‘There,’ he said, ‘this good girl deserves her hot bath now. And remember,’ he added as she started eagerly up the stairs of her new home, surreptitiously wiping away her tears, ‘anytime you want to wear those pearls again in front of anyone, you just let me know.’ And he smiled.
That fateful night when her girlfriends came to visit, they were all rather tipsy from indulging in one drink too many. Amanda was getting married, and they were having a final girls’ night out for her. They wound up at Penny’s and Andrew’s place after the club because it was a nice big comfortable house, not a small cramped apartment like the one’s her single friends lived in. At two o’clock in the morning they were still chatting happily in the living room when Andrew came downstairs in one of his elegant robes. ‘What’s all this?’ he asked.
The three friends, in various states of disrepair, were sprawled across the sofa, and in one of the big comfortable armchairs. Penny leapt to her feet the second Andrew entered the room, but her friends didn’t bother to get up.
‘Penny’s been giving me a send-off to wedded bliss,’ Amanda declared in a slurred voice. Being the party girl, she was the most sloshed.
‘Yeah,’ Caroline chimed in, ‘tomorrow she’s swearing to love, honour and obey. Fat chance!’ If she hadn’t laughed after she said that, maybe everything would have turned out differently. But she did laugh, and suddenly Penny knew the night was about to turn sour on her. She was trying to give Caroline a warning look when she heard Andrew’s chillingly reasonable tone.
‘Funny you should say that, Caroline, as Penny took the same oath. Didn’t you, my pet?’
His tone alarmed her as much as it had the night she remembered all too well when he took her in the doorway both ways. ‘Mm,’ she murmured noncommittally, not liking the drift of this at all.
‘Have any of you ever seen a demonstration of what that oath involves?’ Andrew inquired pleasantly.
‘I say, do you have a kinky streak, Pen?’ Amanda giggled. ‘You dirty thing, you!’
‘Amanda, you will find that Penelope is not into anything,’ Andrew said quietly. ‘But she does have her perks, don’t you, my dear? Have you shown them your pearls? Have you shown them the lovely gifts I give you?’
At the mention of the pearls, a crimson flush spread over Penny’s face and her whole body seemed to get hot.
‘Look at her!’ Caroline exclaimed. ‘Oh, this must be dirty!’
‘Not at all,’ Andrew assured her, ‘it is merely a jewel, Penelope’s private jewel. Isn’t that so, my love?’
Penny felt her stomach turning. Since that night in the doorway she had stepped softly around Andrew and kept those pearls hidden safely away in a drawer. She only pulled them out when he asked her to wear them in bed for him. And then he caressed her bottom very gently before fucking her in the pussy as courteously as he usually did. Now, however, she felt her bowels stirring anxiously. ‘It’s a very private jewel,’ she said finally.
‘Why don’t you fetch it, my pet?’ Andrew suggested. ‘Let’s give the girls a full, live demonstration of what it means to love, honour and obey your husband.’
Flushed from head to toe, Penny fled the room, but it was upstairs she ran, to fetch her pearls. She knew she did not have a choice even as she reassured herself that he couldn’t possibly mean to do anything to her in front of her friends. Yet the sound of laughter downstairs told her this was not a dream; this was happening. She lifted out the box she had hidden beneath her undergarments in the bottom drawer of her cabinet. Inside it, lying against the plush red lining, was the cool white string of pearls.
With an anxious tightness in her bottom, she walked slowly as a schoolgirl bound for punishment, back down the carpeted stairs.
Caroline was smoking when she came in and laughing at something Andrew had said. Susan was lying sprawled on her side on the other end of the sofa, asleep. Her husband was sitting between them.
‘Bring it in Penny,’ he said, ‘and stand right here in front of us where we can see you.’
‘Oh,’ Caroline smiled at her, ‘you aren’t half kinky on the sly, are you, Pen? I didn’t know you were like this.’
‘You’ve not seen much of Penny’s dark side, have you?’ He smiled at her.
‘Not for lack of trying,’ Caroline replied, and returned his smile.
‘You don’t surprise me.’ He looked back at his wife, who was standing a little unsteadily before him, holding the box clasped over her chest as if it might keep him and his intentions at bay.
‘Show them what’s in the box, Penelope,’ he instructed firmly.
‘Do I have to?’ she asked, even though she knew what he would say.
‘Do you remember what I offered you the last time we discussed the issue of whether or not you were a woman of your word, Penelope?’
‘But I haven’t worn them,’ she protested.
‘Oh,’ Caroline looked delighted, ‘this is good!’
‘Would you like to see Penny’s best jewel?’ Andrew asked her.
‘Would I!’
‘There you have it, my dear. I think you should show your friends what domesticity means. I think it is your duty, as the only married woman in this room, to show them just what it means to love, honour and obey a man.’
‘But I don’t want to wear the pearls,’ Penny insisted in a whining voice. She could feel matters slipping irrevocably out of her control.
‘Open the box,’ Andrew commanded.
She obeyed him, of course. The white pearls glowed against the deep red velvet, and at sight of them, a hush fell over the room.
‘So?’ Caroline finally asked.
‘You know what to do now, Penelope,’ her husband said.
Penny stood rooted to the spot as she felt all the air being sucked out of her lungs. There was a long pause, during which even Caroline held her tongue, and then with a resigned sigh, Penny felt the last of her resistance drain out of her. She set the box down on the coffee table, and without further ado, pulled her blouse up over her head. She was not wearing a bra, so her breasts sprang free.
Caroline’s eyes latched hungrily onto her friend’s lovely, perky bosom. Fortunately, Susan was half asleep and didn’t see anything.
‘Go on,’ Andrew said softly.
She slowly raised her skirt. Her thighs were veiled in white stockings held up by a matching garter belt.
‘Can I help her?’ Caroline asked abruptly.
Not surprisingly, Andrew responded, ‘I don’t see why not.’
She rose from the couch and sank to her knees in front of Penny, who blushed even more deeply. Caroline’s hands were soft and skilful; they quickly flicked up the clasps on her garter belt and pulled her stockings down with a swift, caressing gesture. ‘And the rest?’ She glanced back at Andrew for permission. It was as though she realised her friend, whom she had lusted after for so long in secret, had no will of her own now and was hers for the asking if she was simply polite to this man.
‘If you like,’ Andrew said magnanimously. ‘It’s called obedience.’
‘Oh, I see that.’ Caroline smiled and turned back to Penny, who could not bring herself to meet her eyes as her friend’s light fingers quickly slipped into the sides of her white panties, and tugged them down to expose her soft blonde bush. At sight of it, Caroline seemed to grow impatient, because Penny nearly lost her balance as she tugged her panties down her legs, forcing her to step out of them quickly to keep her footing. Now she was completely exposed.
‘Very nice,’ Caroline said as she stood up, and apparently accidentally placed a hand on one of her friend’s bare shoulders to steady herself.
Penny shivered as she felt something like an electric current tingle through her naked body at the other woman’s touch.
‘Is there more?’ Caroline asked, gazing at Penny’s down-turned gaze even as she addresse
d Andrew.
‘Is there more, Penny?’ he asked her in turn. ‘Why don’t you show them what more you do for me?’
‘What would you like?’ his wife asked submissively. She barely recognised her own voice it sounded so faint and dreamy. Part of her felt as if she was watching a snowy evening through a thick-paned window, so that she only saw how mysteriously beautiful it was without feeling the dangerous cold.
‘Come and kneel before me,’ her husband commanded gently.
She looked at him. He couldn’t mean...
‘Kneel right here.’ He pointed at the floor between his knees.
He did mean it.
Caroline was still standing beside her, facing away from Andrew and smiling knowingly at her. It was an evil grin, one she usually showed only when talking about men. ‘You are a good girl, Pen,’ she said softly.
‘I don’t...’ Penny protested weakly.
‘You will kneel,’ her husband said. ‘She’s seen it all before.’
‘Not her, I haven’t,’ Caroline pointed out. ‘She’s my special friend.’
‘I can’t, not in front of...’ Penny felt light-headed. She was still blushing from the memory of Caroline’s hands lingering on her legs, which had made her feel so strange...
‘Would you rather I had you kneel before Caroline? She’s the one you wanted to demonstrate obedience to. Or perhaps we should wake Susan and teach her a lesson.’
‘I’m fine...’ Susan mumbled, without opening her eyes.
Penny walked past the smiling Caroline, and nearly felt her legs give way in front of Andrew; she had to put her hands on his knees to steady herself.
‘You know what to do,’ he said.
She glanced down at the bulge clearly visible beneath his robe that told her his cock was already almost fully erect.
Caroline sat down beside Andrew again and leaned against his shoulder, bringing her face down close to the knot in his belt. ‘Show me what you can do, Penny,’ she said, and leered at her as she licked her lips in anticipation.
Penny swallowed hard thinking of her suitcase upstairs and of her life in this house. Then she slipped her hands into her husband’s dressing gown, found his hard-on, pulled it out gently, and put her lips to it as her friend giggled and reached out to stroke her hair.
Andrew looked on patiently, his hand coming to rest on Caroline’s thigh as he said, ‘Good girl... good girl...’ while Penny worked her mouth up and down on his tool, her head bobbing in his lap. Then she gave a small, choked cry when he suddenly gripped the back of her head with one hand and pushed her face down hard over him as he came, pumping his white-hot cum down her throat and making her swallow every last drop. Finally he let her go, but only to punish her for taking so long to get the pearls.
Bent naked over a chair, Penny bit her lip as Andrew dangled the string of pearls from one hand while gripping the back of her neck with the other to hold her down. Then he brought the rope of pearls up in a slow arc, and each one stung painfully into her buttocks as he lashed her with it. She was stunned to discover how like a whip a string of pearls could feel, how like a long and cruelly knobbed whip raising a string of red welts across her exposed bottom and making her squeal.
‘If you don’t take your strokes like a good girl,’ he warned, ‘we’ll have to start all over again, only this time we’ll do it outside on the pavement. Or you could, of course, leave with Caroline and never return to this house again.’
Penny closed her eyes and stifled a moan as she waited for the rope of pearls to bite her bare cheeks again.
After he had finished punishing her with the pearls, her husband made her crouch down on the floor, the infamous necklace around her neck, her cheek pressed against the carpet and her elbows chaffing against it as her bottom was pummelled, regularly and repeatedly, by a ten-inch dildo wielded with great enthusiasm by her friend, Caroline, who was naked now except for the strap-on she always carried around in her purse, just in case she got lucky. Caroline thought this was a great way to express friendship as well as obedience. Andrew stood by watching, and Susan was no longer asleep.
She was sitting up straight, her dress bunched around her waist while she eagerly stroked her clitoris and slipped two fingers up into her pussy, which was getting unbelievably hot watching her friend being banged from behind by her other friend. She was looking forward to her wedding tomorrow even more now, and the oath she would take to love, honour and obey her husband, no matter what.
The Presenter Presented
Erica Johnson was a large-breasted blonde with a contrastingly thin waste and a mane of long golden curls she tossed to great effect in the presence of men, and since she worked in television, it could be said she was always in the presence of men and performing for them.
At the moment she was fiddling with one of the buttons of her blouse, which showed off the beautiful breasts she seldom imprisoned in a bra. She was riding in the glass elevator all the way to the top of the Television Tower building, and she was nervous because the boss had asked to see her. This was not in itself an unusual occurrence; he had asked to see her before. She had been to see Chairman Mathews dozens of times with at least two buttons undone on her blouse, a ploy that always worked when she had to deal with difficult men. But this time was different.
Erica had a reputation for trouble. When you had breasts the size of hers and a pretty smile and gorgeous hair and you liked to laugh, well, people just looked at you. She had found the perfect job for herself as a sports broadcaster and a sports show hostess. The trouble was that Erica enjoyed being looked at off camera as well. She liked it so much that she often wound up in the newspapers, for one reason or other. And she had the unfortunate habit of getting involved with men who liked to tell afterwards, or who were not very discreet. One of these men had taken her to a topless beach, where a photographer had secretly snapped their picture, and the following morning her naked breasts graced the front page of several tabloids in all their glory. Millions of people had gazed at them over milk and cornflakes and jammy toast. Which was why she was a little nervous this time about going to see Chairman Mathews. She was just a bit concerned that, this time, she had gone too far. Not that it was her fault, she told herself as she flicked open one more button on her white blouse, but people never understood that. Naturally, he could not fire her, but she freed one more button just in case. It was the last button she could undo and still sport a professional aura rather than look like a total slut.
She was very popular, she reminded herself in the mirror just outside the chairman’s door. Men liked her, women envied her, and all that had to be worth something. She wiped a stray blonde curl out of her eye with a manicured finger, and knocked quietly on the double mahogany doors.
There was no answer.
She knocked again, and almost immediately one of the doors swung in on silent hinges. No one seemed to be in the suite, with its stunning view of the city below. No one was at the secretary’s desk just outside the chairman’s office. No one was here at the nerve centre of commercial television where the most important phone, the phone that warned of any technical emergencies or news breaking stories, was hung.
Erica walked up to the desk feeling a little panicked. She had expected to plead for her job, not to be so unimportant as to be stood up.
‘Ah, Erica,’ a voice said from somewhere behind her, and she recognised it as Chairman Mathews’s. Apparently, it had come from a bathroom tucked discretely away between the oak panelling and bookshelves lining the suite’s chestnut walls. As she turned, a section of mock bookcase swung open and revealed her boss with his bald head and his slight paunch contained in a blue shirt that matched his striking eyes. And Erica could not believe her own eyes, because the chairman was on the toilet. But then, as she stared at him in horror, she realised that he was not actually on the toilet, meaning he was not using it for its intended purpose. His s
hining black trousers were crumpled round his ankles and he was sitting on the lid of the toilet while his secretary, an older woman with her hair gathered up in a bun at the nape of her neck, knelt on the floor before him with his penis buried in her mouth.
The chairman was being sucked off!
‘Won’t be a minute, Erica,’ he said. ‘Come over here, I’d like you to see something.’
In a daze, Erica approached the doorway of the tiny bathroom. Her heavy breasts swayed back and forth inside her blouse as she walked, but she was scarcely aware of them any more. She paused just outside the doorway as the chairman grabbed hold of his secretary’s head, and guided it into moving more swiftly up and down his erection. ‘You see, Erica... look at me while I’m speaking to you,’ he demanded.
She looked at him. Now he was caressing his secretary’s tightly contained hair. The woman didn’t look up, she was much too busy, and Erica couldn’t tell if she minded being seen like this. She certainly didn’t seem to mind what she was doing.
‘Look at me,’ the chairman repeated.
Erica forced herself to meet his eyes. They were a chilling blue that made her shiver somewhere deep in her belly, and she realised that was why she didn’t like looking at him. The way he made her feel wouldn’t help her get her way during negotiations.
‘You see, Erica, this is private business. What Miss Brown is doing to me - suck Miss Brown, suck, that’s good - is private. We all do this sort of thing behind closed doors... I said, look at me, Erica.’
Her eyes had wandered again; she found it intensely humiliating having to look at his cock disappearing in and out of the kneeling woman’s mouth. She wondered why that was, why she minded what the other woman was doing. But he was talking again, and it was important she listen to what he was saying, that she not let the sight of his rigid, gleaming shaft distract her...
‘We do it in private, Erica, whereas you do it in print.’ Suddenly, he reached up and grabbed one side of her half open blouse.
School for Nurses Page 5