Bad Penny (16 page)

‘No, Miss Belstone,' I pleaded shrilly. ‘No!'

She ignored my protests, dragging me towards the chamber pot by my hair. She was strong, and I could do nothing as my face was brought closer and closer to the pot. She pulled off my mob cap and twisted her hand hard into my hair, leaving my head bare so that I would get the full benefit of what was about to be done to me. I was shaking violently as she pulled my face over the pot and held it there, inches above what I'd done in it.

‘And in it goes,' she said with a cruel delight.

She pushed my head clown, right into the chamber pot, forcing my face into my own pee. I went under and then it was in my mouth and up my nose, in my hair and all over my face. It was too much; reaching back, I delved into my skirts and found my pussy, pulling the flap forward to get at myself and beginning to masturbate frantically. She kept my face under until I was desperate to breathe, then pulled my head back to leave me gagging and spluttering, my face and hair dripping and filthy.

My face went back in the pot as I started to come. I swallowed some of my pee and then choked on the bit of tissue I had used to dry myself. I was unable to keep my mouth shut as I came; indeed, I didn't want to but was revelling in the taste of my own pee and humiliation of having my face in it. The orgasm was brilliant, a frantic, out-of-control peak that left me weak and shivering. Vicky kept my face well in the chamber pot until I had finished coming, let me take a breath and then dipped my face in it one more time out of pure sadism.

‘Vicky!' I heard from behind me as my pee once more bubbled into my mouth.

Vicky let go and I knelt up, but of course I couldn't open my eyes.

‘You dirty little sluts!' I heard Amber's voice.

‘You can't leave them for a minute,' Anderson put in. ‘We should have chained them up in the cellar.'

‘Yes, we should,' Amber agreed. ‘Vicky, take Penny and wash her face, then Anderson and I will interview you in his study.'

Of course she was playing, just as we had been, but there was at least a hint of real decision in her voice, although not anger. Vicky led me to the bathroom and bathed my face in cold water so that I could open my eyes. We were giggling together as we went downstairs, thoroughly pleased with ourselves and more than ready to accommodate whatever Amber and Anderson could come up with.

The study door was shut and, when we knocked, we were told to wait outside, for all the world like schoolgirls outside the headmistress's study. We put our backs to the wall and waited, feeling the thrill of trepidation at what was coming. My bottom was one great bruise and I knew that Amber would spare me further punishment. Unless, of course, she chose to cane my thighs, which was not at all impossible. The prospect was actually quite frightening as, while a caning on the bottom gives both mental and physical pleasure, having my thighs caned produces pleasure only in its mental aspect. I determined to let her anyway, and not use my stop word as to let Vicky have her full pleasure of me and then deny Amber would hardly have been fair.

As it was, I was wrong. After a while, Amber called out, an imperious summons that brooked no refusal. Vicky and I trooped into the study and went to stand in front of the desk with our heads hung in shame. Anderson was seated behind the desk with Amber standing at his side, one hand on his chair.

‘We have decided,' he said after a pause to allow us to get thoroughly scared, ‘to make the punishment fit the crime. Penny, turn around and pull up your skirts.'

I obeyed, displaying my naked bottom to them through the hole of the still undone combinations. Anderson steepled his fingers, admiring my bottom with a detached expression.

‘Twenty-four, I make it,' he declared, and I realised that he had been counting the tramlines on my buttocks.

‘I agree,' Amber added. ‘Twenty-four strokes applied after a hand spanking and then her face pushed into the contents of her own chamber pot: quite disgusting.'

‘Absolutely disgusting,' Anderson agreed. ‘Yet, Victoria, I am sure you'll agree that justice demands that you take the same punishment.'

‘Yes, sir,' Vicky answered meekly.

‘Good, I'm glad you agree,' he continued, ‘because that is what is going to happen. Fetch the pot, but do not empty it.'

‘Sir?' she queried.

‘We feel,' Amber explained, ‘that for true justice to be done, your punishment should be slightly in excess of that which you inflicted on poor Penny. Therefore we will allow your fluids to mingle and trust that the knowledge adds to your chagrin.'

‘It will, miss,' Vicky answered and scampered from the room.

I waited for them to punish me and was a little surprised when nothing happened. Vicky returned quickly, placed the chamber pot to one side and returned to her place in front of the desk. She had her hands folded in her lap, and I could see that she was trembling.

‘It so happens,' Anderson said coolly, ‘that by good fortune we managed to purchase no less than six fine malacca canes, still wrapped in the original oil paper from which they were despatched from the factory at some time prior to the last war. We intend to test one on you but, as we are such nice, kindly people, we will let you have a nice warm-up spanking first.'

Vicky said nothing but made a little whimpering sound in her throat.

‘Come across my knee,' Amber said benevolently.

Vicky didn't hesitate, waiting until Amber had seated herself comfortably on a suitable chair and then draping herself elegantly over my mistress's lap. Amber took her arm and twisted it into the small of her back, just as Vicky had done to me. I watched in rapture as her skirts came up. For all Amber and Anderson's clothing, I was still enjoying my Victorian fantasy and was thinking of Vicky as my stern and unyielding governess, about to be put through the unendurably humiliating experience of taking a spanking from my mother while I watched.

The black bombazine skirt came up and was piled on to Vicky's back. Her underskirt followed; then the three petticoats, one by one. I could hear her breathing as Amber opened her drawers, and knew exactly how she felt. Not that I had a trace of sympathy. I was a malicious little brat and took nothing but pleasure in the exposure and punishment of my governess.

Vicky's bottom came bare, the pert, muscular buttocks thrust high and open, her pussy peeping out sweetly from between her thighs and her anus a dimple of darker flesh in the softly furred valley between her open buttocks. Amber started to smack her, gently at first, with her fingertips, but becoming more severe as Vicky's bottom began to warm. She took it better than I had, I'll give her that, but then just about everybody does. Her bottom was quickly red and she was absolutely purring with pleasure, which made it a bit difficult to think of her as chastened and sorrowful.

She played her part well, though, thanking Amber and kissing her shoes ever so sweetly. Anderson told her curtly to bend over the desk, which she did, with her reddened bottom stuck up ready for the cane.

They got one of the malaccas out, a beautiful but terrifying object with a crook handle and nodes along its length at a spacing of perhaps three to four inches. It looked really wicked, but no more so than Amber and Anderson's smiles. Vicky looked round, her lower lip stuck out and trembling as she saw what was about to be used on her bottom. The dragon cane she'd taken to me was no instrument for novices, yet it paled in comparison to the cane that Anderson was now handling with all the delight of a schoolboy who has discovered a particularly fine new conker.

I was profoundly grateful that it wasn't about to be used on me, or at least not on this occasion. I knew I'd enjoy it when it happened, but that didn't stop me being scared of it. Nor did it Vicky, who was trembling so hard that the flesh of her bottom was wobbling ever so prettily.

‘Ladies first,' Anderson said, offering the cane to Amber.

‘Not at all,' she insisted. ‘She's your tart, you should beat her first.'

‘Thank you,' Anderson replied and gave Amber a polite inclination of his head.

He came round to where he could get at Vicky, gave a couple of experimental strokes through the air to get the feel of the cane and then brought it down hard across his girlfriend's bare bottom. She yelped and jumped, not surprisingly, but counted the stroke off and once more stuck her bottom out.

I watched her being beaten with a curious mixture of delight and trepidation. It takes a lot to really get to her, at least by my standards but, by the time Anderson had given her his twelve strokes of the malacca, she was sobbing and squirming over the table, wriggling her bum around and pushing it out in the most wanton display. I could see the white juice on her pussy and knew that she was getting very, very high on her punishment. It must have hurt crazily, though, because her bottom was a mass of wide, dark tramlines that made the ones on my bum look really rather mild. I knew that in due course I was going to get the same, which was what balanced my pleasure in watching her punished with concern.

Amber took over, adding to the mess Anderson had made of Vicky's bottom and also giving her three across her thighs. These were delivered through the cotton and lace of Vicky's fancy drawers, yet made her yell more than any of the ones put across her bum. By the end she was in a real state, breathing hard and with a trickle of white juice running from her pussy down into her pubic hair. I love the sight of a girl's pussy from the rear, especially when she's really excited, and Vicky was. I had more or less abandoned my Victorian fantasy and wanted to lick her from behind, which would have been a most unsuitable act for a well-brought-up young lady to perform on her governess.

‘Good,' Amber announced, placing the malacca cane on the desk and standing back a pace. ‘Now you may use your potty.'

Vicky turned her a truly wonderful look, full of pleasure and shame, pain and longing. I watched as she pulled up her skirts and split her drawers wide, then lowered her bottom delicately on to the chamber pot. Her eyes closed in bliss as she started to pee, the golden liquid gushing out from her pussy and splashing into the bowl. Her mouth opened and she gave a deep sigh of contentment. We had played before, but I had never seen her in such a state of rapture before the actual moment of orgasm.

She was destined to have her face pushed in it, but I knew she'd never get that far when she cut her stream off and put her hands to her pussy. We let her do it, not wanting to interfere if she had reached the point where she could no longer resist coming and aware that there would always be another opportunity for completing her punishment.

She was sat on the potty with her dress right up and her legs wide, showing us every detail of her pussy as she rubbed gently at her clit. Her face was set in an expression of serene pleasure. She began to lose it as she started to come, her mouth opening wider and her eyes coming open to look down at her pussy. She pressed her skirts back and leant forward so that she could see, and then, as she started to come, pee erupted from around her frantically rubbing finger. It sprayed everywhere, all over her dress and her thighs, wetting the carpet and spattering the front of the desk. I'd never before seen a girl pee and orgasm simultaneously and watched in open-mouthed delight as Vicky climaxed as she squatted over the chamber pot. She was breathing fast and making little whimpering noises, then gasping out her pleasure as her pee continued to squirt out.

My eyes had been riveted on Vicky but, as her orgasm subsided, I saw that Anderson had his cock out and was nursing an erection. He glanced at Amber and she came around the desk, tugging at her belt buckle as she went. I watched as her jeans came down over her magnificent bottom, her panties going with them. She bent forward, presenting Anderson with her rear for him to enter the vagina or anus as he pleased. He stood up with his cock in his hand but, instead of going to Amber, he took Vicky by the head and thrust his cock into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked willingly, then opened them in alarm as he pulled out and began to push her head down.

She scrambled back from the chamber pot. I could see the contents, evidence of just how bad she'd been. She groaned aloud as he pushed her head down and then unceremoniously stuffed her face into it. I hadn't expected him to do it to her just after she'd come, but she'd put up no resistance and I was delighted that he had.

‘Right,' he said sternly, ‘keep your face in your mess while Amber and I enjoy ourselves. Penny, lift her skirts and clean her up, with your tongue.'

I was shivering again as I pulled Vicky's skirts up over her well-whipped bottom. I pulled the drawers apart and exposed her, swallowing as I saw her wet pussy and the brownish dimple of her bumhole. Anderson was watching me, and Amber was leaning around as well, only Vicky couldn't watch me, and that was because she had her face in the contents of her potty.

I stuck my tongue out and leant forward, applying it to Vicky's anus. As I began to lick her bottom, Anderson moved towards the delightful female who was offering herself so submissively, bum up over his study desk. I knew that there was no other man to whom she would make such a present of herself, but then Anderson was born lucky.

10

The Puppy Girl

I threw the journal down on top of the heavy cloth-bound book of which it contained a synopsis. It was finally complete, nearly five years of work compressed into a few pages of highly detailed information, every detail of which was now stamped on my mind. Over the past week I had read and re-read it innumerable times, spending the rest of my time wandering around the department looking lost. I stared out of the window for a few minutes and was just reaching for my thesis again when someone knocked on the door, opening it without waiting for my response. The head of an ancient porter appeared around the door, then his hand as he dropped an envelope on the bench.