Peter propped himself up against the bar and took a sip
from his glass of brandy as he cast a critical and approving eye over the club.
The take at the door had been good, so good that he could seriously consider
giving up his job as a cab driver and concentrating on the club and party
scene. Now that he was getting more people through the door he could also consider
bigger premises, better equipment, hopefully building the reputation of Club S
as the number one party night for fetishists in
London. With that, and the regular spanking parties, he might eventually be
able to give up renting and put a deposit down on a house. Meanwhile, it was a
lot of fun.
Directly opposite him was a tall St Andrew’s cross fixed
to one of the pillars supporting the ceiling to the basement premises he’d
hired for the night. On the cross was one of his regular girls - Michelle to
her friends, Candy Doll to the punters and club goers - whose long, naturally
blonde hair, petite frame and fleshy little bottom cheeks always made her a
firm favourite. She was stark naked, which was fairly normal for her, with her
wrists and ankles fixed in place and her bottom pushed out to the whip wielded
by his House Domina, Miss Lash, otherwise known as Karen. Fairly slight in
build but made tall by six-inch heels, she was in a PCV catsuit that showed off
every contour of her slender body, including a nicely rounded bottom that not
even he was permitted to touch, let alone spank.
A crowd had collected around the two girls, mainly men
but with a fair sprinkling of women, watching in amusement and arousal as
Michelle’s sweetly turned bottom cheeks were slowly whipped up to a glowing
red. Karen was good, using the heavy, suede tailed flogger with skill and
precision both across Michelle’s bottom and up between her thighs. The
technique made for an excellent show, with Michelle’s position ensuring that
those watching got a fine display of her wet, shaven cunt and soft, pink anal
star.
Certainly the audience were fascinated, with one man’s
cock already in his girlfriend’s hand and another couple kissing as they
watched sidelong. There was more going on elsewhere; one sweetly plump girl
over her boyfriend’s knee with her rubber skirt turned up as she was spanked,
several men on their knees to the more dominate women, either licking and
kissing at high-heeled shoes and boots or simply grovelling for the sake of it,
while in the shadows of one corner an enormously fat man who appeared to be
dressed as Friar Tuck was having his cock sucked by a girl who couldn’t have
been more than half his age.
Peter allowed himself a happy but complacent nod, pleased
to see his guests enjoying themselves but too familiar with what was going on
to take more than casual interest. His tastes had stayed the same since his
days at Broadfields, first and foremost for pretty girls with well-turned
bottoms, preferably spanked until they were thoroughly on heat and then fucked
or even buggered. Yet with one club and two spanking parties every month, mere
voyeurism did little more than wet his appetite, allowing his arousal to build
slowly until he could take his satisfaction at leisure with the end of the
evening. He was now ready, and keen to improve his acquaintance with the
delectable Michelle.
He glanced at his watch. It was shortly past 2am, the
time at which the bar licence expired, but with a hundred people still in the
club and having fun it seemed foolish to close down. Outside, the streets of
Putney would be quiet, with just a few late revellers heading home, while the
music was only faintly audible from the door at the top of the stairs that led
down to the basement. The bar manager didn’t seem to care in any case, still
serving drinks while trying to admire Michelle’s well spread rear view at the
same time. She was now close to orgasm, gasping and shuddering as the heavy
suede thongs smacked up between her thighs to an even, purposeful rhythm.
Again Peter nodded, this time in admiration for Karen’s
skill with the whip, and as Michelle at last cried out in ecstasy he joined in
the applause before stepping forward to give her bottom a couple of firm
smacks. She was in the dreamy, satisfied state she always reached after a good
whipping, especially if she’d been brought to orgasm, and correspondingly
vulnerable. Peter lost no time in taking advantage, supporting her half limp
body as he and Karen unfastened the straps of the St Andrew’s Cross and letting
his hands wander freely over her body. She merely purred, nestling against his
chest and kissing at his neck, even when his finger slipped between her cheeks
to tease at the mouth of her anus.
‘I’ll take it from here, thanks, Karen,’ he stated.
‘Sure, have fun,’ Karen answered. ‘You’d better take her
keys and money.’
Peter picked up the small blue purse from beside the
cross and Karen returned to her more usual work of whipping and tormenting
those men who lacked regular playmates of their own.
‘Are you going to spank me, Peter?’ Michelle asked, her
voice thick with arousal and perhaps a little drink. ‘Why don’t you take me
into a quiet corner and spank me?’
She said the final two words with immense relish, while
his cock had already begun to stiffen in reaction to her body and the state of
abandoned submission she’d been driven to by the whipping. Lifting under
beneath her bottom, he slung her over his shoulder, making her giggle as her
rear view was put on show once more. The audience parted as he stepped away
from the cross, with many an amused or envious glance and one or two slaps
across Michelle’s bottom for those who knew her well enough to take the
liberty.
Peter was grinning as he carried her to one of the club’s
numerous alcoves, glass of brandy in hand as he used her bottom to push his way
through the crowd. Quite a few people had followed, eager to watch whatever he
had in mind for her, which made it all the more enjoyable as he settled himself
down and turned her across his knee. She gave no resistance at all, passively
accepting her fate as her bottom was adjusted into spanking position and his
hand settled across her hot rear cheeks. His cock was now hard
and he was thoroughly looking forward to dealing with her before putting her on
her knees to suck him off as she knelt on the grubby floor with her bottom
pushed well out for the sake of her own humiliation and the enjoyment of the
crowd. He’d been threatening to do it to her for some time and decided to
tease, both to make sure she was willing and to bring her feelings of shame up
higher still.
‘This time, Candy Doll,’ he chided as he began to spank
her, ‘this time you’re going to have to say thank you for your spanking in the
traditional fashion, not with a quick peck on the cheek, not with a wiggle of
your fat little arse, but by getting down on your knees and sucking my penis.
Is that understood?’
Her sigh of pleasure was all the answer he needed, and as
he continued to spank she had pushed her bottom higher still, making a
thoroughly rude display of herself, with her wet, ready cunt and the soft pink
dimple of her anus flaunted to the audience. Peter was soon ready to move on to
the cock sucking stage, but made a point of showing off, talking to the dozen
or so eager watchers as he continued to spank.
‘As you no doubt notice, she’s an eager little slut and
thoroughly enjoys a good spanking, which makes this the ideal opportunity to
demonstrate a few techniques to those among you who may be less familiar with
the art of chastising errant females. For instance, using just the tips of my
fingers, like so, produces a sharp stinging sensation and is ideal for the
first few smacks, to warm her rump before the spanking really begin. Still, as
Candy’s bum is already hot enough to fry eggs, firm slaps delivered with the
open palm are more appropriate, especially when delivered to the fattest part
of her bottom, where her cheeks tuck down to either side of her disgracefully
wet cunt. Or, should you wish a particularly noisy spanking, perhaps to attract
attention to what’s being done to her, you simply cup your hand, like so.’
He had demonstrated each technique as he talked, while
Michelle had kept her bottom high and her thighs wide, deliberately showing
herself off. Most of the audience were regulars and merely grinned, familiar
with the game, but one, a tall man in black leather, spoke up.
‘And how much do you have to pay her to behave like
that?’
There was something not quite right about his tone of
voice, but Peter was enjoying himself too much to worry and pushed his concern
aside as he gave an answer designed far more to add to Michelle’s feelings than
to answer the question.
‘Pay her? Not a penny, not today. But yes, you can pay to
roast her fat little rump, if you’re so inclined, because she’s a little whore
as well as a tart, isn’t that right, Candy?’
‘Yes,’ Michelle sobbed, twisting around to make eye
contact with the tall man. ‘You can spank me, sir, if you like?’
‘Now there’s an offer that’s hard to refuse,’ Peter went on,
‘and given that you’re a guest at my club I’m even prepared to postpone my
blow-job for a while so that you can give the little slut what for. Okay,
Candy...’
‘I’d rather not,’ the man broke in.
‘Suit yourself,’ Peter answered and continued to spank Michelle,
only a little less enthusiastically until the man suddenly moved away through
the crowd.
The others had no such qualms, pressing close, one man
even extending a hand to stroke at the hot, red skin of Michelle’s bottom, at
which Peter raised a cautionary finger.
‘I don’t think you know her, sir, in which case it’s
polite to ask first. Well, Candy Doll, can the gentleman touch you up?’
Michelle responded with a soft moan that both Peter and
the man chose to accept as acquiescence. Peter cocked up one knee to make her
more fully available and the man began to stroke her flesh, only to pull back
at a sudden commotion in main body of the club; voices raised in protest or
command, angry shouts, then a single clear instruction.
‘This is the police. Remain where you are.’
‘Bugger that,’ Peter muttered, drained his brandy and
made for the fire escape, towing Michelle behind him.
He’d always been aware of the chance of being raided,
paying the owners of the club in cash and never using his real name, while he’d
also worked out an escape strategy. The fire-escape doors led up to the street
and were sure to be guarded, but they also continued up into the building
above, where several small firms kept their offices. He’d also passed on his
plan to his staff, but Michelle was frightened and more drunk than he’d
realised, also naked, but there was no time to retrieve her clothes. Instead he
gave her his jacket, taking a moment to enjoy the way her reddened bottom
cheeks peeped out from beneath the hem even as he hurried her up the stairs in
front of him.
They’d reached the second floor before he heard the fire
door slam at the bottom of the stairwell. Cursing, he hurried Michelle on and
up, reaching the door to the roofs with the sound of heavy boots now pounding
up the stairs behind him. He thrust Michelle through the door, only to have her
sit down on the casing of a skylight, while it was plain that he had next to no
chance of out running the policeman across roofs even without her. Again he
cursed, as he stepped behind the door, where he waited as the sound of boots
drew closer and stopped. The policeman was directly behind the door, staring in
surprise at the naked Michelle. Peter kicked out, slamming the door closed and
sending the man behind it back down the stairs.
Guilt and worry hit him immediately, somewhat alleviated
by the furious cursing and threats from behind him as he grabbed Michelle and
hustled her away. The roof of their building was flat, and the next, which was
on the corner of the street. Gabled roofs rose beyond, dipping gently towards
the river and Peter was quickly out of sight, while the urgency of their flight
and the cool night air had picked Michelle up a good deal.
Now helping each other, they crossed a series of roofs to
where the fire escape from the local cinema led down to an alley, from where
they risked a dash to his car. The one-way system left him no choice but to
drive past the front of the club, where police vehicles were parked angled half
across the street, with people milling around on the pavement and others being
hustled into the back of vans.
‘Bastards!’ he spat. ‘Why can’t they leave us in peace?
We weren’t hurting anybody.’
‘They hate sex,’ Michelle answered, ‘especially kinky
sex. A lot of people do.’
‘Only a minority,’ Peter insisted, ‘but then again it
only takes one arsehole in the wrong place. Did you focus on that guy in the
leathers, the one who asked how much you charge? He was one of them, I’m sure
of it, gathering evidence.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. Obviously we’ll
have to find a new venue, and not too close, but maybe we ought to take a break
for a while, just in case.’
‘What about the spanking parties? Please don’t cancel,
Peter. I’ve got my rent to pay, and bills, and...’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll go ahead.’
Michelle didn’t answer, but rested her head against the
window, with the yellow light from the street lamps flickering over her face as
they drove. With her pensive expression and one small breast showing in the gap
at the front of his jacket she looked pretty and vulnerable, making him feel
both protective and angry. His initial guilt for kicking the door shut in the
policeman’s face had faded. They’d simply been enjoying themselves, a group of
consenting adults indulging their private fantasies, harming nobody. To judge
from what he’d seen outside the club some of them had even been taken into
custody. That number almost certainly included Karen, who never backed down to
anybody and was sure to have told the police exactly what she thought.
‘Oh my God, my purse!’ Michelle exclaimed suddenly.
‘It’s in the pocket of the jacket you’re wearing,’ Peter
answered.
‘Thank you,’ Michelle breathed, then glanced towards him.
‘Will you stay with me? I’m really shaken.’
‘Of course,’ Peter promised. ‘I hope Karen’s okay.’
‘So do I. Turn left here.’
They’d pulled into the small, red brick estate where
Michelle lived, and which Peter had visited only to drop her off after one of
his monthly spanking parties. He’d had another girl with him at the time,
making it impractical to explore their mutual feelings any further, but now
there was no such obstacle. Michelle was shaking as he led her up to the tiny,
one bedroom flat, but she was plainly eager, kissing him as soon as they were
through the door. Peter responded, easing her down onto the bed as she shrugged
the jacket from her shoulders. He took one small breast in hand, stroking his
thumb over her nipple to bring it erect as their kissing grew more passionate,
while her hand was already fumbling for his zip.
Michelle’s legs had soon begun to come wide and Peter was
ready to mount her and fuck her, but she’d no sooner got his half stiff cock
free of his trousers than she gone down to take it in her mouth. He let her do
it, watching the expression of bliss on her face, as if simply to have a man’s
penis to suck on allowed all the cares and stress of the last hour to melt
away. She was good too, using her tongue to rub on the underside of his shaft
in a way that never failed to bring him to a rapid and happy climax, but that
wasn’t what he had in mind. Pulling her up from his cock, he made to mount her,
only to have her wriggle around onto her knees, presenting him with her well
spread bottom, the cheeks still red from her beatings, her cunt wet and
inviting.
‘Do me properly,’ she sighed, ‘the way you like to. Spank
me and fuck me and stick it up my bottom.’
Peter didn’t need telling twice, taking his cock in hand
as he crawled into position behind her. She’d put her head down, leaving her
bottom then highest part of her body, with both holes on offer to his erect
cock and clearly badly in need of filling.
‘Cunt first then, you little disgrace,’ he grunted and
put his cock to her hole, watching it go in with his face split by a dirty,
satisfied grin. ‘Ah, but that is good. You ought to see yourself, with your
bare pink bum in the air and my cock in your hole, you
dirty little bitch.’
He began to fuck her, his cock squelching in the open,
sopping hole of her cunt and his balls slapping on her fingers where she’d
begun to masturbate, and to spank her at the same time, slapping at her cheeks
to make them quiver and wobble.
‘What a sight!’ he laughed. ‘What a sight, you fat
bottomed little slut, and just imagine, letting a man who’s spanked you fuck
you. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, but oh no, not you. You stick your
bottom in the air and beg to be fucked, fucked by a man who’s just spanked you,
spanked you in front of a load of leering perverts, Michelle, you dirty tart!’
She moaned, rubbing harder at her cunt as he fucked her
and babbling indistinct words that suddenly grew clear.
‘...that’s right, tell me what I am, a slut, a whore, and
please, please, stick it up my bum!’
‘Okay,’ he promised, easing his cock free, ‘up your
bottom it goes, if you’re really that dirty.’
Her vagina had stayed open, dribbling juice down over her
busy fingers as she masturbated. His cock came out white and slippery, and he
lost no time in pressing the straining head to her anus, lubricating her with
her own juice as the soft little hole spread to accommodate him. She felt tight
and hot inside, for all that he obviously wasn’t the first man to stick his
cock up her bottom and he was soon deep in, holding her cheeks wide to show off
the taut pink ring of her buggered bottom hole as it pulled in and out on his
cock.
‘How many men have buggered you, you little tart?’ he
demanded. ‘Go on, tell me. How many cocks have you taken up that fat little
peach, Michelle? How many men have you knelt for with your bottom stuck in the
air, begging for a cock up your dirty little hole? How many of them have
spanked you, Michelle, how many have spanked your fat little arse and then
buggered you... buggered you and spunked up inside you...’
He broke off, unable to talk anymore as his orgasm rose
up to explode in his head and his cock began to pump spunk out up her bottom,
just as she screamed out his name and he realised that they’d come together.