CHAPTER 1

GIRLS AT PLAY

 

"So how was the honeymoon?"

Eve was sitting with Daphne and young Daisy, a week or so after the sisters' return from an extended trip abroad, ... ménage à trois with Daphne's husband Gordon, to celebrate the younger girl's coming of age, and registration as Gordon's official mistress, in accordance with the customs of the liberated island of Eden.

"Honeymoon?" Daphne queried, one cynical eyebrow lifted. "Well, I suppose, in a way, it was. But Gordon had had my virginity years ago, and young Daisy here turned out to be damaged goods as well."

"Oh come on, Daph," the younger girl protested.

"Yes, yes, I know," her sister cut her off. "You were scarcely scratched, just a couple of boys, one to see what it was like, and a second because you couldn't make up your mind whether you really liked it. Still, two or two hundred, you bust your cherry, and got properly punished for it, in the old Eden tradition."

"And that means only one thing on this blessed isle," Eve contributed, grinning. "Hot licks across the bottom. How many and with what?"

"Two dozen. Actually, two butchers," she said, steadily enough. "With that beastly cane he took on holiday with us. I can still feel them."

"Those, and all the others you collected for being lippy," Daphne reminded her. "Your bottom was like raw steak by the time we got back."

"Well, yours wasn't much better," Daisy retorted defensively.

"I know," her elder sister acknowledged. "It was Gordon's way of letting me know I wasn't forgotten in the frenzy of your fresh young flesh. Such a considerate man. Weren't we lucky?"

"Have you still got the marks?" Eve wanted to know.

"Haven't we just," Daphne assured her. "Gordon's a great believer in keeping a girl decorated. I've got a few myself, but you should see Daisy's backside. Looks like a tropical rainbow."

"Really? Do let's see, Daisy."

"Well, erm...."

Daisy flushed and looked rebellious.

"Come on. Show!" Daphne instructed. "Or I'll have to tell Gordon you were discourteous to a guest in his house. You'd have something to show then."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Apparently Daisy did not care to call her bluff, and slipped a pair of delicate briefs from off a pair of neat, but ample, buttocks, stepping out of them and turning her back on the visitor. She lifted up the pleated skirt behind. Eve whistled.

"Oh my!" was the most intelligent comment she could think of under the circumstances.

The whole of the twin, pert globes was an inflamed field of red, crossed by darker purple stripes, from the crown of the jut to the tops of the white thighs, taking in a sizeable piece of overhanging real estate on the way, enough to provide a home for dozens of bruises and abrasions of all ages and colours. It was clearly a bottom that had been well beaten over the last few days, if not weeks.

"You certainly had a good time," Eve observed. "My recollection is that Gordon performs extra well when the woman is carrying an arse like that behind her."

"And don't forget the woman hits new heights with something like that under her," Daphne contributed. "The little cat was as hot as hell every minute of the trip, once she'd paid for her missing maidenhead."

"Hmmn. These can't be Gordon's."

Daisy flinched as Eve traced some particularly vivid red tracks in the sorest part of the thigh tops.

"Quite right," Daphne agreed. "Put them there myself this very morn. The wife always has flogging rights over the mistress while the master's away, unless he decrees otherwise."

"So what did you do to earn these beauties, Daisy?" Eve wanted to know.

"Got mouthy over breakfast," Daisy replied without embarrassment.

Eve lifted an interrogative eyebrow at the elder sister.

"What she has omitted to say was that she has become addicted to cock," Daphne explained. "Three weeks regular rogering and she can't do without it. Gordon's only been away three days and, already, she's beginning to get moody and mouthy for want of a prick. She'll grow out of it, of course, settle down to a less frantic pace, but, for the moment, I'll probably have to have her knickers down two or three times a week until Gordon returns."

"I haven't noticed you settling down to any extent," Eve remarked. "You've been known to crawl on your cunt like a bitch in heat sometimes, when Gordon's put you on chastity as a punishment."

Daphne had the grace to blush.

"Well, anyway, I'm saving him the bother of whipping Daisy's bum. He should be grateful. He's a lazy sod, always complaining what hard work it is dealing with us women."

"Huh, that's treasonable talk," Eve observed darkly. "I think Gordon might find it necessary to spell out the offence in lines of fire, if he got to hear of it."

"But who's likely to tell him? Oh, no! You wouldn't, would you?"

Daphne's voice went up a notch, for Eve was licking her lips, as if relishing something savoury on them.

"If I could be sure I was there to see it, I might," she admitted. "You know perfectly well how it excites me to see that big bottom of yours getting it. You bounce so delightfully, and Gordon can cut you up until you squeal like a pig. Yes, I think he ought to know, don't you?"

"Oh, alright, I know. It's the rule of the island, nothing to go unpunished, nothing overlooked. Our lords and masters to check every fault with rod and leather. Go ahead. Tell him, if you want. I expect it will be at least eight, since it was said amongst women. He always adds extra when it's cat-talk."

"Would you settle for four?"

Daphne shot her friend a look.

"You mean from you? I don't know. It's a tempting offer, but, if we ever got found out, we'd both be for it. A double dozen, I would think, and possibly some specials as well."

"I'll risk it if you will," Eve challenged.

"Oh, very well," Daphne sighed in mock resignation. "How do you want me?"

"Bent and bare, of course," Eve replied without hesitation. "Just drop your pants, lift that skirt, and bend over this chair. Is there a cane handy?"

"I'll go and get Gordon's special," Daisy volunteered with enthusiasm, and left the room without waiting for an answer.

"Hey! I'm not taking them in front of her," Daphne protested. "Even Gordon didn't make me do that."

"OK, we'll see if she hasn't got something better to do."

But when Daisy returned, brandishing a wicked length of pale yellow rattan, she was not convinced.

"Come on, Sis. You nearly always got to see me take my whacks. Fair's fair. This time I get to see you. You wouldn't want me to forget, when Gordon gets back, that this little game is meant to be a secret, would you?"

"You treacherous little cow," Daphne remarked conversationally. "OK, you can stay, but Eve gets to handle the stick. I'm not about to take any cuts from you, little sister."

"Not today," Daisy agreed, "but one day...."

"In your dreams, missy," Daphne retorted. "Come on, let's get this over with."

She slipped her hands under her light cotton skirt and peeled down a pair of pretty silk panties, then hoisted the printed cotton up to her waist, revealing the ample curves of a succulent bottom that Eve had been recalling from memory, but now feasted on the flesh. Two lush half globes, with a deep tight division, the whole prestigious rump heavily marked with fading multi-coloured spoors of Gordon's handiwork. A fat pursed pussy pouted through the gap at the top of her thighs as she bent over the chair indicated by the tip of the supple stick quivering in Eve's hand.

"Grip the seat, head down," Eve instructed. "Feet well apart, it shows your fat cunt, and go up on your toes. I've only got four with which to make you squirm, and I want to take you under the underneath, so to speak. It works better there."

For a moment longer, Eve contemplated the big patient bottom. Gordon had not neglected it, she could see. Not quite as badly bruised as Daisy's, but then it was Daisy's first outing as officially registered mistress, and she was entitled to special treatment. Gordon was a fair man, though, and Daphne had obviously received her share of attention and, no doubt, the compensatory ration of prick that would follow such discipline.

"Come on, Sis, stick it out," Daisy encouraged her elder sibling. "You've some nice ripe welts underneath you. Lift your bottom, so that Eve can get at them."

"Just you wait, you little beast," Daphne replied. "Don't forget you are under my hand for another four days yet," but the force of her threat was somewhat undermined by her bottom up posture, and the shroud of loose hair that veiled her face and muffled her voice.

"I can't make up my mind whether I want to watch from behind and see the cane biting into her fat hams, or go round her other end and see the look on her face," Daisy said.

"Well, you'd better make your mind up soon," Eve advised her. "I'm going to get started. Why don't you go and hold her wrists for her? I'm feeling chipper today, and your big sister might be grateful for someone to help her stay down."

"Oh, for God's sake, girls, sort yourselves out," came the muffled protest from beneath the curtain of hair. "Just let's get it over with, shall we."

"Getting to you, darling?" Eve asked sweetly, as Daisy took hold of the victim's hands, after brushing back the hanging tresses to open up her view of her sister's face and the expressions to come. "Well, try this for size."

She'd been wearing sandals with a respectably high heel, but had kicked them off before taking up position, to operate in bare feet. Now she seemed to have decided that her frilly fronted blouse was also an undesirable impediment, and stripped down to her bra. Satisfied she could give of her best, she swung the heavy rattan cane high behind her, took a prancing step forward, then sent the rod whistling into the meaty buttocks bent nakedly before her.

A new line sprang up among the more mature signs of correction, just at the base of the bottom cheeks. Daphne gasped, and her buttocks clenched tightly as she fought the pain in them.