The Indulgences of Isabelle

by Penny Birch

  In the morning he had the opposite problem, waking up with a rock-hard erection, so that I was able to toss him off before he even realised what I was doing in order to escape the fucking he so badly wanted to give me. After that I left, which I had every right to do, and I was feeling distinctly pleased with myself as I cycled back towards the city. I had even managed to persuade Walter not to show the dirtier photos to Eliza, on the grounds that it wasn't my fault if his cock wouldn't behave the way he wanted it to. That meant the ones of me sucking, another he'd taken as I sat on his belly trying to bring him erect, and the close-up of my pussy and bumhole.

  All in all, I felt I'd got away with it, or least with more than I'd expected to since I had been genuinely prepared to let him use me as he wanted. Nevertheless, I was going to have the photos of me in the nude shown round among the girls, and I still had my punishment from Eliza to come. She would not be so easy to manipulate, nor would she fail to do justice to the situation, that I could be sure of. Despite what I felt was a triumph with Walter, my entire carefully constructed wall of dominance was in danger of collapse.

  I was determined that it wouldn't, and a very important part of maintaining it was my need not to be the only dominant woman brought low during the Rattaners evening. The game I had invented but never had a chance to put forward seemed an excellent way to make sure of that, and I worked on it during the week, along with two evenings spent practising at darts with Yazzie, Jasmine and Caroline. I seemed to have something of a knack for it, and managed to beat all three of them, both at darts and as my reward for victory. Yazzie was keen for me to come up and play at the Red Ox again, but I was feeling much too fragile to dare go near the place and so I turned her down.

  The Owl had usually turned up at St George's at least twice a week, but she didn't put in an appearance at all, making me wonder if our little spanking escapade had scared her off, or if something had happened to break the agreement she had with Tierney. Either way, I knew that I would have to assume that Tierney and his friends knew about the forthcoming Rattaners meeting, and that they would be able to work out the date and the venue. Having them attempt to gatecrash the party didn't bear thinking about. Dr Treadle thoroughly enjoyed our company, but he was also a respectable academic in normal life and no doubt there were limits to what he was prepared to put up with. At the very least it would be highly embarrassing to have them hanging about in the road, and inevitably it would be me who got the blame. I would be severely punished and, worse, would probably be forced to resign as President, while we would surely lose the only good venue we had.

  After all the trouble I'd been to in order to establish the society, that was unthinkable. I needed to be very sure that Tierney wouldn't turn up at Dr Treadle's, and the more I thought about it the more convinced I became that the only feasible course of action was to forestall him. Unfortunately I knew very well what that would mean. I had no money to bribe him, and I was in no position to threaten him, but I could offer him sex with Caroline. Even then he might not necessarily accept, when the choice was between a quickie with her and the chance of making a thorough pig of himself with all the submissive Rattaners girls.

  I put it off all week, telling myself that it wasn't really necessary, that it was just too inappropriate to be considered, anything to delay the inevitable and because when it came down to it I knew that I could take a cock in my mouth or up my pussy if I really had to, whatever the circumstances and without hurting anything other than my pride. Really, there was only one major drawback, which was that it was clearly immoral of me to expect Caroline to do it when it was my responsibility. One of the many things that Eliza had taught me was that a dominant should never abuse her power, and even though I knew Caroline would go through with it I would be doing exactly that.

  By Wednesday I had accepted that I'd have to do it myself, or at least promise to. I hate being dishonest, but Tierney had lied to me and tricked me so many times that in his case I decided to make an exception. Also, the thought of really doing it excited that part of my nature I'd been trying so hard to suppress. I was scared of how I might react, which made lying a great deal easier. Either way, I was absolutely determined that neither Katie nor the other Rattaners girls would find out.

  That meant holding a private conversation with Tierney, which was easy. He always seemed to be lurking around, and I managed to catch him as he finished work on the Friday following my punishment from Walter. I didn't want to be seen with him, and I definitely didn't want him in my room where he could start making extra demands. So I did as before, waiting for him to leave and then cycling behind him at a discreet distance, only this time I waited until we were past the Picture Palace. Then I sped up, overtaking him and stopping my bike in his path.

  'Isa?' he demanded, surprised. 'What are you doing?'

  'We need to talk,' I told him.

  'Oh yeah?' he answered suspiciously.

  'Don't bother with any of your lies, Tierney,' I told him. 'I have a pretty good idea what's been going on.'

  He shrugged.

  'It's not going to work,' I continued. 'You won't be let in, and that's that, but I know what you're like, and that you'll try and spoil it for us if you can't get what you want, so I'm prepared to make an offer.'

  'Oh yeah?' he said again, this time perking up.

  'If you promise to leave us alone,' I said, 'I'm . . . I'm prepared to do the sort of thing you like – but not until after the meeting.'

  Tierney applied one grubby fingernail to his nose and gave it a meditative scratch before replying.

  'After every meeting, is that?'

  'I suppose so,' I told him.

  'Sounds good,' he answered, with what I felt was suspicious alacrity. 'How about that Katie?'

  'Just me,' I insisted. 'I don't even want Katie to know about it, or any of my other friends.'

  He nodded as I realised I'd just made a very foolish statement, placing myself more firmly in his clutches. Again he took a moment to consider before he spoke again.

  'All right. Makes sense.'

  I felt my stomach go tight.

  'What will you want?' I sighed.

  'Blow jobs,' Tierney answered without the slightest hint of embarrassment for his outrageous demand. 'Blow jobs, and we need you to play in the darts team next Saturday, against the Boar in Bicester. Little Yazzie says you're really good.'

  It was the most bizarre combination of demands I'd ever heard, but coming from him it didn't really surprise me. Sex and the more sedentary sports both figured largely in his daily life, along with watching football and drinking lager. I couldn't help but feel grateful too, because I'd expected him to demand a lot more, and perhaps want to include other men if they'd been involved in his snooping. So it seemed that he'd been working alone, and now he had probably got what he'd been angling for all along. He was a fairly primitive creature, and for him having his cock sucked represented the peak of sexual pleasure. I was now going to be the one doing the sucking, or so he thought, and with luck that would be enough to keep him away from the Rattaners meeting.

  * * *

  I still wasn't sure that I could trust Tierney, and the prospect of my punishment wasn't the only thing that made me grow gradually more nervous during the course of Saturday. He was capable of just about anything, and I knew from bitter experience just how much pleasure he took in using me.

  By Saturday evening I was such a state that I could think of nothing else, with every aspect of my predicament going round and round in my head: what Eliza would do to me, Sarah's cool amusement, the other girls' giggles or sympathy, which would be equally shaming for me, and the men's lust, which I was likely to have to satisfy. Then there was Tierney, overshadowing it all, so that although I knew Eliza would never permit it I was imagining him turning up in the middle of my punishment and demanding to have his cock sucked in front of everyone, or to takeme upstairs for a fucking, or to sodomise me over Dr Treadle's tea table.

  I cycled out to J
asmine and Caroline's house as before, but this time with Katie along to make sure I got her moral support right from the start. Yazzie was also there and greeted me respectfully, while Caroline gave me a hug and a kiss. Jasmine did the same, but there was something more than a little smug in her manner, and she insisted that I come upstairs with her immediately.

  'Eliza says you're to dress in this,' she said, pushing open the door to their room.

  I didn't even try to argue, but stared glumly as the costume laid out on her bed. It was embarrassingly familiar, my old Line Ladies outfit, which Eliza had frequently made me wear while I was in training, especially for spankings. Not only was it possibly the most ridiculous creation I'd ever put on – or, perhaps, 'been put in' would be more accurate – but it brought back some excruciatingly humiliating memories.

  The least offensive item was the jeans, white flares with tassels down the outside of each leg and each back pocket done as the Stars and Stripes. The flag motif was repeated with the blouse, which was well tailored but actually appeared to have been made from a US flag. The boots were the same, vertical red and white stripes and the toes and the big square heels blue with added white stars. The hat was similar, the brim red and white stripes, the crown blue and with white stars. The little blue denim waistcoat was not the same, fortunately, just a flag on the single breast pocket, although it did have tassels and little metal horseshoes sewn on. The chaps were also plain, at least in their colour, but elaborately tooled and fringed, while the belt was a great heavy thing ideal for taking to girls' bottoms, buckled with a six-inch-wide boss showing yet another US flag. There were also nylon Stars and Stripes panties and a pair of short white socks with frilly tops. A similar outfit lay next to it, Katie's – although she really had brought hers for line dancing: it made her feel attractive, if also submissive.

  'I might have known,' I managed to mutter.

  'And I,' Jasmine said, 'am taking your place.'

  She turned on her heel and strode from the room, well pleased with herself.

  'Who's the one with a slave mark tattooed on her bottom?' I called after her.

  'You'll pay for that,' Jasmine promised as she started down the stairs. 'Now hurry into your costume, or you'll come to Eliza with your bottom already pink.'

  I didn't bother to answer but began to undress. There was a huge lump in my throat, and as I stripped I was thinking of how I'd have reacted if Jasmine had made the same threat just a week before. I'd have caned her, or had her spanked by Portia, which would probably have been the best way to humiliate her. Now I simply felt sulky and resentful.

  Naked, I went into the bathroom to wash, paying particular attention to my bottom as there was no chance whatsoever that I would get through the evening without my anus being given an airing. I even put a little dab of cream on one finger and slipped it up my rectum to make sure that I was properly clean inside – just in case. Inevitably that was the moment when Caroline chose to come in, giggling when she saw what I was doing.

  'You know what Eliza's like,' I said, blushing.

  Caroline just laughed and carried on with her business, watching as I took my finger out of my bottom-hole and washed my hands. I wondered if I ought to lubricate myself properly, but decided that it would be tempting fate. If they wanted to stick things up my bottom they could get me ready themselves, while I had no doubt at all that Eliza would bring everything she needed to take care of me properly.

  Back in Jasmine and Caroline's bedroom I began to dress up in my Line Ladies outfit, feeling sillier and less self-confident with every single article of clothing I put on. I'd been told I looked pretty in it, sexy too, even dominant, but I'd never felt anything except ridiculous when I was wearing it. There was no bra either, so I left myself bare under my blouse, determined not to give Eliza any further excuses for punishing me. I also pulled my hair back in a ponytail the way she liked, even though I felt it added a peculiarly pathetic touch to my look. Katie had come up while I was changing, and must have seen the expression on my face as I considered my reflection in the wardrobe mirror.

  'You actually look very nice, Isabelle, and I'll be dressed the same.'

  'You're not going to be punished in front of everybody.'

  'I'm sure to be punished.'

  'That's hardly the same thing, is it? Sorry, Katie, I don't mean to be cross, but the situation with the Owl isn't really my fault, is it?'

  She gave me a look with which I was all too familiar, when she knew I was wrong but didn't want to argue. I went downstairs, where the others were gathered in the kitchen. Jasmine had gone for black, and a slightly androgynous look, with leather trousers, boots and a black leather waistcoat. Caroline had chosen to go for an army look: minuscule khaki shorts and a khaki halter top that barely restrained her huge breasts. Yazzie was dressed as before, in a simple black sheath but carrying several hanks of coloured rope.

  My feelings as we drove towards Wytham were very different from those I'd had before the first meeting, and stronger. In place of the sense of controlled excitement I'd had then I was near to panic, with my tummy fluttering and my pussy warm and open despite my best efforts at holding down my arousal. I knew how I should react, taking my punishment with a dignified acceptance, but they were going to see how wet I was. They'd know I was turned on, and that was the most shameful thing of all.

  We were the last to arrive at Dr Treadle's. Everybody else was already in his living room, drinking and chatting casually about this and that as if it barely mattered that I was about to be put through my paces in front of them. The men were in black tie, Sarah, Portia and Tiffany in their riding gear, while Eliza was dressed in tweed. She alone bothered to do more than nod to me.

  'Ah, Isabelle – and about time, too. We were beginning to wonder if you had decided that you couldn't face the evening.'

  'No,' I answered.

  'She's ready,' Jasmine said, and smacked the taut white seat of my jeans as she passed me. 'She's didn't even make all that much of a fuss.'

  'Good,' Eliza responded. 'Do have a glass of wine, Isabelle.'

  She was standing at the sideboard, and poured out a large glass from a bottle that was resting in an ice bucket. I took hold and drank it gratefully, my fingers trembling against the glass. Eliza went to sit down, watching me coolly. Walter Jessop was next to her, and gave me a cruel little smile. Only then did I realise that Dr Treadle had set up a computer to one side, and that the picture on the screen was of me holding my Victorian chemise open to display my bare breasts. A moment later it changed, to another from the same series, this one with my drawers held wide to show off my bottom and the rear view of my pussy.

  I watched with horrified fascination as the slide show continued, waiting in dread for the ones that showed me sucking on Walter's balls and about to have my mouth spunked in. They never came, just my little display routine. Walter at least had kept his word.

  'The pictures will continue to alternate for the evening,' Eliza remarked. 'Or at least for most of the evening, until you are suitably chastened. Now, drink up and come over here.'

  My obedience was automatic. I swallowed the rest of my wine and stepped over to a clear area at the centre of the room. Eliza was smiling at me.

  'First,' she said. 'Do you agree that you deserve this punishment?'

  'Yes,' I said, although it took an effort to get the word out.

  'Yes, you do,' she responded. 'It was your decision to book the Latimer Room, and to do so under the name of a non-existent society. Fortunately your friend Amy Jane either didn't realise what was going on, or is too well mannered to say anything – otherwise we might have been in serious difficulty.'

  I hung my head, trying not to think of the consequences if the Owl had run screaming through the Bodleian denouncing us as a group of lesbian perverts. Eliza was right: I had made a serious error of judgement, and had dismissed alternative suggestions. I was also the one who'd allowed what was supposed to be a straightforward meeting to include punishmen
t spankings.

  'You also insisted on Portia being spanked in the Latimer Room instead of at our first party,' Eliza went on as if reading my mind.

  'None of you seemed to mind,' I mumbled.

  'I beg your pardon?' she demanded.

  'I said, none of you seemed to mind,' I repeated, with my resentment at last rising above my feelings of shame and contrition.

  'We had your assurance that it would be safe,' Eliza went on. 'We trusted you, Isabelle, and while I admit that we were perhaps a little too keen to have a punishment after the long summer break the responsibility must lie with you. This is, after all, your society.'

  I returned a glum nod, although I couldn't shake the feeling that they were being unfair.

  'Besides,' Eliza continued, no longer stern, 'I think we all know that, just as Portia thoroughly enjoyed her punishment, so you will enjoy yours. Won't you?'

  'But I'm domin—' I began. Then I shut up.

  Eliza's response was first a knowing smile, then a nod to Portia and Tiffany who were seated on chairs beside a bank of expensive-looking equipment that included a CD player and a camera.

  'First,' Eliza stated, 'you will dance for us. Katie?'

  As Katie stepped forward I realised that I hadn't been made to dress in my ridiculous outfit simply to humiliate me. They all knew how embarrassing I found the whole thing, and what had happened with the Line Ladies, so to make me dance was genuinely cruel. So was the awful music that Portia and Tiffany put on, some ghastly song sung in a Southern drawl with instructions for actions such as jumping up and down on my toes to make my boobs bounce, waggling my bottom and smacking each bum cheek in turn.

  Katie had begun to dance, but I couldn't, at least not until I saw the look of amused contempt on Sarah's face. She was soaking up my discomfort, and the bigger a fuss I made the more she would enjoy it. I began to dance, trying to follow the sequence of utterly ludicrous and thoroughly lewd motions that Katie was going through. She didn't mind, but she liked to display her body, for all her shyness, and didn't even seem to object to the awful music. I was no good at this type of dancing either, and knew full well that I looked more silly than sexy, for all the lust in the men's eyes, so that by the time the music came to an end I was on the edge of tears.