One Week in the Private House (39 page)

Try it on,' Headman said softly.

Jem looked in the mirror as her unsteady hands fussed with buttons and straps. Yes, the little dress would suit the girl in the mirror: she was such a petite thing, and with that cheeky heart-shaped face and that mass of red curls she'd look just like an adorable little girl.

She couldn't work out how to get the dress on. She had butterflies in her tummy; she felt like a teenager again, dressing up for a date with a boy she really wanted. She pulled the garment on over her head.

It fitted. It had obviously been made for her. With nervous fingers she tied the trailing ends of the waistband into a big pink bow behind her back, tightening the elasticated waistband. The skirt, with built-in lace petticoats, was full, pleated and very short at the front: the hem was about half-way between her knees and her crotch when she leant forward, but when she stood straight or made any movement the fullness of the cut lifted the hem. The skirt was supposed to button doy/n the back, but the buttons were undone and the material of the skirt and the petticoats had been ruched like a pair of stage curtains, framing Jem's bottom. The bodice of the dress, made of the same candy, striped material but with a lace panel at the front, was a tight fit. It ended just below Jem's breasts, and was connected to a white beribboned yoke by pink straps that crossed between the breasts and between the shoulderblades, and were held on by big pink buttons. Also connecting the yoke to the bodice were large puff sleeves, trimmed with elasticated lace where they ended half-way down Jem's upper arms.

Jem stared at her reflection. She didn't know whether she was delighted, outraged or ashamed. The outfit was a sugary confection of ribbons, bows and lace, a Hollywood musical version of a cute dress for a cute little girl. She found herself thinking whimsically that she'd need a pink ribbon for her hair.

Her naked breasts, swelling above the candy-striped cotton and white lace, separated by crossed ribbons, and jiggling freely with Jem's slightest movement, were a constant reminder of the perversity of the costume. Jem couldn't help being shamefully aware of them. The dress was no less obscene when viewed from behind: when Jem turned and looked over her shoulder to see her reflection's buttocks not merely on display but gift-wrapped in lace and bows, she felt herself blushing in embarrassment.

'I think only the naughtiest of little girls would show themselves off in such a disgraceful manner,' Headman said as he walked towards Jem. 'Don't you agree?'

Jem turned her head away from the mirror to find Headman in front of her. Her breasts, almost touching his chest, had never felt more exposed. Jem herself had never felt more confused. This was supposed to be punishment. She was being enslaved. She
tried
to feel anger and
resentment,
but instead she was ashamed and disturbingly aroused. 'Yes, Master,' she heard herself say. 'I agree. I'm very naughty.'

'Don't worry,' Headman said. 'I promise that you'll be spanked soundly every day. There will be regular whippings, too. As much punishment as you can take. Now what do you say?'

Thank you, Master.' Jem realised that her gratitude was genuine. She suddenly wanted to cry.

Something in the back of her mind reminded her that she didn't cry. Not ever, leastways in public. She sniffed, and smiled at Headman. 'What next, big man?'

Headman stepped back. He looked at her suspiciously, i think it would be wise to keep you restrained,' he said.

Damn, Jem thought.

'Leave the shoes and socks for now. I think the ankle cuffs and the chain are more suitable. Now, where can I put you while I explain your new role in the Private House? Ah, I have it. Come and make friends with your ex-colleague Lesley.'

Jem took hesitant small steps towards the centre of the room, while Headman released Lesley from the pillar against which she had been chained. Jem was grateful that Lesley, still encased in rubber, couldn't see the candy-striped costume. Headman led Lesley to meet Jem.

'Stand close to her, Jem,' Headman said. 'No, much closer than that. Embrace her.'

Jem hobbled forward until her toes were touching Lesley's. She touched Lesley's shoulder, to let Lesley know that someone was very close to her, and then put her hands on Lesley's waist.

Headman guffawed. 'I can see you need some assistance,' he said, striding up to stand behind Jem. With one tug he undid the bow at her back, and then he paused. 'Bottom out for a smack,' he said lightly. Jem swallowed, pushed back her hips, and felt her buttocks parting the lacy curtains at the back of her skirt. 'Good girl,' Headman said, and whacked his hand down twice.

Jem gasped. She had tightened her grip on Lesley's waist.

'Say thank you,' Headman said. 'And then ask for more. And ask properly.'

Lesley would hear her. However softly she spoke, Lesley couldn't fail to hear and understand. It had been years since Jem had been ashamed of anything to do with her sexuality, but now she found herself blushing and stammering in embarrassment. And she knew that her vulva was soaking wet with excitement.

Thank you for spanking me, Master,' she said. 'Please could I have some more smacks?'

Headman's hand came down twice more, Jem felt her buttocks jiggling from the blows, and the stinging warmth spreading across her bottom and into her sex.

Thank you, Master,' she said firmly.

i begin to think you'll surprise both of us,' Headman said. 'You have a natural aptitude for slavery that was not noted when you were vetted on the outside. I must reprimand Miss Morelli. But that's enough smacks for now. There are many, many more to come. No need to rush things. Stand up straight.'

Jem stood face to rubber-masked face with Lesley. Headman went behind Lesley, reached forward, grasped one end of Jem's waistband ribbon in each hand, and crossed the ends behind Lesley's back. He pulled slowly but strongly, and Jem and Lesley were forced together until candy-striped cotton met sleek rubber. Headman knotted the ribbon tightly.

The costumes of both women left their breasts completely uncovered. Jem's were round and full but very firm, with pert nipples. Lesley's were even larger, and were softer and more pendulous than Jem's, with broad areolas. Jem, who had no inhibitions about enjoying other women's bodies, thoroughly enjoyed the sensation of her hard nipples sinking into the warm, soft mounds, still showing the faint traces of the whipping that Jem had herself administered, as the two women's breasts were squashed together. Jem was a little shorter than Lesley, and her nipples pushed into Lesley's breasts just on the lowest point of the circumference of her areolas, so that Lesley's nipples were almost resting on Jem's.

Headman grabbed Jem's hands and pulled the top of her body even further towards Lesley's, so that the women's breasts were flattened against each other and made four ovals of flesh squashed between the two ribcages. Jem tilted her head back slightly so that Lesley's soft lips met her own, rather than her nose. For a moment both women were still. Then, tentatively, Jem moved her lips. She felt Lesley respond by opening her mouth slightly. Jem smiled and Lesley, feeling the movement, smiled too. They kissed, gently at first, then more passionately as they each felt their own and their partner's nipples stiffen.

Meanwhile Jem was aware that Headman was once again attaching chains to the cuffs at her wrists. Her hands were resting on Lesley's back, but Headman pulled the wrists downwards and then, Jem judged, he passed the chains through the rings on her ankle cuffs. Suddenly the chains were pulled tight, and Jem found that she couldn't lift her hands above Lesley's waist. Nor, she realised, could she move them very far to either side. In fact the only place she could rest her hands was on Lesley's swelling, naked and comprehensively punished bottom.

She did so. The flesh was soft and warm. She felt Lesley's mouth open in surprise, and then resume kissing as Jem's hands wandered across the heated curves. Here and there Jem's fingertips encountered a raised line, which she presumed was a weal left by Headman's riding crop, and followed it. When such a line stopped at the vertical valley that divided Lesley's bottom, Jem's fingers continued into the valley and circled towards Lesley's anus for a few moments before emerging again to caress the burning skin. At such moments Jem felt Lesley's kisses become more urgent, and she responded eagerly. Lesley's fingers found their way past the ruched folds of material at the back of Jem's skirt, and soon Jem's bottom was receiving the same attention as she was giving to Lesley's, including extended ticklings and probings of Jem's puckered arsehole. Lesley was very good at kissing, and had wickedly intrusive fingers, and Jem's mind was disappearing into a fog of sensual delight.

Jem wasn't conscious of deciding to start smacking Lesley. It seemed to follow naturally from their activities, and Jem was almost surprised when she heard the slap of her own hand against Lesley's skin. Lesley interrupted their kissing long enough to murmur, 'Not fair,' and then she forced her lips down on Jem's and pushed her tongue into

Jem's mouth. Jem felt Lesley's right hand leave her bottom, and knew what was about to happen. A stinging blow, only part cushioned by a fold of lace petticoat, landed on her left buttock. She kissed Lesley fiercely, and felt the hand being raised again. This time Lesley altered her aim and successfully avoided the material of Jem's skirt. The smack landed across both buttocks, far down the central divide, where the two hemispheres begin to part and reveal the split sex-pouch beneath. Jem gasped. She felt her nipples become even harder, pressed against Lesley's within the compressed cushions of flesh. Lesley giggled, and smacked Jem again in exactly the same place, so that her fingers tapped against Jem's sex just after her palm landed on Jem's buttocks. Jem lifted her left hand as far as the chain permitted, and brought it down on Lesley's rump. Lesley's squeal was muffled by Jem's kisses.

The mutual spanking went on for several minutes, with each woman trying to elicit a louder yelp from the other. Lesley had an advantage because her hands were not bound, and she could therefore deliver harder slaps. The design of Jem's dress, too, obliged Lesley to concentrate her smacks across the centre of Jem's bottom, an area which soon felt very warm and tender. Jem, with her wrists tethered to her ankles, was able to use less force; but Lesley's bottom had been on the receiving end of a lengthy and severe punishment which had ended less than half an hour previously, and even Jem's restricted, smacks produced a stream of gasps and giggled curses from Lesley's lips.

The smacking decreased in intensity from time to time as both women seemed to decide simultaneously that they needed to explore each other's anuses or stretch forward to pinch each other's sopping labia. Whenever Jem thought that Lesley was on the point of getting lost in the spiral of an orgasm, she smacked Lesley's bottom as hard as she could, whereupon Lesley would retaliate and another session of spanking would ensue.

Jem, who knew that she herself kept approaching the brink of a climax, had escaped from her predicament into a sexual paradise. She could have stayed forever with her breasts and her mouth pressed against the luscious Lesley's, spanking and teasing and being spanked and teased.

A line of stinging pain flashed across her bottom.

That's enough,' Headman said. That was a very entertaining display, Jem, but I tire of reminding you that my pleasure is paramount, not yours. Now both of you keep your hands motionless while I address Jem.'

Jem turned her head. She was so aroused that the tickle of Lesley's breath against her neck and the heat of Lesley's hand resting on her waist made her tremble, but she forced herself to pay attention to Headman. Somewhere in the recesses of her sex-befuddled mind she still held a determination to escape; to win.

Headman was sitting behind his leather-topped desk. He looked incongruous there with his grizzled, muscular body naked but for the criss-crossing belts and chains. He placed his fingertips together like a fussy professor about to deliver his verdict on a rival's treatise.

'Your punishment, Jem, will be continuous and without term. At some time in the future I might decide to stop it. But if I were you I wouldn't count on it. I suspect that you might prove endlessly fascinating.'

Jem half expected a consoling kiss from Lesley, and then realised that with her ears covered by the rubber hood Lesley couldn't hear the doom that Headman was pronouncing. Jem felt very alone.

i have employed whipping slaves before,' Headman mused, 'but only on a temporary basis. Each one was, if I remember rightly, an unwilling slave who was being punished for a specific misdeed. You, Jem, will be the first to occupy the position permanently. You should consider it an honour: none of the others could have stood it for more than a few weeks. To be fair to them, it must be said that they were pushed in at the deep end, as it were. I'm going to train you up slowly, Jem. I'll start you in a veritable paddling pool of punishments, and soon you'll be an Olympic athlete of a whipping slave. I trust I haven't stretched the metaphor too far.

'Once you are trained, the regime will consist of a large number of disparate elements. I don't think you'll be bored. In the first place, you will be in attendance on me at all times. You will sleep at the foot of my bed, you will take your meals at or under my table. You will therefore be available for my private, intimate chastisements whenever the whim takes me, but as I tend to be regular in my habits you can expect to be roused each morning with a spanking and bedded each night under the whip.