SMARTS!

by Jay Lawrence

  "Be my guest. Fully dressed or on the bare?"

  Susan's heart lurched. Did he intend to make a public exhibition of her, like he did with some of the audience members at his show? He could make them dance or sing or even eat an onion, imagining it to be a delicious crisp apple. Horrified, she watched the fat man's lips form the dreaded words, 'on the bare'. Jack still stood with his arms around the blonde's waist. The girl was laughing hard, her breasts jiggling like twin mounds of pale pink blancmange.

  "You could do her on the sofa in the blue room, Teddy!"

  The gentleman raised one silvery eyebrow.

  "What an excellent idea, Jane. Come along my dear. Someone has been a very naughty little girl. Hasn't she?"

  Susan felt her free hand clasped by a much larger, hot and moist one. Neatly, the blonde took the glass of Champagne from her and she allowed herself to be led into one of the rooms which opened off the hall, an elegant drawing room with blazing logs in the grate of the tall marble fireplace. There was a tiger skin rug on the floor before the fire and on that rug a tiny redhead squirmed, fully naked but for a string of pearls. Two men in evening clothes stood over her, apparently discussing who would do what to the girl. They would have her separately and perhaps together. The redhead opened her slender creamy thighs seductively, tracing the downy contours of her private parts with a languid fingertip, as if showing her wares. Susan felt as if she were part of a strange and lurid dream. She felt a surge of panic about what Jack might be doing with the busty blonde. Had he already lost interest in his new acquisition? She had felt so important, as if she was the very center of his world, but he saw fit to offer her to a stranger. And a rather ugly one at that...

  "Now then, my dear. Tell Uncle Ted how you have sinned."

  The gentleman had settled himself on a blue velvet sofa. Susan could see her reflection in a gilt-framed mirror on the wall behind him. She looked vacant, perhaps a little confused, but stunningly lovely, her lips bright red in a pale oval face. Her gaze dropped to 'Uncle Ted' and his fat pin-striped thighs. He was enjoying himself immensely. Susan noticed that he wheezed faintly when he breathed and more so when he spoke.

  "So. Have you been a bad girl this week?"

  Susan hesitated, realizing she'd look foolish if she didn't try to play the game. Finally, she found a reply.

  "Yes, sir. I ran away from home."

  Uncle Ted grinned and winked.

  "Aha! The naughty girls' home, I'll bet! Was Matron cruel to you, eh? Did the old girl take a paddle to your bare behind?"

  Susan smiled politely and looked at her feet.

  "I thought so, you little minx. Lift up your skirt and get over my knees. Uncle Ted is going to show you what a real bare bottom spanking is all about."

  Carefully, the young woman did as she was instructed, raising her lovely dress and lying down on the old man's lap. She could feel a firm bulge in the front of his trousers and he smelled strongly of cigar smoke. His large hand caressed the silky space at the top of her thighs, where her stockings finished and before her satin girdle began.

  "Naughty girl," murmured Uncle Ted, as if repeating a familiar rhyme, "let's get those knickers off sharpish."

  Helplessly, Susan remembered the struggle she'd had to get into the beautiful girdle. The man would never be able to pull them down as she lay across his knees. To her surprise, she found herself trying to assist him, by turning her hips this way and that, but to no avail.

  "Well then, Miss Tight! Not quite on the bare, so twice as hard!"

  Uncle Ted grasped the waistband of the girdle in one hand and pulled it up with all his strength so the fine cloth formed into a thin hard band between Susan's legs. She could feel it pushing itself into her moist cleft like a little length of rope, pressing against the little button of flesh. She could feel her buttocks being partially exposed as the satin garment rode up over her hips. There was a soft sound of ripping threads.

  "Naughty girl. Trying to thwart old Uncle Ted."

  "Oh!"

  His hand came down sharply on the tender under-shelf of her buttocks, making her bottom ripple with the impact. Already, it was a familiar sensation, a feeling she seemed to both anticipate and dread in equal measure. Susan closed her eyes and tried to pretend that it was Jack who spanked her, not the ugly old man who smelled so pungently of tobacco. There were voices around her, coming and going, all talking casually, as if a young lady being chastised on the sofa were the most common thing in the world. Smack, smack, smack went Uncle Ted's heavy palm against the slippery half-satin half-flesh curves of her bottom. She began to wriggle involuntarily, like a fish out of water, grinding her hips and thrusting her bottom towards his spanking hand. She was beginning to get that delicious sensation again, deep within the dewy place between her thighs. Susan thought that she could learn to exist just for that feeling alone. Her bottom was becoming hot. It tingled. Uncle Ted was beginning to grunt with effort.

  "Mm, mm, mm..."

  The young woman began to moan softly, issuing strange vaguely animalistic sounds. Her private parts were slick with wetness; she could feel the tight satin clinging to her cleft as, desperate for release, she rubbed her pubic mound rhythmically against the old man's knees.

  "Oh, please! Oh, yes!"

  Crying out in ecstasy, Susan orgasmed violently as Uncle Ted collapsed against the back of the sofa, seemingly grunting his own release. Her semi-exposed bottom felt very hot, as if she had been standing too close to the fire. It was a different heat to the cutting sharpness of the strap Jack had used to whip her, but she liked it too. She liked all of it, much to her chagrin.

  "What a good girl you are."

  The old man placed his hand on the small of her back and she shuddered. Her whole body felt electrified, as if the slightest touch could send her over the edge again. But where was Jack? She raised her head from the velvet cushions and scanned the room. The redhead and her two clients had disappeared. Various men sat or stood about the drawing room, sipping drinks and joking with the prostitutes who trawled amongst them, flirting and chatting and pressing their nude or scantily clad bodies against the men's fully clothed ones. Susan saw the girl called Lucy beckon to her from the doorway. Slowly, she clambered off Uncle Ted's lap. He looked as if he might drop off for a nap, his eyes half-closed and a satisfied smile on his lips.

  "You're to come upstairs with me now."

  Lucy took Susan's arm, with a hint of aggression that made the young woman want to draw back. Together, they climbed the thickly carpeted stairs to the upper floor. The heavy, cloying scent of exotic musk-based perfume intensified as they reached a corridor that was dimly lit with scarlet shaded wall lights. Squeals and giggles issued from behind a succession of closed doors. Lucy smiled encouragingly at Susan as they reached the last door in the row. Slowly, like an actress setting the scene, she opened the door to reveal a vast four poster bed with red and gold silk drapes. On the bed, amidst a mass of fat satin pillows, lay the buxom blonde. She was fully naked but for her silver high-heeled sandals and dangling glittering earrings. Susan couldn't move. Where was Jack?

  "Come on, darling."

  Lucy took Susan's hand and drew her towards the bed like some erotic Pied Piper. The young woman watched the brunette's little bottom squirming beneath the flighty tails of the chiffon scarf she wore as a kind of miniature toga. Lucy clambered up onto the bed and gestured to Susan to follow suit.

  "We don't bite, sweetie. Not that you'd mind if we did."

  There was a harsh mocking undertone in the blonde's voice and Susan wanted to run. She remained transfixed, her back towards the bedroom door, watching the two girls on the bed. The blonde continued.

  "If you won't come and play, Jack says we're to tie you up and give you to Uncle Ted for a Christmas gift."

  She laughed, her huge breasts wobbling with merriment. Lucy knelt behind her and began to play with Jane's big swollen nipples, tickling them with the very tips of her fingers.

  "Come on, girl! Who
wouldn't want to get their hands on these?"

  Slowly, Susan approached the bed. She remembered how she had felt when Jack played with the blonde's breasts. Possessive, envious but also aroused and interested. She placed her hands on the smooth turned mahogany of one of the bedposts, recalling the whipping of the previous night. She wondered what kind of punishment disobedience would bring her and her stomach turned over. Jack had referred to her as his possession. At once, she felt frightened and pleased and proud, a strange confusing heady blend of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. In her heart of hearts, she realized that she desperately wanted to do what Jack told her to.

  "There's a good girl."

  Lucy stretched out a hand to help Susan climb onto the tall bed. Jane lay on the satin pillows like a gorgeous white cat stretched out in the sun. Her hair spilled in big golden curls over her ivory shoulders and her crimson lips were parted slightly, the very tip of her tongue just visible. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself, not just going through the motions. Lucy stopped playing with Jane's breasts and leaned forward to stroke Susan's neck.

  "What a lovely girl you are. Don't worry, darling. We won't hurt you. Just relax and have fun. Would you like another drink?"

  Susan shook her head, unable to reply. Lucy's fingers were silky smooth and slightly cool against her own warm flesh. She began to feel quite calm, to allow herself to slip into the place she preferred to resistance, the trance state of submission.

  "You're going to love this, angel."

  The silky fingers continued to trace a delicate pattern on Susan's throat and neck, before sweeping down to include her chest and cleavage. After a minute or two, she found herself pressing her breasts towards Lucy's hands, but the young girl always avoided the really intimate area over her nipples, skirting around them in a gently teasing way. Susan could feel her nipples pushing against the delicate fabric of her brassiere, as if they couldn't bear to be confined. After what seemed like an eternity of sensual torment, Lucy's deft fingers delved beneath Susan's bodice and unfastened the hook and eye closure behind her back.

  "Now, let's see..."

  She allowed herself to be gently pushed down onto the nest of pillows with Jane. Almost reverently, Lucy exposed Susan's little breasts, kissing each nipple as softly as drawing a feather over each hard pert bud. Again, Susan felt the moisture start to stain her panties. This was different again from the other times. They lay on either side of her, Lucy and Jane, as if they were the slices of bread in a sandwich and she the filling. She closed her eyes and moaned as they each took a nipple into their hot wet mouths. There couldn't be anything better than this. She could feel her long-repressed body relax and open like a flower on a warm summer's day. Their tongues moistened her nipples, flicked at them like buzzing insects, then danced off to swirl a path of luscious pleasure about the outer contours of her breasts. A kind of pulse began to beat between Susan's legs. She was soaked as if she was a little girl who had wet her panties. She felt swollen down below, swollen and still hot from the spanking. Every part of her bottom, from downy mound to juicy oozing cleft to warm reddened buttocks felt intensely wonderful. So wonderful that she felt as if she could hardly endure it, yet she knew that Jane and Lucy had barely begun their ministrations. Her hands fluttered impotently upon the silk pillows and Lucy caught them, then gently raised Susan's arms above her head so she lay in an attitude of abandoned surrender.

  "Get that dress off–"

  Jane murmured the command as if she were keeping to some prearranged plan. Idly, Susan wondered if Jack had left strict and exact instructions for the girls to follow. She felt warm at that thought, that he cared enough to create such a polished tableau of sensuality. Something gossamer soft was wrapped about her wrists, then pulled tight. Startled, she realized that Lucy had bound her hands together with a chiffon scarf and was in the process of attaching the loose end to the headboard of the bed. The familiar fear/pleasure sensation seeded in her stomach as she felt the girls undress her, easing off the beautiful scarlet gown which had made her feel like Marilyn Monroe. Now she lay in her girdle, stockings and shoes, completely naked from the waist up. Susan looked at her bare breasts. They didn't look so tiny, really, and they had a rather pert upward tilt, with pointed nipples that might even look quite sexy. The young woman enjoyed the feel of the warm and scented bedroom air upon her skin. Again, Jane and Lucy began to attend to her, this time to the smooth inches of skin between Susan's girdle and her stocking tops. Both girls lay on their front and imprinted a myriad of tiny butterfly kisses upon the glistening band of flesh. Soon, Susan began to squirm and to press her mound towards their caressing mouths but, as with Lucy's overture to her breasts, they made a point of teasing and avoiding the sacred spot. After endless delicious torment, the whisper-soft kisses segued into wet tongue play, as the girls licked swirling patterns on the inside planes of Susan's thighs. Sometimes they would reach the tight satin bands where the girdle met thigh and Susan would jolt, as if electrified. Several times she thought she would orgasm, but Jane and Lucy seemed adept at taking her to the brink then easing off, each time bringing her closer to a more intense level of ecstasy. Finally, when the young woman felt like begging for mercy, Jane murmured "Get her knickers off" and they struggled to remove Susan's girdle. When they had succeeded, they examined her private parts, bending over her Mound of Venus, so close that she could feel the warmth and moisture of their breath bathing her pulsing cleft.

  "What a lovely juicy cunt for a virgin!"

  Susan flinched at the coarse word. Now, she was naked but for her stockings and high-heeled shoes. The little metal caps on the stilettos kept catching on the silk bedspread as she moved her feet, trying to bring her legs together.

  "No you don't, my dear!"

  Strong hands captured each ankle and then pulled open Susan's legs, so she lay on her back with her privates fully exposed.

  "She's ready for you, Jack!"

  A door opened and the hypnotist appeared, wearing a robe. The last thing Susan saw was the dragon embroidered on its heavy green silk, then the room grew dark. One of the girls had blindfolded her. The scent of musk perfume intensified with the loss of vision. The young woman could sense nothing but visceral, animal smells – the scent of female arousal, of warm, moist skin beaded with a sheen of perspiration, the miasma of desire. They were holding her legs now, the girls. She could feel them kneeling on either side of her, clasping her ankles, keeping her privates wide open for Jack.

  "Fuck her, Jack. It's ages since I seen a virgin deflowered."

  In the heat of the moment, Jane's voice reverted to its gutter roots. Susan began to tremble like a leaf. She wanted to feel the hypnotist's body deep inside her own. She knew she would have given herself to him, quite willingly. She had no need to be taken, to be raped, forcibly held open as if she saw the act as a violation.

  "Beg, April."

  Susan's lips formed the word 'please' but barely a sound issued, such was the lump in her throat. Hot tears prickled beneath her blindfolded eyelids.

  "Beg for it or I'll fuck Jane instead and make you watch."

  Susan gulped and tried to speak. Her voice was like a soft wind rustling dry autumn leaves.

  "Please, Jack. Please..."

  "Please, what, April?"

  "Please do it to me."

  Amusement entered the hypnotist's voice. She could sense him standing by the bed, in the green silk dragon robe, watching her expressions like a hawk.

  "Do what, April?"

  The young woman flushed with misery, rising blood staining the whiteness of her throat and chest.

  "Love me."

  Jane sniggered. Susan's heart fell.

  "Do you want me to fuck you, April?"

  The response was barely audible.

  "Yes, Jack."

  "Then beg for it, my dear. I assure you this is for your benefit, not mine. My interests lie in quite another department."

  The young woman could sense a mild irritation
enter the hypnotist's voice. She couldn't let him down. She mustn't. Swallowing hard, she gasped, "Please fuck me."

  There was the faint sound of rustling silk falling to the floor followed by the depression of the bed as Jack climbed on top of her. She could smell his skin and feel the little hairs on his body. He kissed her neck and she arched her spine, groaning softly, pushing her hips towards him. He whispered something so softly that she could not quite make it out but it sounded like 'I love you". Then he forced himself inside her wet, wide open cleft and she screamed, more in pleasure than in pain, as his few sharp hard thrusts carved his dominion over her into her soul.

  * * * *

  When Susan awakened the following morning, she found herself alone in bed at the hypnotist's house. Fumbling towards mental clarity, she recalled the events at the brothel in St. John's Wood. Wild images formed a garish procession through her mind, like an erotic carnival parade. Jack had taken her virginity so swiftly and cruelly, entering her body then withdrawing from it with such alacrity that the young woman sensed that 'normal' sex was truly not his pleasure. Afterwards, when she lay sobbing quietly in confusion, he had taken the leather strap and whipped her over her breasts and private parts. The front of her body was much more tender than the back and she had begged for mercy, wriggling and writhing, her hands still tightly bound with the chiffon scarf. The lash felt like a hundred hornet stings. However, the more she squirmed in supplication, the harder the hypnotist chastised her, as if her distress only inflamed his desire. When he had finished, Jane had crouched between her open thighs and sucked on her scarlet mound as if it was a firm ripe peach. Within a few seconds, Susan had orgasmed so powerfully, she thought she might die. Finally, Jack had masturbated over her face, coating her eyes and lips with daubs of creamy semen.

  Shivering at the memory of being used like a whore, Susan eased herself out of bed. She felt faintly stiff and sore and, glancing down at her body, she looked at the pattern of purple bruising which marked where Jack had whipped her. He must have treated her more roughly than the night before. Where would it end, she wondered, if his urge for such violent lust increased night by night? She recalled the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Jack was such a quiet, softly spoken man by day. Who would ever imagine what he got up to at night? Yet she trusted him. Some deep primeval part of her responded and understood his loving brutality. Beyond that – she desired it herself. She also suspected that it was a kind of drug, and that once hooked, she'd be addicted for life.