Three

IT TOOK PIPPA quite a while to calm down, and even when she’d wiped her tears away she was too embarrassed to easily meet her sister’s eye. I knew how she felt, for all that I was so aroused I was having trouble keeping my hand away from between my thighs, but we took our places again for the third round, Pippa and I sitting on our hot bottoms, AJ cool and in control, Jemima looking unbearably smug.

I wasn’t sure how fair the first two rounds had been, and it seemed likely that AJ had made sure Jemima’s confidence was given a healthy boost, but there was no doubt at all about this round. It would be fixed, and Jemima would be the loser. All I had to do was hang on to my own chips and make sure AJ got to hold the cards as often as possible. That meant she’d win, and be the one to cane Jemima, which left me feeling more guilty than ever as we began to play, but the thought of some insensitive American video maker putting Jemima in the same state Pippa had just been in helped to steel my resolve. It was all very well Hudson Staebler saying he’d look after her, but things could easily get out of hand, and at Morris’s Jemima had always had Pippa with her.

‘Now it gets serious,’ AJ said as she took the cards. ‘Share the chips out, Miss Muffet, and it might be nice if you got your sister a cushion, Jemima.’

Pippa had tucked her skirt up and left her bikini pants off, as dictated by the rules, and gave a heartfelt nod of agreement. I knew AJ was only trying to distract Jemima so that she could fix the deck, but still felt a little put out that she didn’t seem to mind me sitting bare bottom on a wicker chair, although admittedly I hadn’t been caned. Jemima brought two cushions anyway but there was no hiding the amusement in her face as she passed them over to us.

I felt a great deal more comfortable with the cushion underneath me, while it also made it easier to concentrate on the game. The first thing was to build up AJ’s store of chips without destroying Jemima’s confidence, which meant I should lose on moderate bets for the first few hands. I had a pair of aces and dropped two reds on the first hand, which AJ won. She won the second as well, but Jemima took the third with three fours, presumably on purpose.

After that the game began to swing one way and another. It was impossible to tell how much control AJ had over the cards, and yet her pile of chips was growing gradually larger. When AJ won again she knocked a gem off the table and shuffled the cards while Jemima leant down to pick it up, so I knew something was about to happen.

Jemima’s hand would be good, and I had to bet high on the second round to force her to follow suit, thus making sure she took a big loss. I’d lose badly too, but with AJ fixing the game that wouldn’t be a problem. She’d done it well too, as I had three fives and a king in my hand, which gave me every excuse. I put a blue gem out and was delighted to see another king turn up, leaving me with a strong hand yet one that I knew would be weaker than AJ’s.

‘Five,’ she said, moving a blue gem forward.

‘I’ll match that,’ Pippa responded, adding one of her own.

‘Eight,’ I said, pushing out my remaining blue and three reds.

Jemima didn’t even hesitate.

‘Eight it is. What have you got?’

She hated to show her cards first, and was craning forward to see what I had. I saw her face fall as I put down my full house, and Pippa immediately threw down her cards.

‘Fives and kings!’ Jemima exclaimed, spreading out her own three aces. ‘I thought I’d got that one.’

I shrugged and looked up at AJ, expecting her to coolly lay out a winning hand, but she looked irritated and when she put her cards down all she had was a flush. She was obviously playing a more complicated game than I’d anticipated, and as I raked in my winnings I tried to figure it out. I was now well ahead, and Jemima was in trouble as arranged, but so was AJ. Either she’d made a mistake or she’d decided that I ought to do the caning, but either way I had to get the cards back to her as quickly as possible.

A quick shuffle allowed me to get the aces and kings I’d seen back to the top of the pack, or so I hoped. With any luck AJ would get some, and if Pippa and I threw in without showing our cards she would probably win. I dealt and found that I had two of my fives from the previous hand, which seemed to suggest that I’d succeeded.

‘I’ll risk two,’ I said, pushing out my gems.

‘So will I,’ Jemima put in, and AJ and Pippa followed suit.

I turned up a six, leaving me with just my pair of fives and a perfect excuse to throw in.

‘Five,’ Jemima stated confidently and laid out a blue gem.

AJ could throw in or match Jemima’s stake, which would leave her with just four gems, an awkward decision, but her face was unreadable as she pushed forward her single blue gem.

‘I’ll match that,’ Pippa said. ‘Can any of you beat three aces?’

‘Three kings,’ AJ answered, and now there was emotion in her voice.

‘Two pairs, queens and sixes,’ Jemima added, and for the first time she’d begun to look unhappy.

She had six left, one blue gem and one red. I still needed to get the cards back to AJ, and as Pippa dealt I was desperately trying to work out my best tactics. I had three tens and I put a blue gem out, watching to see what AJ would do. She bet just one, but Jemima had gone for three, which showed a lot of confidence. Pippa turned up the top card, a ten. Surely I could bankrupt Jemima?

‘Not for me,’ Pippa said, and threw in her cards.

‘Three,’ I declared, staying low in the hope that Jemima would follow, and if she was going to she had no choice but to put out the remainder of her gems.

She did so and I carefully snaked my foot out under the table, giving a gentle tap to the toe of AJ’s boot in an effort to signal that she could throw in safely. Her face never even flickered as she pushed out her remaining three gems. She had either misunderstood my signal or had a very strong hand, because unless she won I was going to be dealing with both her and Jemima. We’d done it, though, and it was impossible not to grin as I spread out my cards.

‘Four tens.’

AJ looked slowly up from her cards, her poker face dissolving in horror. She made to speak but thought better of it, limply dropping her cards on to the table, four hearts, which gave her a flush with the ten on the pack. Again her mouth opened, but whatever she wanted to say it couldn’t be said in front of Jemima and I could only shrug in helpless apology.

‘I … I’d better do you side by side with Jemima then,’ I managed.

‘Who says Jemima’s going to get it?’ Jemima cut in, and she laid out her cards. ‘Four queens beats four tens, I think you’ll find.’

I turned to her, speechless. She’d won, which meant she was going to leave without taking a punishment at all, unless we carried on playing after I’d beaten AJ, which wasn’t something I was sure I could do. Words came tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

‘You don’t have to take it, if you’d rather not.’

AJ shook her head.

‘I don’t want anyone saying I can’t take what I like to dish out. How many strokes?’

‘Um … let me see. We each had ten red chips and … so, um … seventy-two.’

‘How do you want me?’ she asked, and stood up.

She looked absolutely terrifying, and not at all as you’d expect of a girl who was about to take seventy-two cane strokes. Her jacket was open, showing the man’s vest beneath with her small breasts making two neat bumps in the plain, white material, which was tight over her lean, muscular midriff. She was taller than Jemima by several inches, and the muscles of her long, powerful legs showed through the leather of her trousers, an image that made me want to grovel on the floor.

‘Well then?’ she demanded.

I glanced at Pippa for support, but she gave an urgent shake of her head. Jemima just thought it was funny.

‘Um … however you like,’ I offered. ‘What would be most comfortable?’

‘You’re the one who likes her arse smacked, you tell me.’

‘Er … on the bed, lying over a pillow?’

She shrugged and started for the stairs. I quickly pulled up my knickers and jeans to follow, realised I’d forgotten the cane and had to go back for it. Pippa stayed as she was, unwilling to watch her mistress beaten, but Jemima came with me, giggling in delight. By the time I got upstairs AJ was already in my bedroom, leaning against the window with her arms folded across her chest. I took one of my pillows from the top of my bed and rearranged it in the centre, my fingers shaking as I plumped it up to make sure she’d be as comfortable as possible.

‘There we are,’ I told her, and her hand went to the button of her trousers.

‘You don’t have to go bare,’ I offered, ‘not if you don’t want to.’

‘Shut up, Miss Muffet,’ she answered me, and she pushed her trousers down.

She had no knickers on, as usual, and I glimpsed the barbed-wire tattoo on her pubic mound before she turned to climb on to the bed, exposing her bottom. I’d licked both, many times, often after punishment, and even as she positioned herself on the bed with her bottom raised by the pillow it was hard to picture her as a suitable recipient for the cane. She’d want her revenge too, I was sure of that, and that it would be both painful and humiliating.

‘Get on with it then,’ she ordered, and I realised I’d been holding back.

I laid the cane across her bottom, lifted it and brought it down with a gentle thwack. She turned her face to look at me.

‘Don’t be pathetic, Miss Muffet.’

Again I applied the cane, this time leaving a faint pink line across the hard swell of her cheeks. She settled her chin on her hands, her face unreadable, and she didn’t speak, which I took to mean that the stroke had been hard enough. I gave her another, and a fourth, slightly harder. Still she failed to react, and my confidence began to build, until with a dozen pink lines decorating her bottom cheeks I was wondering if deep down she wasn’t enjoying herself and had simply found an excuse to switch.

If so, she’d never given the least sign of it before, and as I continued to beat her she still refused to show either pain or pleasure, neither wincing to the cuts nor sticking her bottom up, something I’ve found few women can resist once they’re warm. She had at least begun to juice, and the warm smell of her pussy was growing gradually richer in the air, but that told me nothing about what was going on in her head.

By thirty strokes I was caning her quite hard. The lines across her bum were getting red, and some of her welts were marked with tramlines on either side. I was starting to enjoy it too, despite myself, and thinking of all the times she’d spanked me, belted me, caned me, made me lick her pussy and kiss her anus, pissed on me, clamped my nipples and tortured my breasts, stuck pins in my bottom, flushed my head down my own used lavatory …

It was only when she finally winced that I realised I’d been using the full force of my arm to bring the cane down across her bottom, but it didn’t stop me. Her bottom was already a mess of angry welts and purple bruising, so it was far too late. Whatever horrible revenge she took was unlikely to get any worse, whatever I did to her, and I had only ten strokes left anyway.

I applied them with full force, slashing the cane down across her buttocks to make her jerk and hiss with every blow. Still she kept control of herself, her teeth gritted to hold in her cries and her fingers locked hard in my bedcover, and even as I gave her the final stroke across the back of her thighs she held on, although her body was shaking badly and she was forced to close her eyes to cope with the pain.

‘Seventy-two,’ I said, all my fear washing back as I dropped the cane to the floor.

‘So you have got some guts,’ she said, and began to climb carefully off the bed.

She inspected her bottom in the mirror, rather casually, more as if she was checking what she’d done to somebody else than to assess her own damage. I waited, fidgeting, sure that at any moment she would turn on me, but when she spoke her voice was quite calm.

‘Would you mind going downstairs, Jemima? I want to speak to Penny alone.’

Jemima hesitated, obviously not wanting to miss out on whatever was going to be done to me, but left the room, shutting the door behind her. AJ waited until the sound of Jemima’s footsteps on the stairs had faded, then spoke again.

‘What the fuck did you think you were playing at? You set me up for this, didn’t you?’

‘No!’ I squealed. ‘I wanted Jemima caned, I told you! I promise!’

She reached out to take me by the chin, squeezing as she tilted my head up to look into her eyes.

‘So how come you signalled me to keep my cards in the ring?’

‘I didn’t! I meant to let you know you were safe to fold. It … it was Pippa’s fault! She should have thrown in when she had the three aces! Honestly, AJ, it was an accident, that’s all. I didn’t mean to … ouch, you’re hurting!’

I’d been babbling, in genuine fear, sure she was going to slap me in the face or something. She didn’t, but kept her grip, staring deep into my eyes for a long moment before speaking again.

‘You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?’

‘Yes!’

‘OK then, but you’re a silly bitch, you know that?’

‘I suppose so,’ I admitted, and she let go of my chin. ‘What are you going to do to me?’

‘I don’t know. I’m tempted to cane your fat arse in front of the girls, but the trouble with you sluts is that you just get off on it, don’t you?’

I managed a weak smile but held my peace, not wanting to make any suggestions for my own punishment. It seemed like a good moment to change the topic of conversation.

‘You know you can punish me whenever you want, AJ, but we really do need to make sure Jemima’s bottom gets marked.’

‘No problem. Let’s just thrash the little tart. We’ve all been done, haven’t we, so why should she get away with it?’

‘That seems reasonable, or we could always play another round of the game. She’s very turned on.’

‘So am I, which is why you’re going to kiss my arse better before we go downstairs.’

I wasn’t going to ask if it was the caning that had aroused her, spanking me and watching Pippa beaten, or simply two hours of sex and tension. She still had her trousers down, but instead of sitting on the bed and making me kneel for her as she usually did, she simply pushed her bottom out, resting her hands on her knees with her head half turned so that she could see herself in the mirror.

Like Pippa and Jemima, she was so slim she showed everything from behind even with her bottom stuck out just a little, so as I got down on my knees I had a clear view of the pouted lips of her sex, with the barbed-wire design on her mound and the twin piercings between, also her bumhole, which I knew full well was where she wanted my tongue.

I had a perfect view of her welts as well, both muscular, egg-shaped cheeks criss-crossed with vivid red lines and blotchy with bruising. As I puckered up my lips to kiss her cheeks I felt genuinely sorry for what I’d done to her. I unfastened my jeans as I began to kiss her welts, keen to masturbate while I licked her bottom and only sorry that my cunt wasn’t swollen to the size of a grapefruit while I did it. My hand went down the front of my knickers, teasing as I lapped up the salty taste of her skin where she’d broken sweat during her beating.

She tasted good, and I was soon licking eagerly, all over her cheeks and between, ever closer to her anus. A moment more and I’d pushed my jeans and panties back down, baring my bottom so that I could stroke my still warm cheeks while I remembered how she’d spanked me. With that I let my face go fully in between her cheeks, lapping in her crease before burrowing my tongue in up her bumhole.

I could taste her, bringing my ecstasy higher through my own deliberate degradation, licking another woman’s bottom clean as I masturbated. My hands had gone back and front, touching my own bottom hole and rubbing my pussy to send little shivers through my body. I was going to come at any moment, unable to stop myself as I licked ever harder and pushed my tongue deeper in up her now open, slippery bumhole.

She was sighing with pleasure, and I knew I was really supposed to make her come before I did, but I couldn’t stop myself. I went into a jerking, wriggling orgasm, with one finger up my own bumhole, my other hand clutching at my eager cunt and my tongue pushed in up AJ’s bottom just as far as it would go, dirty bum-licking little slut that I am.

Even when I’d come I didn’t stop licking, but buried my face between AJ’s cheeks, my nose now in her bottom hole as I licked at her pussy, flicking my tongue over her piercings and on to her clit until she too reached her climax. I took hold of her hips at the last moment and held on to her, my face smothered in her bottom, enjoying my own submission until she at last pulled away.

‘You needn’t think that pays for my caning,’ she said immediately.

‘I don’t,’ I answered her.

‘Good, so long as that’s understood. Now let’s get washed up and we’ll get that little brat Jemima, turn and turn about, until the Marquis de Sade himself would feel sorry for her.’

I nodded agreement and we made for the bathroom, where I had a quick shower and helped rub cream into AJ’s bottom, with the inevitable consequence that I ended up having to bring her to a second orgasm. By the time we’d finished I was beginning to worry that Jemima might no longer be on heat, and when we came downstairs it was to find her and Pippa sipping tea from my best cups. Not that it would have stopped us thrashing her, but they were no longer alone. A third woman was seated where I’d so recently had my hot bottom parked on the hard wicker – my mother.