

  ‘Naomi, see what’s in her fridge,’ AJ called from outside. ‘Crack me a beer if she’s got one.’

  They’d taken over my flat, completely, leaving me as just the sex toy in the bedroom, like a vibrator, to be used as they pleased. I swallowed at the thought, then lifted my eyes as Mo came into the room. I’d thought AJ would be first, but nobody was going to argue with Mo. She pushed the door to behind her, her hand already at the button of her green fatigues. Outside I heard the pop of bottle tops and Andrea’s laughter, as I got down on my knees.

  They took turns with me, all six of them, one by one, coming under my tongue, the way they wanted. Mo just sat, spread-legged on my bed as I knelt in front of her. She never said a word, and came really quickly, full in my face. Andrea came next, ordering me to the floor, where I was given a few good kicks before she pulled up her skirt to sit on my face. I was made to do it forwards, looking up at her as I lapped at her pussy, with her grinning cruelly down at me. Sam followed, and gave me the same treatment, only the other way around, with my nose up her bumhole as I licked her pussy.

  By the time she’d finished with me my face was smeared with pussy juice and I was dizzy with the smell of sex. Naomi made it worse, making me do it kneeling, with her bottom in my face, so that I had to lick her bumhole before getting down to work on her pussy. It was she who noticed my brand new snout and tail as well, after she’d had me. She made me put them on, turning me into a pig, which made Zoe giggle when she came for her go. Zoe was sweet, and actually spoke nicely to me, but she made me do it anyway, sat on my face as I lay on the bed, and squirming her bum and pussy into my mouth, to make me lick as she brought herself off against my nose.

  That left AJ. She gave a snort of laughter as she came in, smiling at the state I was in and at how I looked.

  ‘A pig!’ she said. ‘Suits you, Jade. Girl, you do look ridiculous!’

  I’d forgotten all about the photo, but her remark about looking ridiculous reminded me. Inevitably I glanced at it, which was a really stupid thing to do, as otherwise I’m not
sure she’d even have noticed. As it was she did, glancing at it herself, then back, her mouth falling open as she did her double-take.

  ‘You fucking bitch!’ she spat, and snatched at it, pulling it from the wall. ‘You’ve fucking had it, you little . . .’

  She’d stuck it down her top, and she lashed out, catching me full across the face. I screamed and rolled back on the bed, my hands coming up to protect myself as she scrambled on top of me. She straddled me, her knees planted across my stomach. Her hand grappled for my wrists, catching on, wrenching and twisting to grab the other. My arms were hauled up, above my head, exposing my face. She lashed out again, in my face, scratching me, then across my boobs, and again, backhanded, leaving them stinging hot, with two long red trails across the white flesh where her nails had caught me.

  ‘You fucking . . .’ she spat, pulling her fist back, and stopped, turning as the door swung open behind her.

  ‘Hey, leave some for us!’ Andrea laughed.

  AJ blew her breath out, glaring down at me.

  ‘Hang on,’ she said.

  Her hands went to her jeans, popping the button. She turned, pushing them down, to take her panties with them, and to leave her naked bottom stuck out, right in my face, her cheeks spread to show the little dirty hole between them. I caught her scent a moment before she settled it in my face, spreading her cheeks over my mouth. I kissed her bumhole, desperate to make up, tasted the bitter tang and started to lick.

  She said nothing, waiting until I’d cleaned her thoroughly before easing herself back to press her pussy to my face. Andrea was still watching, and I knew she could see my tongue working in the pink folds of AJ’s sex. Not that AJ seemed to mind, hissing between her teeth in anger as she ground her bottom into my face, to push my pig’s nose up into the saliva wet cavity of her bumhole. I could barely breathe, smothered in bottom, with the acrid tang thick in my mouth and nose, blending with the girlish, hormonal taste of pussy.

  AJ came, or I think she did, with no more than a sharp hiss as her muscles locked in my face. She climbed off, my pig’s nose pulling from her anus with a sticky pop, to leave it full of fluid. As her bottom left my face I found not just Andrea but Naomi and Sam watching, delighted at both my appearance and my discomfort. Mo was behind them, and in her hand she held AJ’s heavy tawse. I swallowed hard as AJ climbed off the bed.