Confessions 3 Page 2
I pulled my shorts aside to show her my cock, giving her every chance to tell me to stop. She didn’t, but she was completely passive, just staring at me with those big, round eyes and the ice cream dripping slowly down her legs. I started to wank, and still she stayed as she was. So I got on the bed and put it in her mouth. She started to suck.
It wasn’t the first time a girl had sucked my cock, but after the way she’d treated me it was something else, not just pleasure but triumph too, to see that pretty, pretty face, eyes closed in surrender and pleasure, mouth wide around my shaft as she did her best to pleasure me with her tongue and lips. She was good too, a born cock sucker, and when I tried to push a hand in under chest she obligingly lifted up.
Now I had my hands on those big golden boobs I’d been lusting after for so long, and I was not wasting the opportunity. I made her go down on the floor, kneeling in front of me with them sticking out, big and proud and bouncy. They were already soiled with ice cream, but I got another two blocks, rubbing them in over her boobs while she sucked my cock, and when she was good and slippery, sticking it between them to fuck in her cleavage. So many times I’d imagined it, and now here I was, my cock easing up and down between her slippery boobs while she held them together and kissed and licked at my knob each time it popped up between.
I could have come like that, easy, but I wasn’t finished with her, not by a long way. I wanted to have her, and I wanted to make her mine, but I wanted to punish her too. The funny thing is, she didn’t seem to mind, even when I wiped my cock in her face, smearing ice cream all over her cheeks and nose and forehead. She didn’t mind being made to stick her bum out again either, or when I put another couple of bars down her panties because most of it had run out into a big, multicoloured pool on the floor. I liked the way her panties bulged when they were full of ice cream, and I wanted to fuck her like that.
She wanted to be fucked too, moaning like anything and telling me not to pull her panties down, but to pull them open and stick it in like that. I did it, opening her panty pouch to show this squashy mess, white and pink and brown, with her bumhole showing in the middle of it, all slippery, and her cunt plugged full of ice cream. So I stuck my cock up, right in, with this weird mixture of hot and cold and the ice cream in her panties squashing over me and running down my balls. She was loving it, playing with her slippery boobs and begging me to fuck her harder, also calling me her man, which was how I ended up for the rest of that summer.
PETE — London
The Raid
Think what you like. This really happened. The names have been changed and a few of the details but otherwise it’s all true. We’re in a club, a very private club, maybe not strictly legal, not then. We’re with a group of friends; Penny and I, Gina, Angel, a few others. We’ve been drinking and we’ve been playing sex games, like a lot of other people in the club, only we’re getting pretty dirty about it. We bend Gina down across a chair, her head low, her bottom raised and parted. I pull down her knickers. Penny begins to spank her, and talk to her, soothing her. Angel waits, whip in hand.
The voyeurs begin to gather. There are always lots of voyeurs in clubs like this. Generally they’re not people the girls would like to play with, but they’re just right for Gina. Gina likes to be watched. Gina likes the feel of sexual humiliation. This time there’s a Japanese man holding an umbrella, strangely incongruous amid the black leather and skin-tight rubber, there’s a little black guy who is always there and never speaks, there’s an old man, pale belly protruding above tight rubber pants, and another, younger, muscular, in leathers. There are others, plenty of them, all pressing in to watch the spanking. I lean down, whispering to Gina, my arm around her shoulders, describing the men who are watching, telling her what they can see. I feel her answering shiver, and the jerking of her muscles as the smacks come in. They’re harder now, firmer, drawing a response from her body, erect nipples and deep, sudden breaths.
I whisper to her “We’re going to let one spank you, choose”. She looks back, her eyes full of nervous excitement, “The big guy, in the leathers”. “Slut,” I tell her.
I rise. A good twenty people are watching, packing into the little room and peering over one another’s shoulders. The one she wants is near the front, his gaze intent, but cool. I nod to him, speaking into his ear, “She’d like you to spank her.”
He shakes his head. I repeat the statement. He shakes his head again. I step away, puzzled. He’s watching, and there’s Gina, maybe the cutest girl in the club, asking for his attention, asking to have him smack her bare bottom. How could he not be interested?
I dismiss the thought, choosing a dirty old man who looks truly desperate. He accepts without hesitation. We let him give her a dozen smacks and grope her bottom. She looks back as he does it, her gaze flicking between him and me, full of accusation. I laugh at her, knowing full well that when she comes it will be that moment of betrayal she is thinking of.
The old man stops and we move in close, preventing anyone else from touching her. I stroke her bottom, finding the skin rough with goose pimples and hot to the touch. We step back, clearing space. Angel takes over, swinging her whip in to land with a loud crack across Gina’s bottom. It’s a cat, twelve thongs of thick, soft leather, heavy and pliable, an instrument for pleasure, not punishment. It leaves marks, adding to the redness of Gina’s skin, each blow making her jerk and gasp. I take her hair, twisting a hank of blonde strands in my hand, the way she likes it. Her hand goes back, between her thighs. Penny takes it away, gently, and replaces it with her own. Penny begins to masturbate Gina.
It takes moments. I feel my cock stiffen as Gina’s thighs start to shake, her muscles tightening. She cries out, sobbing, as Angel drives the whip in, harder, and harder still. Gina screams, her whole body shaking, her bottom clenching, then pushed out, showing the wet flesh of her vagina and her busy fingers. The whip comes in again, a last time, Gina calls out for Angel, and slumps, eyes closed, onto the chair.
A good scene, but it’s only one of many going on in the club. Later that same night a feisty, red-haired girl is tied to a cross to have her pubic hair shaved and be brought to orgasm with a vibrator and a huge dildo. Her profession? She’s a social worker from Brent. Gail is a housewife and mother, but there’s nothing she likes more than to dress up in leathers and go clubbing. She switches, enjoying whipping and tormenting the many eager men, but her real joy is in submission, in being tied helpless and her body made the focus of maybe half-a-dozen people, male and female together. Tonight she’s approached by the muscular man in leathers. He wants to know how much she charges for sex. She’s not interested, and laughs at him, amused but also offended. She’s no prostitute. She’s there for fun. She’s there because she wants to be there.
One of our regular playmates, Judith, has brought a friend. The friend calls herself Cat, and it suits her. She’s small, deft and dark, also full of energy and life, laughing as for the first time in her life she learns how it feels to have an entourage of men at her beck and call, not merely competing for her attention but keen to serve her in any way she sees fit. There’s a natural cruelty to her as well, and a lot of intelligence. She’s also beautiful, with long, jet black hair, a wasp waist pulled in tighter still by her leather corset, full, feminine breasts and buttocks encased in shiny black rubber to make a set of very enticing balls.
Clearly she has the potential to make a great domina, but I have something rather different in mind. I want to spank her. I’ve spanked Judith many a time, although she’s usually the one doing the spanking. To spank Cat as well would be a triumph. Ideally I want to spank her on the bare bottom while the men she’s beaten and humiliated look on. I tell Penny, who thinks it’s a fine game, but we agree to wait. At the end of the evening, when Cat’s drunk with pleasure, then we’ll suggest that she might like the tables turned. If she’d like to give and take, to one or both of us, then so much the b
etter.
By two in the morning the club is starting to wind down. It’s time for a cuddle and a chat, or in Gina’s case a large spliff. She makes it on the inside of her thigh, and I watch her quick, practised movements as she crumbles the resin into the tobacco, rolls and twists. We’re in a quiet corner, behind the big table on which Jacob has spread his goods: whips, spanking paddles, riding crops. Penny sits down on the far side of Gina. We exchange glances, wondering if we’ll be taking her home. It looks likely, but first we have business with Cat.
As the first waft of cannabis-scented smoke drifts past my face I inhale deeply, thinking of having the two girls in bed with me. They’ll probably set on me, but I don’t mind at all, just the opposite. I feel mellow, snug, just a touch self-satisfied. It’s time to act. Cat is talking to Jacob, trying to order him to buy her a drink. She doesn’t really understand the club etiquette, and he doesn’t look best pleased. As we know both of them now is the perfect time to step in. I signal to Penny, who nods in understanding. We rise, leaving Gina to enjoy her joint. As we approach Cat and Jacob I’m wishing the blaring Abba which Chris insists on playing wasn’t quite so loud.
It stops, abruptly, in the middle of the song. I hear voices. The lights go up. Angel pokes her head into the room, yelling that there’s a raid and gesturing frantically at Gina. An instant later two policemen are pushing into the room, big, burly men with aggression and adrenaline written on their faces. Jacob makes a quip and is told to shut up. The porn film on the TVs comes to a flickering halt.
The spliff has vanished, but the smoke hangs in the air, a long wreath rising guiltily towards the ceiling. As a large and corpulent constable is told off to keep an eye on us I wait for him to smell it. He fails to do so, maybe unable to pick cannabis out from the all pervading scent of rubber, sweat and perfume. What he does do is come up to within a couple of feet of us, looming over us.
He looks to be around fifty, greying, paunchy, and very, very embarrassed. Penny attempts to make conversation with him. He ignores her, unable to even meet her eyes, his face reddening as he realises that both she and Gina are bare-chested. Beyond his bulk are others, each one standing over a little group of us, stony silent. Oddly enough I’m not scared at all. I’m not even worried. It’s like something out of a 20s gangster movie, with the cops bursting in on a Chicago speak-easy. Or maybe a P.G.Wodehouse novel, where jazz clubs are always being raided and the characters just take it in their stride. It’s great, but it’s a shame about Cat. Another night maybe.
CID start to come round with the inspector in charge of the raid. They’re being led by two men in leathers, men who’d been at the club, and not just that evening, but before. One of them is the young man Gina picked out from among the voyeurs, and who approached Gail. Now I know why he didn’t want to spank Gina, and why he was asking about paid sex. I start to worry. I was the one who offered him the chance to spank Gina.
We can only wait as they enter our room. The Inspector is a big man, with a broad, bony face and the most sanctimonious expression I have ever seen. He nods as the undercover men show him Jacob’s stock of punishment implements. A WPC makes a note. Their eyes turn to us. An accusing finger comes up, pointing right at me. I look back, feeling angry, persecuted, and not in the least guilty. I want to speak, to justify my actions, to explain that we were only having fun. I find that all I can do is grin stupidly.
They move on, saying nothing. A prickling sensation runs over my skin. I swallow the huge lump I hadn’t realised was in my throat. I’m really worried now, wondering if we should just refuse to say anything and if we have anything on us in the way of identity. I’m sure we’ll be questioned at the least, and I’m trying to fight down the urge to defend my right to make my own moral choices. It’s what I want to do, but I remember what happened to the Spanner men. I stay quiet.
In the end it never comes to that. Chris and Greg are arrested, the rest of us are told to leave, a group at a time. We’re allowed to get our coats. Outside there are vans, dogs, police and more police. It seems a lot of effort to stop a few kinky people enjoying their evening.
A dog sniffs at Gina and I get another adrenaline rush, sure it can smell the cannabis. The handler pulls it back, glancing curiously at the girls, but it’s sexual, not accusing. Others are close, and we join them, talking excitedly about the raid and watching. Chris and Greg are led out, each pushed down into separate police cars and driven off. Angel joins us, laughing, nervous but genuinely amused. She’s in her cat suit, shiny black rubber from her neck to her toes. While the police were searching the club she had needed to pee. Thinking that she might be trying to dispose of drugs, a policewoman had insisted on accompanying her. They’d gone into the cubicle, together, and the policewoman had watched as Angel peeled down her cat suit. There was nothing underneath it, so she’d had to go nude. She’d used the loo like that, stark naked except for the tangle of rubber around her ankles, peeing into the bowl under the stern gaze of the policewoman. She’d felt exposed, humiliated, invaded. It was an outrageous breach of her privacy, and it had filled her with laughter and arousal, a piece of uniform fantasy more exciting than anything she’d done earlier.
Her bravado makes us feel a lot better, and excitement begins to take over again. We’re not going to be arrested, and nothing has been confiscated, even our whips. Jacob has not been so lucky. He is one of the last out of the club, still arguing with a sergeant. After a while he goes back in, the sergeant too.
Eventually he comes out again, holding a couple of heavy black boxes and a tripod. They’ve confiscated his stock, as evidence, every last whip, paddle and cane. He is furious, but he is being very polite indeed to the police. That afternoon he had been filming a promotional video for a spanking club. He’d come straight on to the club, locking the hired camera equipment in a back room. That’s what he’s holding, and while they’ve taken his blank video cassettes, the original tape is still in the camera.
It’s nearly three in the morning now and people have begun to disperse, including Gina. That’s a pity, but Judith is standing at a bus stop, full of the nervous excitement that’s affecting us all. With her is Cat. I share a glance with Penny. That’s all it takes, years of understanding packed into a single look of mutual desire. We approach Judith and Cat. We offer them a lift. They accept.
Judith’s flat is just across the river in Fulham so that’s where we head. The atmosphere in the car is electric, all four of us talking at once, relieved and excited, pumped up on sex and fear. There’s never really any doubt at all about what’s going to happen. We reach Judith’s. Would we like to come in for a coffee? Of course we would.
Coffee comes with biscuits and a ginger cake. Penny pulls Judith down onto her lap, stroking her bottom as we drink and run over the events of the night. Now it’s funny. We’re sorry for Chris and Greg, but mainly it’s funny. I tell them about Angel, making both of them laugh and exciting Judith’s envy. Penny starts to tease her, telling her she’s a slut and saying how good it would have been if the police had made her strip in front of all the men who’d been begging for her attention and the touch of her whip. She responds by licking the tip of Penny’s nose. Nobody gets away with that sort of cheek.
A single squeak of alarm and Judith is over Penny’s knee, her full bottom thrust high, her rubber skirt twitched up to leave her cheeks bulging out of the seat of black fishnet stockings and the sheer black panties underneath. Penny begins to spank, slapping at the plump cheeks to make them bounce and redden, with Judith giggling and squealing in pleasure. Cat’s giggling too, to see her mentor get it, and it’s her who suggests that Judith’s knickers need to come down.
Judith’s response is a squeal of protest, but we all know it’s pretend and she makes no effort to protect herself. Cat is bright-eyed with excitement as Penny starts to peel down Judith’s fishnets, but I have a better idea. I pass Penny the ginger cake. She grins. Judith is facin
g the other way, unable to see more than a small square of carpet and she never realises what’s about to be done to her until it’s too late. Instead of pulling her tights and knickers down, Penny sticks her hand down the back and pulls. Judith isn’t surprised, maybe thinking she’s going to be teased for a bit before she’s stripped, but she isn’t expecting a large, sticky ginger cake down the back of her knickers. There’s nothing pretend about her squeal as she feels it wedge against her bottom, nor in her cries of disgust and delight as the spanking begins once more, only now with every smack squashing the cake against her bottom.
Cat and I are laughing so hard we can barely breathe. When she leans in close I put my arm around her and she makes no effort to resist, still laughing. My hand finds her bottom and still there’s no resistance. I give her a playful pat, something that would have earned real fury had any of the men in the club pushed their luck. Still she’s laughing, and I’m telling her she’s a bad girl for mocking her friend. I tell her she ought to be spanked. Her response is a giggle, and that’s it, over she goes.
The thrill of putting her across my knee is something else again. She’s so pretty, so curvaceous, and, most importantly, she loves to dominate men. Now she’s across my knee, her beautiful bottom pushed up as I set to work, spanking her firm, meaty cheeks, not hard, because I don’t want to put her off, but hard enough to warm her skin.
Penny and I share a grin. It’s not the first time we’ve shared two girls, but this is special. It’s getting sexy too. Judith’s squeals of laughter have died down, to give way to richer, throaty noises as her bottom starts to warm and the shame of her situation begins to sink in. There’s ginger cake everywhere; on the sofa, on the floor, oozing out of the holes in Judith’s fishnets, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to be spanked. So does Cat, purring like her namesake as I attend to her bottom, using all my skill and experience to turn her on but knowing she’s still not ready to have her knickers taken down. Her friend has to go bare first, then it’ll be okay.