Yes, My Darling Daughter!

by Pierre le Valle

  “Shake 'em, Lolly-that's the girl!” came a voice from a nearby table.

  Obligingly, the girl shook herself more vigorously, swinging her breasts from side to side as she backed towards the centre of the floor.

  The spotlight lowered.then, covering her from the hips downwards, leaving the rest of her body in shadow. Her hands went to the waist of her panties, paused; her thumbs hooked into the elastic, paused again. Then slowly, she peeled them down over hips and bottom. A gasp went up as the flimsy nylon slipped half-way down her thighs, showing a triangle of dark pubic hair. When me panties reached her knees, she let go, allowing them to drop to her feet. She stepped back out of them, picked them up and put them on the chair.

  She faced the audience once more, drawing herself up, running her hands slowly upwards from her thighs, over her stomach to her breasts, holding them up, pushing them out, as though offering them to the onlookers. She turned her back, thrust her behind out at us; turned again and stood with wide open legs, hips jutting forward, showing us the shadowy slit of her sex. Her hands smoothed up the inside of her thighs, met at her crotch; legs widened, slim fingers probed, opened up the lips of her vulva, glistening in the spotlight. Her upper body swayed back, pelvis still thrust forward; she posed like that for perhaps half a minute. The music had stopped and her only accompaniment was the murmur of gasps and comments from the tables. Then came a single chord of music and the spotlight went out.

  “Well, what did you think?”

  “She certainly showed us everything she had!”

  “Not quite everything.”

  “What do you want-blood?”

  “We've had that, too!”

  “Blood?”

  “They had a couple of lesbian flagellants here-they had quite an act. They'd start off by miming an argument, then a fight; one would pretend to be knocked out while the other stripped her naked. Then a pretty solid-looking wooden triangle would be pushed on to the floor and a couple of the audience would be invited to help strap the naked girl to it-you can guess there were quite a few very willing volunteers! A whip would be produced and then the 'victim' would pretend to wake up just as her flogging was about to start.”

  “And you mean to say the other woman whipped her until she drew blood?” I could hardly believe anyone would go to such lengths to earn money.

  “Well, not- not exactly. I saw the act three or four times and the woman wielding the whip was quite clever. She made a great show of drawing it back and making the whip hum as she brought it over, but then she had the knack of making it crack viciously only an inch or so away from the bare back or bottom of the girl, so that to the casual onlooker, she was really flogging her. I do know, though, that the girl used to take two or three light blows to show some stripes- George tells me the whip had some sort of red colouring on it. The girl used to gasp and cry out and jerk about as though she was really being flogged.

  “Then, one evening, they must have had a proper row before the show. They went on with the act, but as soon as the girl was strapped, naked, to the triangle, the other one must have seized her opportunity of settling whatever score she had. She began to flog her in earnest; the girl cried out, jerked, and even screamed for someone to stop the woman. Of course, we all thought it was a whale of a show they were putting on that night, until we realised that each time that whip cracked, another stripe was laid across the girl's back or behind. Then someone at one of the tables yelled that it was the real thing as a trickle of blood ran down the girl's back.

  “George came trundling on, then, and shoved the woman away. I helped her unstrap the girl-she really had been whipped-poor thing was in an awful state. They didn't have that act any more!”

  “Golly!” I shivered. “Some people go in for that, don't they-whipping each other, I mean.”

  “Quite a lot — in a very modified form, it has its points as a sort of hors deurvre to the main course!” Stella topped up the glasses and smiled. “Don't worry — I'm not going to start beating you! Ah-here's the next act.”

  The second turn was almost a repetition of the first, except that the girl had bigger breasts and stripped down from ordinary street clothes. The third act really was, as George had said, “a corker”!

  The woman, I would say, was in her late twenties, a brunette, with ripe, mature curves. She was dressed in summery street clothes — light raincoat, belted, very high heeled shoes; an inch or two of a print dress showed beneath the raincoat and she carried a handbag.

  At first, I thought it was going to be a copy of the first two acts, as she strutted around to music, gradually stripping until she was down to her bra and panties. She put her high heeled shoes back on after peeling off the stockings, then slowly swayed around the edge of the floor, close to the tables, followed by the spotlight. She began to sing in a low, throaty voice, pausing at odd tables; it was a pop number, but the words were laden with suggestion.

  She stopped at our table, leaned, giving Stella and I a good view of her scantily-covered breasts. She walked round the table, paused again behind us, reached down and chucked Stella under the chin; her stomach pressed hard against my elbow as she bent forward. Stella grinned up at her, then the woman turned to me; her face was very close to mine as she sang words that went something like 'You do things to me-let me do things to you!' The strong perfume she was wearing tickled my nostrils as she came even closer; I looked at her heavily made-up face and decided she was quite pretty underneath it. She stopped singing and the music stopped with her; there was a tense silence in the club as her face came closer to mine. My heart-beat quickened as her lips came within an inch of mine; I didn't know whether to draw back or stay where I was; I thought she was going to kiss me as her scented breath blew on my mouth. Then she smiled, winked, ran the tip of her forefinger lightly down my nose and she was away, moving on to the next table, taking up the song where she had left off.

  “Whew!” I let my breath out as I sat back.

  “What's the matter-think she was going to rape you? Perhaps hoping she was?” Stella chuckled.

  The singer went back to the centre of the floor again, body swaying in the tight pants and bra. Then came the final stripping. Off came the bra and knickers, slowly, in what seemed to be a conventional pattern.

  Naked, now, except for the high heels, she posed for us, giving views of herself from the side, to show the firm, upward jut of her large breasts; the back, to let everyone see what a well-fleshed bottom she had and finally, she faced us, legs well apart, holding open the lips of her vulva.

  She went over to the chair then, kneeling in front of it, giving us a side view of her. Opening her handbag, she put both hands inside, paused, then slowly drew them out again. Another gasp went up from the tables as a huge rubber affair came into view; shaped like a male penis, it had a big bulb at the base of it, just where a man's testicles would be.

  The woman went through all sorts of suggestive movements with her hands; stroking the rubber penis, squeezing the bulb very gently, putting her face close to the tip, her mouth opening as though she were about to suck it, then pushing it away from her.

  “I don't know if you've ever seen one before, but that's a dildo,” whispered Stella.

  “I've heard of them, but this is the first time I have seen one-pretty life-like, aren't they!”

  “And that one's a little larger than life!”

  Georgina was now crouching on the floor, the dildo held at arm's length as though it were a snake. Gradually, she swayed back, until her bottom was on the floor; further still, slowly, and then she was flat on her back, the dildo held above her.

  Leisurely, her long legs began to open; wider and wider until they were stretched to their maximum, showing us the whole length of her slit. The lips hung well open and shone wetly in the brilliant light; even so, I had doubts whether she would get that great dildo up her, because that was the obvious next move.

  The music stopped again and she slowly brought the rubber cock down, holding
it between her outstretched thighs, the knob poised above her opening. There came a roll of drums, her arms jerked sharply downwards, pulling inward and ramming the whole length of the huge dildo up her in one savage thrust. There were squeals of exclamations from the women at the tables and her own face contorted as it went in. She lay back, and we could see the rapid rise and fall of her breasts.

  Then, very softly, tom-toms began. Holding the dildo quite still in her hands, she began to lift her bottom off the floor, jerking her sex up at the dildo, in time to the beat of the drums. That was the only part of her body that moved the whole time. That slow working of her sex on to the dildo, hips and bottom moving sinuously.

  Gradually, the tom-toms became louder, their tempo faster, Georgina matching them with her movements, until the whole thing became frenzied. Sweat filmed her body, and the steady thump, thump of her buttocks on the floor provided a syncopation for the drums. Her rasping breath and jerky moans came to us above the sound of the toms-toms. Suddenly, her buttocks high off the floor, dildo in her to the hilt, she stopped then, with a deep groan, her bottom lowered once more, to jerk up hard; at the same time, she gave herself one brutal thrust, plunging the rubber shaft deeply madly squeezing the bulb at the end. The drums stopped.

  Then her hands fell away and she jerked about on the floor, whimpering, the dildo half hanging out of her. She was either having a frantic orgasm or she was a first class actress!

  The switching off of the spotlight ended the act amid tumultuous applause. I jerked involuntarily as Stella reached over in the semi-darkness and patted my lap — high up at the tops of my thighs.

  “Bet it's pretty sticky just about there,” she whispered. “My drawers must be soaked! Wow! What an act!”

  “Is it strictly legal?”

  “Search me! We're all one sex-well-near enough! The show's private and for members only-and, incidentally, no one under twenty-one is admitted. I don't know of any law against consenting lesbians in private and over twenty-one. You figure it out!”

  The next act was a repetition of the first two and I suppose came under the heading of “straight stripper.”

  Finally, Jean and Penny were announced. Jean was a full-breasted, attractive brunette and Penny a tall, slim blonde, both in their mid-twenties.

  Jean wore a gold lame cocktail dress, off-the-shoulder, with a simple chain necklace, wrist-watch, seamed nylons and gold high-heeled shoes.

  Penny escorted her as her boy-friend; wearing a man's dinner jacket and accessories. A bottle and two half-filled glasses were on the table, with two chairs to one side.

  They sat down, Jean giving us a flash of her lacy underthings as she crossed her shapely legs. They mimed talking and drinking for a while until the music started. Then Penny stood up, bowed elaborately and Jean nodded, ostentatiously un-crossing her legs and getting to her feet.

  They danced a sort of acrobatic tango, and could they dance! Jeans' skirt, of course, kept swirling up round her hips, showing us a well-rounded and snugly-pantied bottom topping two plump, but well-shaped thighs.

  The dance finished and they sat down again; they “talked and drank” some more, then began the seduction scene.

  First, Penny's arm went around Jean's shoulders, then she was persuaded to a kiss. A hand went to her bosom, to be slapped away. It tried again, stayed. Jean acting all coy and keeping her head averted. The hand began to fondle and Jean to soften; Jenny's hand finally slipped down inside her dress and we could see the exaggerated movement of the hand squeezing the breast it was cupping. Jean gave free access to her lips, then.

  There was a murmur of laughter as George came on, pointing towards the door and their faces registered embarrassed dismay. They stood up and slunk from the floor with bowed heads, while George picked up bottle and glasses and dusted the table. The spotlight went out; one or two people started to applaud, but that was only the beginning!

  When the light came on again, it showed a park bench, with Jean and Penny taking up where they left off. Penny's hand kept sliding down the front of Jean's body to the hem of her skirt and getting slapped away every time it tried to slip under it. Kissing went on for a while, then the hand would try its luck again.

  At last, we saw the hand slide up under the skirt, move up and down, stroking Jean's thighs; move higher — pause. A loud gasp came from Jean as she slapped Penny's face. Then Penny started all over again.

  There were occasional gasps from some of the nearby tables as couples emulated the pair en the floor.

  So the act went on, Penny whispering and Jean shaking her head. Then came the time when the hand was allowed to remain high under the skirt; there was plenty of movement there, now, and Jean's legs splayed open, to let us see the hand busily stroking at her crotch. Some more whispers, more shaking of Jean's head, but slower. Finally, shyly, she turned her head away from Penny and nodded. Penny whispered again and Jean looked at her with wide eyes, peered up and down as if to see if there was anyone coming, then slowly got to her feet.

  First looking at Penny doubtfully, her hands then went behind her. She turned her back to us and pulled down a zip, wriggling to get the tight dress down her body, drawing loudly whispered offers from the audience as she deliciously waggled her plump bottom from side to side once the dress was past her hips.

  Suspenders were slowly unfastened, shoes and stockings removed. She released her lovely large breasts, moving enough where she stood to make them sway from side to side, holding the bra out from her body before letting it fall to the floor with the rest of her things.

  She made a real production number of getting out of her panties, starting to take them off as she faced us, turning as they got lower until her back was to us again and we saw the panties pulled down to the tops of her thighs, bringing more appreciative gasps from the onlookers as her full, white buttocks were revealed. When she turned back to face us, the front of her pants still covered her pubic hair; she looked coyly at us, then at Penny, and, with a swift movement, pushed the filmy panties right down, let them slide down her legs to her feet, then stepped out of them. She undipped the suspender-belt, dropped it, then looked challengingly at Penny, tapping her foot, as though to say, “well, I'm naked-what are you going to do about it?”

  Penny, who had stood motionless while Jean stripped, off her jacket, followed it with her bow tie, unlaced her shoes and kicked them off. She unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off, disclosing a tight man's vest underneath. Beneath the vest, we saw the two small, but firm-looking bulges of her breasts.

  I was quite startled when her trousers were removed — there was a long, hard lump pushing out the underpants! Off came the vest, revealing very round, very firm little breasts. Jean eyed the lump under the pants, her hand going to her mouth nervously as. Penny hooked her thumbs into the waist.

  Penny turned her back to the audience and Jean alike, then skinned the pants down her legs, showing us a pair of round, tight buttocks and long, slim legs. With an abrupt movement, she swung round to face us, murmured comments came from the tables and someone just behind us called out:

  “Bloody hell-give us a bit!” drawing “shushes” from the rest.

  Strapped about Penny's loins was a truly huge dildo-even bigger than the one Georgina had used. It stuck out, swaying threateningly. Unlike the black, gleaming rubber of Georgina's, this one was flesh-coloured, with a purplish knob and a very like-like ball-bag dangling between Penny's thighs.

  As her partner moved towards her, dildo swinging from the base of her belly, Jean gave a loud, frightened “No-I couldn't possibly!” and backed away, as Penny came on, she turned and ran. Then the chase was on.

  Round the park bench went Jean, with Penny in hot pursuit, Jean's plump breasts bouncing up and down and Penny so close, her “penis” several times brushed the well-fleshed bottom.

  At last, Jean appeared to trip-conveniently sprawling length-wise along the park bench. Immediately. Penny was on her, straddling her buttocks, hands pressing down on her
back. She held her until Jean stopped her struggles. She got off the bench, then, one hand still on Jean's back, holding her down.

  “Kneel up and open your legs-I want to do it from the back!” said Penny, in a stage whisper.

  Jean looked round at the great dildo, shuddered and shook her head. Penny began to smack her, then, making the plump cheeks of her bottom jerk and quiver with the impact, as the slaps cracked loudly through the room. Jean gasped and groaned and finally nodded her head vigorously.

  “All right,” she panted, “don't smack me any more, please!”

  Her bottom showed pink under the light as Penny stood away from her and she rose to her knees, backing to the end of the bench. There, she spread her legs to the full width of the bench and stuck her bottom out, looking back fearfully as Penny stepped up behind her and the tip of the false penis rested on her behind.