The Reluctant Stripper

by Lady Alice McCloud

  ‘Where does he live, this English Lord?’ Coco asked.

  ‘Number eighty-six, apartment seventeen,’ Thrift answered, not bothering to correct her friend’s perception of who she was seeking as it fitted well with the story she had begun to spin. ‘Now, I do not know him, except by reputation, so whatever happens, follow my lead. This way.’

  Coco nodded her agreement. The apartment block was no great distance away and Thrift felt her pulse quicken as they continued down the road. Number eighty-six was soon apparent, a tall, grey-stone building much like its neighbours but faced by a high, black painted fence topped with nasty looking spikes, while two substantial young men in plain suits stood to either side of the door.

  ‘Very grand,’ Coco said quietly, and before Thrift could stop her she had addressed the nearer of the two men. ‘Please announce us to Apartment Seventeen. Here is a franc for your trouble.’

  The man looked surprised. His companion grinned, but neither gave the girls more than a glance for their bosoms before the one Coco had tipped pressed a button beside the door. Unable to think of any way out of the situation that would not draw attention to herself, Thrift waited, praying that Quigley would either prove to be out or reject the idea of having too obvious tarts call on him in the middle of the afternoon. He was in and didn’t object. There were two brief, puzzled conversations, one between the first man and the communicator, the other between the two men, before the door was opened and the girls allowed inside to a square, marble floored hallway with an openwork lift of brass and iron to one side. Thrift did her best to remain poised, astonished that she had been admitted so easily and suspicious that all might not be as it seemed.

  She had planned to wait until Quigley emerged, follow him and then arrange what seemed to be a chance encounter, allowing her to proposition him and so gain his acquaintance. As it was she seemed to have no way to avoid meeting him as a deliberate caller, and as they rode the lift up to the fifth floor she was desperately trying to think of an excuse for their visit. The only possibility seemed to be to say they had been sent for his entertainment, in which case it would certainly be unwise to admit she was English.

  ‘I am called, um... Georgette,’ she hissed at Coco. ‘Whatever happens, don’t admit I’m English.’

  ‘Why not?’ Coco asked.

  ‘Just do it, please!’ Thrift begged as she slid the lift doors open.

  They were at the end of a corridor by the stairs, where a narrow landing looked out over the Avenue Emile Zola. Four doors of dark, polished wood opened to the sides. Number seventeen was the closest, already ajar. As they approached it swung wide, to reveal Godfrey Quigley himself, unmistakable despite being in a dressing gown of watered purple silk and having grown his moustache out and waxed the points.

  ‘My dears?’ he queried, puzzled but far from unfriendly, while his eyes had moved straight from their faces to their chests, as had those of every other man they had encountered.

  ‘Monsieur Quigley?’ Thrift asked, doing her best to disguise her accent. ‘I am Georgette, this is Coco. We have been sent for your pleasure.’

  ‘Have you, by Jove?’ he responded, his gaze moving down to their shoes and slowly back up. ‘Well, well, whatever will they think of next. Never mind, do come in and I shall worry about the Bureau in due time.’

  He chuckled to himself as he stood aside to allow them into his apartment. Thrift glanced around, taking in the fine old furniture, the expensive carpet, the hangings and curtains, all of which were in rich, dark colours, creating an air of restrained opulence to which Quigley had added more than a hint of decadence with a collection of erotic prints in gilt frames. The nearest showed a girl being spanked in the classic pose, turned across an older woman’s knee, her skirts lifted and her drawers spread, her bare bottom exposed for punishment as she wriggled and squirmed in her pain and shame. Coco had also noticed the picture, and giggled, at which Quigley raised an eyebrow.

  ‘I wonder how you would feel were you to find yourself in the same position?’ he asked.

  ‘I bet you’d like to watch,’ Coco responded cheekily, but there was a catch to her voice.

  ‘I certainly would,’ Quigley chuckled, ‘and as you are here for my entertainment, perhaps we shall both have our curiosity satisfied. However, perhaps a glass of something first? Do sit down.’

  He disappeared into the kitchen and Coco immediately turned to Thrift with an accusing glare.

  ‘He’s going to spank us, isn’t he? You might have told me!’

  ‘I didn’t know!’ Thrift hissed. ‘I didn’t even mean us to come up...’

  She broke off as Quigley reappeared with a bottle, glasses and a corkscrew in his hands. He was humming to himself, Greenselves, provoking another jolt of homesickness in Thrift.

  ‘Chiroubles, well chilled,’ he said as he drew the cork. ‘Just the thing for a warm spring day, I always think.’

  He poured the wine and handed glasses to the girls before taking his own and sitting down, watching them with frank appraisal.

  ‘I must say, I can’t fault the Bureau’s taste,’ he remarked after a moment. ‘Why Georgette, you might almost be mistaken for Mimi Caze, a younger sister but slightly more voluptuous sister, perhaps, and very nearly as well favoured.’

  It was plain from the tone of his voice that he meant what he had said as a compliment, so Thrift ignored her instinctive pique and managed a smile. Quigley chuckled and then went on.

  ‘And I trust your bottoms are as well upholstered as your chests?’

  Thrift found herself blushing, but didn’t realise the implications of what he’d said until Coco rose and turned to flip up her skirts and split her pantalettes. Coco’s bottom was small and sweetly plump, in keeping with her tiny, slender frame but fleshy enough to be thoroughly feminine. Quigley gave an appraising nod, then turned his gaze to Thrift. Blushing hot, but knowing she had little choice in what to do, Thrift followed Coco’s example, turning to lift her clothes and display her bare bottom. Again Quigley nodded, then sat back, taking a sip of his Beaujolais as he admired the view. The girls held their pose and at length he delivered his verdict.

  ‘Very fine indeed, both of you, but of course the Bureau knows my tastes. So, let me see, shall I spank you and send you back to your paymasters with hot bottoms? Shall I have you spank each other? Yes, that would be amusing. Which way around though? Hmm, yes... Georgette, put Coco across your knee.’

  Coco made a face but no objection. Thrift covered herself up and sat down once more, to take Coco gently across her knee, tiny bottom lifted towards Quigley to allow him a clear view of not just her rounded little cheeks, but her quim and anus too. A quick adjustment to Coco’s pantalettes and she was fully ready, her bare bottom quivering ever so slightly as Thrift lifted one knee to bring it all into yet greater prominence.

  ‘I see you know what you’re doing,’ Quigley remarked. ‘Now, we’re going to play a little game. Spank her well, because if I don’t think it’s hard enough you’re going to have to swap places.’

  Thrift nodded, familiar with the sadistic game and knowing full well that she was likely to end up across Coco’s knee whatever she did. Nevertheless, she clearly had to play along, so took a tight grip on Coco’s waist and laid in, spanking with all her force. Coco clearly hadn’t expected anything more than a few playful smacks and immediately went wild, kicking her legs up and down and thrashing in Thrift’s grip as her bottom bounced to the slaps, alternately begging for mercy and swearing revenge.

  Quigley was smiling happily, and when Coco lost control of her anus and emitted a loud, rasping fart he slapped his thigh in merriment. Thrift carried on, easily holding the squealing, kicking Coco in place as the little round bottom cheeks grew first a rosy pink and then red. She was enjoying herself too, with her first opportunity to take revenge on one of the other girls from L’Huître Rose, a
nd while Coco was not the worst of her tormentors she invariably displayed a cruel and impish humour. On the second night she had fisted Thrift and then peed in her cunt, just one of several incidents that made spanking her a thoroughly satisfying task.

  ‘And let that be a lesson to you, you little brat!’ she hissed into Coco’s ear as she finished, but she had immediately taken the sobbing girl into her arms, cuddling her and stroking her bottom as Quigley gave a pleased chuckle.

  ‘Now that’s how to spank a girl,’ he admitted, ‘or at least, one way to spank a girl, so I suppose it would be cruel of me to insist that you take your turn across her lap. Not quite playing the game, don’t you know? You may come over my knee instead, and Coco can watch.’

  Thrift made a face, but she had already resigned herself to a spanking and went to him without resistance. He moved forward in his chair and patted his lap, over which Thrift bent herself in the classic spanking position, so familiar that she once again felt a stab of nostalgia even as her skirts were lifted and her tiny scarlet pantalettes adjusted to show off her bottom. She closed her eyes as Quigley’s hand settled across her cheeks, not a smack but a caress, feeling the texture of her flesh and stroking her skin. It was hard not to enjoy his touch and she found herself biting her lip as he continued his exploration of her bottom, fighting against her own feelings.

  ‘Now you see,’ he remarked, talking to Coco, ‘when I complimented Georgette on how well she spanked you, I should perhaps have said punished rather than spanked. I imagine that’s what you do among yourselves, is it not? But for myself I prefer to take it slowly and gently, enjoying my task and ensuring that I receive a suitable response.’

  He had continued to caress Thrift’s bottom as he spoke, but now began to spank, gentle pats applied to the crests of her cheeks. Coco was watching, curled on the settee with her skirts up and her reddened bottom stuck out so that she could comfort herself. The expression on her face was distinctly resentful, save that one corner of her neat little mouth had begun to twitch into a smile, which grew broader as Thrift’s bottom began to bounce to the smacks.

  ‘Yes,’ Quigley continued, ‘I prefer my girls not merely compliant, but enthusiastic. That takes a little skill, because all but the most experienced and appreciative of girls is sure to resent having her bottom smacked, even when she knows it will make her aroused. That’s why I take my time, aside from the sheer joy of the thing, of course, because it can take quite a while to warm a girl’s bottom sufficiently for her to get over her natural resentment.’

  Thrift shut had her eyes, struggling against the reactions of her body as her bottom grew warm, with her shame and resentment already giving way to arousal beneath Quigley’s skilled hand. He knew how to spank a girl, without question, mixing caresses with the slaps and aiming for the crests and tuck of her cheeks to send the heat to her quim. She’d been done the same way a hundred times, by men and women, young and old, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not, but always with the same result, a hot bottom and a wet, eager cunt.

  Yet now it was worse. Thinking she was French and not used to frequent spankings, he was putting all his skill into what he was doing. Before her bottom was even properly warm she was dizzy with excitement and struggling not to stick it up for more. Only her pride made her hold back, and that was fading, until it was only the fact that Coco was watching which stopped her back from disgracing herself completely. Then the small girl spoke up.

  ‘May I have a go?’

  Quigley hesitated only an instant.

  ‘Yes, why not, but why don’t you take off your dress first?’

  Coco obeyed with hesitation, slipping the bright yellow gown down off her body and stepping free from the puddle of cloth at her feet. She was in a matching corset that left her breasts bare, along with tiny, yellow pantalettes, more or less the same outfit as Thrift and a style favoured by the strippers at L’Huître Rose.

  ‘Very pretty,’ Quigley remarked, ‘but I think we should have those pantalettes off, don’t you?’

  Coco obliged, pushing down her pantalettes and tossing them casually aside to leave her bare, front and rear, red bottom cheeks showing as she came over to where Thrift was being held firmly in place across Quigley’s lap. She immediately applied a hard smack to Thrift’s bottom, high on her cheeks where the slit ended in a shallow V of flesh.

  ‘Aim lower,’ Quigley instructed. ‘One second.’

  He adjusted his grip, tucking one foot around Thrift’s leg to spread her out across his knee, her quim now splayed out on his trouser leg, her cheeks spread wide to leave her anus on full show. Quigley began to spank her again, full across her cheeks, each smack sending a powerful jolt to her cunt, while her anus had begun to squeeze and twitch in involuntary reaction to what was being done to her.

  ‘Imagine her bottom hole as the bull’s-eye of a target,’ Quigley went on. ‘Aim most of your smacks directly across it, or even on her anus, if you like, but around the edge too. Yes, you can smack her thighs if you like. It stings rather more, but the effect is much the same.’

  Coco had already laid one firm smack across the back of Thrift’s legs, and continued to do so, also peppering the tuck of her cheeks and between. Soon Thrift was gasping and shaking her head in reaction, now so thoroughly on heat that she could feel the wet of her cunt dribbling down her mound, something she knew would be obvious to both her tormentors.

  ‘Just two fingers, when you smack her anus,’ Quigley said, ‘or you can cup your hand to do her cunt.’

  Thrift squeaked as Coco took up the offer, applying several firm smacks between Thrift’s open legs, to both cunt and anus.

  ‘Look at how her bottom hole winks,’ Quigley remarked, ‘always a good sign, although frankly, the way her cunt’s dripping we hardly need confirmation that she’s excited. Now we can spank her hard, a cheek each, I think.’

  He’d begun even as he spoke, bringing down a powerful smack across one bare cheek. Coco immediately began to beat time on the other, hard, purposeful slaps delivered with full strength, to leave Thrift with her feet kicking and her fists beating on the carpet, gasping and sobbing in her pain, begging them to slow down. They laughed at her, both thoroughly enjoying her pain and also her helpless excitement, so that as Quigley’s hand slid between her thighs to cup the mound of her cunt all she could managed was a resigned sob.

  She knew exactly what he was doing, but it was what she needed. The palm of his hand was pressed to her open sex, rubbing on her clitoris as they spanked her. Coco began to giggle as Quigley masturbated Thrift, still spanking as hard as she could, on both cheeks and thighs. Unable to hold back, Thrift pushed up her bottom, spreading herself to them as they amused themselves with her body. In just seconds she’d started to come, her red hot cheeks squeezing as her muscles went into contraction, her cunt pulsing to squeeze out gout after gout of thick white juice and her anus winking between her cheeks.

  ‘That was quick,’ Quigley remarked, surprised, ‘but just as well, really, because I am very definitely ready to take this to its natural conclusion. Off with your dress and pantalettes, my girl.’

  He let go of Thrift, who tumbled from his lap. She knew what was coming, more or less, and stripped down to her corset, stockings and shoes as instructed while he unzipped his fly to pull out a thick, brownish penis. It went straight into her mouth, then Coco’s as the two girls got down side by side between his open knees, taking turns to suck on his cock and kiss and lick at his balls. Thrift had surrendered herself to the inevitable, her pride completely gone as she used her mouth to pleasure the man who had just spanked her bottom and masturbated her to orgasm with such skill.

  His cock was already half hard, and quickly swelled up in their mouths, until they were handling a thick, dark erection, the head swollen with pressure, on which Thrift began to suck as Coco masturbated him into her mouth. He gave a low groan at the treatment and
Thrift braced herself for a mouthful of spunk, but he pulled her gently from his cock, speaking as he did so.

  ‘Not just yet, my dear. I have plans for those delectable bottoms of yours.’

  ‘We’ve been spanked!’ Coco protested.

  ‘That wasn’t what I had in mind,’ he replied. ‘Now bend over the settee, both of you.’

  Both girls obeyed, Coco now so wet that her cunt was dripping on the carpet as she crawled across to the settee. Thrift came beside her, lifting her bottom for rear entry as Coco cuddled up to her, their mouths meeting in an open kiss after only a moment’s reluctance. Quigley stood up, admiring the two girls as he removed his lower garments, in no hurry and breaking off occasionally to take a swallow of wine and to nurse his erection. Only when he was naked from the waist down but for socks held up with miniature suspenders did he come across to the two girls, kneeling behind Thrift.

  She stuck her bottom up, submitting to penetration. His cock touched her flesh, rubbing in the wet of her cunt, then pressing to her hole and up, filling her with thick, hot meat. He took her by her hips and began to fuck her, sliding himself in and out with his eyes glued to her well spanked bottom and spread cheeks. The fucking lasted only a few moments, before he had turned his attention to Coco, entering her the same way, but his hand had stayed on Thrift’s bottom.

  A finger penetrated her cunt, pushing deep to pull out juice and rub it on her anus. She gave a little sob against Coco’s mouth at the realisation that she was to be sodomised, but held her position as his fingers worked slowly in past the tight constriction of her anus and up her bottom. He was still fucking Coco as he fingered Thrift’s bottom, until she’d begun to wonder if he’d be unable to hold back, taking his orgasm up her friend’s cunt and sparing her a buggering.

  ‘And now,’ he grunted, ‘for my very favourite thing, after spanking, which is to fuck a young girl’s bottom. Hold your cheeks open for me, Georgette.’