by Penny Birch
‘I’ll join you later,’ I offered as his arm closed over her shoulder. ‘Mel, can I have a word?’
‘Sure, as long as it’s in the loo. You can watch me piss.’
Beth was in earshot, but not paying attention, staring in wonder at the incredibly vulgar chandelier. I took Mel’s arm before she could suggest anything worse and steered her towards the stairs, only to be pulled towards one of the doors leading from the hall.
‘You’re eager, not getting what you need from little Beth?’ she asked as she pushed the door shut.
‘No, I mean yes. Look, Mel, she’s innocent; she can’t handle what you’re into . . .’
‘Sure, and that’s why you were snogging her in Geezer’s, with twenty guys watching you and wishing they could get their cocks in there.’
‘No, seriously, she’s never even been spanked.’
‘Leave her to Morris; she’s already eating out of his hand.’
‘Morris!’
‘Calm down, girl. She’s getting the tour. No one else is coming till midnight. Relax.’
‘Please, Melody, at least tell him to go easy, not to grope her or anything.’
‘Jealous, eh? Wanted to smack that little round butt first? I know your game, Penny, you just want first go. Don’t worry, you can give us a floor show, then we’ll do you together, side by side with your lily-white bums stuck high in the air.’
‘She couldn’t take it, really, Mel. Look, OK, I have been trying to get her into spanking, but she thinks it’s abuse, always, like when a drunk beats up his wife or something.’
‘Easy, let her do you first.’
‘She won’t go for it, even when I beg her. Look, speak to Harmony, please?’
She had been undressing as we spoke, peeling off top, bra, shorts, and a tiny thong without the slightest self-consciousness. Nude, she was even more impressive than dressed, a real Amazon, all firm, dark flesh, but feminine beyond the slightest doubt. She shrugged, took two quick steps to the door and called for her sister. Harmony appeared, fortunately without Beth, and they spoke quickly, much of it out of my hearing.
‘All done,’ she said as she pushed the door closed again. ‘They’ll take it easy, at least until the party gets going.’
‘Thanks, Melody.’
‘So what’s with the dom kick? And what’s Amber got to say about Miss Clean anyway?’
‘I’m not being dominant; I want Beth to take charge of me. She’s so sweet, and so bloody self-righteous. I just want to see her with a cane in her hand. Amber knows. She’s used to me.’
‘Yeah, right. Coming in?’
She had stepped into the shower and I stripped off and joined her. I was quite drunk and my mind was in a whirl. I was worried about Beth, but cross with myself for it and even a little pleased. In the world according to Metropolitan the sort of depraved orgy that was going to start in a short while just didn’t exist. People like Melody did, and were extolled as icons – the black girl from the East End who had married rich and now lived in a mansion and jetted between London and New York. Personally I didn’t care if Melody lived in a mansion or a hut, but the smell of her skin and the way her muscles moved as she soaped herself was really getting to me.
I took the soap and began to wash her, with the water cascading down our bodies as I rubbed lather into her gleaming brown skin. Unlike Beth she took the washing as an act of submission, and unlike Beth she made no fuss about where my fingers went. I was soon on my knees, working soap into her tummy, then the rich growth of crinkly black hair that covered her sex.
‘You’re going to kiss that later,’ she said from above me. ‘You’re going to lick cunt with everyone watching and I’m going to come in your face. I’ll make you lick my ass, too, with your tongue right in the hole.’
I kissed her pussy in response, just a peck, but enough to get the rich, aroused scent into my head. She laughed and turned, pushing out her bottom to be washed. My fingers were trembling as I lathered her cheeks, feeling their plump, meaty texture, so girlish yet so strong. It was almost in my face, with her cheeks open enough to show a little of the rear of her pussy lips, which I always feel is the rudest view a girl can present, especially if her bumhole shows. Melody’s did, a dark star of wrinkled flesh, almost true black in colour. I wanted to lick it, to stick my tongue up in a gesture of utter surrender, but contented myself with a kiss to each firm brown buttock, saving the treat until later. Not that I held back from washing her, even sliding a soapy finger into her rectum. After all, if I was going to be licking her anus later I wanted it nice and clean. She complained at the sting of the soap, but sighed when I wiggled my finger in her bottom.
‘Let’s do it now,’ she said.
‘What about the others?’
‘They’ll be ages, and if your prissy friend’s going to spoil the fun I want it now.’
I didn’t argue. After all, I’d been getting more and more worked up all night, but there had always been that uncertainty of success. With Melody there was no uncertainty. I was quite happy to lick her in the shower, but she turned it off and climbed out.
‘Stay on your knees,’ she ordered. ‘You can dry me and powder me.’
I obeyed, taking a huge, fluffy towel from a hot rail and using it to dry her body, all the while kneeling, dripping wet, and nude except for my bondage bracelets. With her towering over me and her firm flesh under my fingers I was feeling more and more submissive, even wondering if I dared take a spanking despite the noise it would make, both from the slaps on my bottom and the howls I would undoubtedly produce.
Once she was dry she gave me a tub of some scented talc and a powder-puff. I dabbed her down, powdering every inch of her body from neck to feet, enjoying her breasts and bottom the most, but getting the biggest submissive kick out of her feet. It was just right for my role of body servant, powdering her toes while I grovelled naked on the floor with my bum stuck out and my dangling boobs dripping water on the floor.
‘When were you caned?’ she asked from above me.
‘Last Monday,’ I admitted.
‘By Amber?’
‘No, by a man, Percy Ottershaw. You don’t know him.’
‘Yes I do; Morris got him to do our cellar. He’s grossly overweight, about sixty and a dirty old bastard. You’re a slut, Penny Birch, a filthy little slut. Now get on with it.’
She had left her sex until last, and as I dabbed the powder-puff to her pussy the urge to push my face in and just lick and lick was close to overwhelming. I held back, not wanting to make her come too soon. With the front done, she turned and bent, putting her hands on the toilet seat and parting her legs. I shuffled closer, swallowing at the sight of her open pussy, the centre wet and pink. Her anus was a little open too, with bright pink flesh showing in the middle and a little soap bubble over the actual hole. I dabbed the puff between her cheeks and over her pussy, feeling more servile than ever – the beaten maid powdering her mistress’s body, allowed to do the most intimate places because she was too inconsequential for it to matter what she saw.
‘Good girl,’ she sighed. ‘A little more on my pussy, then you can kiss my arse.’
I knew she didn’t mean the cheeks. I love kissing other girls’ bumholes: it’s so wonderfully rude and so wonderfully submissive. What better way to acknowledge a playmate’s dominance than to kiss their anus?
I feigned reluctance anyway, because I knew she’d like it. With my lips puckered up I leaned forward, slowly, letting what I was about to do really sink in. My face pressed between her big, meaty black cheeks; my lips touched her bottom-hole and I was doing it, kissing another’s girl’s anus to show to her just how far beneath her I was.
‘Slut,’ Melody told me as I began to explore the wrinkles of her bumhole with my tongue.
She let me do it, using my tongue tip to lick her bottom-hole and the flesh around it, then the hard bar of muscle between pussy and anus. I probed her vagina, tasting her juice as it mixed with the flavour of the powder in my m
outh. If she had let me I would have licked her like that, from the rear, with her lovely bum in my face as I lapped her clit and masturbated my own pussy. It would have been good, but no sooner had my lips found her clit than she reached back and pulled me off by my hair.
‘Not yet, girl,’ she told me. ‘Now get your slobber off my pussy.’
Once more I dried and powdered her, then kneeled back, wondering how she wanted me if being licked from behind wasn’t enough. My knees were set well apart, more or less of their own accord, offering my pussy in case she wanted to feel me or push anything up me. Instead she lifted the lavatory seat, sat down on the china rim and clicked her fingers, pointing at the floor between her feet. I shuffled over, my mind full of the humiliation of licking her out while she sat on the lavatory. She might pee while I did it, over my face and in my mouth, doubtless laughing while she soiled me.
Her thighs were well apart, her pussy swollen and open, with every detail on show: the pink flesh around her lips and between them, the darker crests to each inner lip, the glossy nub of her clitoris, the tiny depression that marked her pee-hole. I looked up at her, finding her watching me with an expression of lust and sadistic hauteur.
‘Watch my pussy, Penny,’ she ordered. ‘Watch me pee.’
As she spoke she let go, her stream gushing out to splash in the bowl beneath her. I watched, entranced, wishing it was in my face or over my breasts. I was expecting her to grab me by the hair and force my face in between her thighs, having let me see her pee start before I was made to take it in my mouth. She didn’t, but just let it run, filling me with an odd blend of relief and disappointment.
The gush died to a trickle and stopped. Melody dabbed her pussy with paper, not one sheet but several, luxury thickness and pink, in keeping with the decor. I licked my lips as she dropped it, wondering why she hadn’t taken proper advantage of me, but sure the moment had come. She reached out and took my hair, twisting a handful into her fist. It hurt, but all I could manage was a little mewling sound in my throat. I was pulled down, face to the floor, and she took my arms, one by one, lifting them into the small of my back. I held them there as she clipped my bracelets together, depriving me of the use of my arms. I’d been going to masturbate while I licked her and felt a flush of frustration and disappointment, yet I knew she’d make me come in the end.
As she got to her feet I again wondered what she was doing, only to realise as I was dragged towards the bowl. There was nothing I could do. She is far stronger than me, and I could only give a little gasp of misery as my head was pulled over the toilet bowl and pushed down into it. I now realised why she had lifted both seats: to get my head deeper into the bowl. My bottom was up high, my breasts pressed to the lavatory bowl when she stopped, holding my face an inch clear of the yellow water. I could smell the pee and her strong, feminine musk, while my heart was hammering in anticipation of what was about to be done to me.
‘This is it, Penny,’ she said. ‘How does it feel with your face down a lavatory bowl? Now stop wriggling while I flush you. Here we go, one, two, three, and away!’
I heard the rasp of the plunger and shut my eyes an instant before the water erupted around my head. My mouth had come open to cry out in protest, only to be filled with water and piddle as I was flushed. She held my hair tight, laughing as the mess rose up, swirling around my head, soiling my face and hair, going up my nose and in my ears while I drummed my feet on the floor in helpless frustration.
She kept my head down until the last of the water had gone. I was sobbing with reaction, gasping for breath and shivering, completely overwhelmed by what had been done to me and ready for more, or worse. The watery pee was dripping out of my nose and off my chin, while I held my eyes tight shut, both to stop it going in them and in an agony of humiliation. I’d been flushed down a lavatory, which had to be about as bad as it gets, while I didn’t even have the dignity of clothes.
Melody was still chuckling to herself as she pulled my head out of the bowl, dragged me to my feet and over to the sink, where she held me in front of the mirror. I was like a drowned rat, my face dripping wet and my hair plastered to my face and full of bits of pink lavatory paper. Looking at myself my main feeling was of self-pity, but the sexual arousal behind it was really strong and I was shivering with need.
‘And now it’s time to lick pussy,’ Melody told me, ‘and as I’m such a nice girl you can frig off while you do it.’
‘Queen me,’ I answered, as she undid my bracelets, ‘and talk to me.’
She nodded and I got down, lying full length on the floor. I was shaking hard and eager for my orgasm, equally eager to give her one. She came to stand over me, smiling as she looked down, then turning and presenting me with the full glory of her bottom. I opened my mouth as she sank slowly into a squat, her cheeks spreading wide above my face, then touching, her pussy to my lips, her anus on my nose. She wiggled, making herself comfortable on my face as I began to lick her. My legs came up and open, spreading my pussy to the room as I began to stroke my body.
Melody began to squirm her bottom into my face, moving so that I could alternately lick her pussy and bumhole. She had spread her cheeks, giving me the fullest possible faceful of meaty black bottom, and was squatting, just as if she were going to pee. My mouth was full of the taste of her, and I was thinking of how I would feel in the same position out in the woods, with her squatting over my face to pee in my mouth. I had began to feel my breasts, intending to take my time, but with the thought of her using my mouth as a toilet I could hold off no longer. One hand went to my sex and I began to rub, teasing my pussy just as I was teasing my nipples.
‘That’s right, girl, you frig off,’ Melody said. ‘Frig off with my bum in your face and your tongue up my hole. It’s what you deserve, Penny, your head down the lavatory before your tongue goes up my arsehole. That’s right, girl, lick, good and deep, taste me. Now lick this.’
She shifted her weight, spreading her pussy in my face. I obeyed, lapping at her clit and all the while rubbing at myself. My fantasy was growing: I was imagining myself on a picnic with her, her sister and several other girls, all big, strapping black girls, full of swagger and self-confidence. I’d be the maid, carrying their things and serving them. They’d start to humiliate me, making me strip and serve in the nude, smacking my face and breasts, Melody giving me a good hard spanking across her lap to leave me red-bottomed and snivelling. As they got more drunk it would get worse. One of them would put a flower up my bumhole, leaving it sticking out between my smacked cheeks. I’d have to crawl, on my knees in the mud and leaves, all the while with them laughing at the way the flower bobbed and wobbled behind me. Melody would say that it would be funny to pee on me, that I deserved to be the toilet, and she’d do it, squatting over my face, peeing right in my mouth while the others watched and laughed at my degradation.
Her weight shifted, her clit pressing to my mouth and my nose into her anus. She began to grind herself into my face, gasping as she rubbed, then coming in a long, drawn-out scream of ecstasy. I had been close myself, but concentrated on her as she came, licking as best I could until at last her orgasm broke and she lifted her bottom. I grabbed her thighs and pulled her firmly back in my face, probing her bumhole with my tongue. That was best, my tongue up her tight bumhole, her big cheeks spread on my face.
My hands went between my legs and I rolled myself up, sliding one finger up my bottom-hole, which was slimy with my own juice. My thumb went into my pussy as I found my clit and started to rub, almost immediately feeling the first pulses of my approaching climax. I thought of the way I was, licking my friend’s anus with my mouth full of the taste of her pee and my hair sodden and filthy with piddle and bits of lavatory paper. The fantasy had gone when she’d come, but I tried to get back to it, only for her to start talking, as I had asked.
‘That’s the way for you, Penny,’ she began. ‘Your tongue up a black girl’s bottom. Yeah, lick deep, rim me out, taste me. I’d piss in your face if I
could, all over your tits and in your cunt. You’d love it, wouldn’t you, Penny, you filthy little slut, you dirty tart. Deeper, you little bitch, get your tongue up my dirtbox. Yeah, that’s what I ought to do to you: I ought to dump in your mouth . . .’
That was too much for me, but I didn’t care; I was already coming. My vagina and anus began to pulse, locking in ecstasy, as did my thighs and just about every muscle in my body. I’d have screamed if my face hadn’t been buried in Melody’s bottom, and my feet were hammering on the floor in an abandoned frenzy. It was beautiful, really superb, as only an orgasm built on mingled physical submission and submissive fantasy can be, but only when I started to come down did I realise that Melody had stopped talking.
The next thing I heard was a gasp of shock, and as Melody’s bottom lifted off my face I saw Beth, running away beyond where Harmony stood in the doorway. I was weak with reaction from my orgasm and could do nothing for a moment, only gasp for air. Melody had been pretty well suffocating me, but it hadn’t been a problem. Now it was. I was panting and trying to speak at the same time, trying to get up with half Mel’s weight still on me.
Beth was at the door before I managed to get up, and I heard Rathwell’s puzzled question from the hall. I ignored him, rushing out after Beth to find that the gentle rain had turned into a blinding downpour. Rathwell screamed something about not streaking in case the neighbours saw and then I’d gone headlong, slipping in the morass of mud left by the contractors who were re-laying the drive.
It was Rathwell’s security gate that saved me, otherwise I’m not sure Beth wouldn’t have gone for the police. She was certainly threatening to, banging on the intercom panel and yelling about perverts and maniacs. I caught up with her and grabbed her wrists, trying to calm her down.
‘What were you doing, Penny? What were you doing?’ she yelled. ‘She said . . .’