Twelve

RHIANNON AND I spent the rest of the afternoon clothes-shopping, partly because I was going to need some things until Percy could send on my luggage and partly to get kitted up for the evening. Gilbert, Otto and company had only ever seen me in a smart business suit, and while that seemed to appeal I was definitely due for a change.

After first buying a pair of cheap jeans, a baggy top and a jumper so that I wouldn’t freeze to death, we began to try options. I considered a nurse’s uniform in one of the medical supply shops off Harley Street, a fully correct bottle-green school outfit in Selfridges and red, white and blue cheerleader’s gear in the American Boutique in Carnaby Street. None of them were right, but it was fun trying them on, especially as Rhiannon grew gradually bolder after watching me dress and undress so many times. I took the opportunity to have a snog and a squeeze in the American Boutique, after which she told me that whatever outfit I chose she would dress to match.

What we eventually chose was sheer mischief, and better designed to earn me a spanking than the shortest of skirts or the tightest of panties. Selecting a gent’s outfitters just on the wrong side of Regent Street, we converted ourselves into parodies of the men themselves. First came male briefs, the smallest size they had available, which clung to our bottoms but bagged at the front, then white shirts and silk waistcoats to accentuate our breasts, particularly mine, which looked as if they were doing their best to burst free. Sensible brogues and diamond-pattern socks served for our feet, while the herringbone twill suits we selected might very well have come from the wardrobe of the Right Honourable Vernon Flyght himself, except that they were several sizes too small. They also had the effect of showing off the roundness of our bottoms, which peeped out from beneath the hems of our jackets in a way I knew Percy for one would find irresistible, as he would the implied mockery of our style.

The shop assistant certainly thought so, his manner remaining frigid despite my liberal dispensations of cash. I paid for Rhiannon, as each outfit cost several hundred pounds, and that put her in an ecstasy of gratitude as we walked south. By then I no longer felt even remotely guilty about my decision to have her. It was what she wanted, and it was what she was going to get.

We were still half an hour early, so we stopped at a bar for a couple of large gin and tonics. I was sure Rhiannon needed a drink and I certainly did, because for all my careful planning there were a dozen things that could go wrong. First was having the right man on the door, and I relieved to see Stubbs standing there in full uniform, right down to the sergeant’s stripes on the sleeves of his crimson jacket. I gave him a smile and a surreptitious squeeze of his crotch, to which he returned a knowing wink.

Second was the location. I’d suggested the tasting room on the first floor, the largest in the building, because although it looked out over St James’s there were heavy shutters that could be closed to ensure absolute privacy. They’d taken my advice, adding to the atmosphere by having only the central chandelier lit, while each of the tables placed against the walls supported a large, polished brass candelabrum with deep-red candles. Most of the men were already there, Gilbert with a glass of Champagne in his hand at the door. He greeted me with a smile that changed to an enquiring look as he took in my outfit and my companion.

‘Rhiannon, this is Gilbert Hambling, my ex-boss,’ I explained. ‘Gilbert, this is Rhiannon, who has volunteered to pass the drinks around this evening.’

‘Delighted, I’m sure,’ Gilbert responded.

‘She’s very experienced,’ I assured him, ‘so you can leave everything to her, but she’s not to be touched, except, just possibly, by me.’

His great bushy eyebrows rose a fraction and I gave him my cheekiest smile before moving further into the room. Otto was there, and Vernon, along with most of the men who’d enjoyed me at the Aviators. I now knew all of them by name, but I remembered them from the way they’d behaved at that first encounter: the cold one, the one who liked girls to put up a fight, the one who’d pulled my boobs out. Now it was time for another round, and in front of Rhiannon, and I was filled with nervous excitement as I accepted their compliments and congratulations, as well as several remarks on my choice of costume and what the consequences were likely to be. I accepted it all, trying not to keep looking at the clock above the door as they gradually assembled, with Percy turning up last of all.

‘Shall we begin, then?’ Gilbert suggested.

There was general agreement, and I stepped out into the middle of the room, where the traditional single chair had been placed at the centre of the carpet.

‘OK, boys, who’s first?’ I asked.

Vernon gave a polite gesture towards Gilbert, who in turn cocked an eyebrow at Percy.

‘No, no. I enjoy the privilege nightly,’ Percy insisted.

‘You’re too polite, you silly old buffers,’ I said with a laugh.

‘I’ll show you who’s an old buffer!’ a fat, silver-haired man wheezed, and he began to get to his feet.

‘That seems as good a way as any,’ I said. ‘We’ll do it by seniority, oldest first.’

‘Old I may be,’ the man said, advancing, ‘but not too old to take a saucy little brat like you to task, Natasha.’

He sat down, making a lap for me to climb over. I undid my fly buttons to make it easier for him and draped myself across his knees, the tweed of my trousers now tauter than ever across my bottom. He turned my jacket tails up on to my back and began to fondle me, grunting softly to himself as he explored the shape and feel of my cheeks, apparently in no hurry whatsoever to actually spank me.

I closed my eyes, concentrating on the exquisite humiliation of my position, bum high over some dirty old bastard’s knee as he molested me in front of his friends and my own girlfriend. By the time he decided to get me stripped I was fighting the urge to let my thighs come apart, and I couldn’t repress a sigh as my trousers were tugged down to expose the white briefs beneath. He patted my bottom, traced one finger slowly down to push my pants into my crease, adjusted each leg hole to ensure that my cheeks were perfectly exhibited in their tight white cotton casing, spent a long moment simply admiring the view and at last took hold of my waistband.

My bottom was stripped, something I’ve always enjoyed, but this time it was pure bliss just to know that they were all watching, especially Rhiannon, as my briefs slid slowly down to expose my cheeks, full and bare for spanking. I’d deliberately pushed myself high to make my cheeks spread and let them all see the tight brown knot of my bumhole. He made a good job of me too, tucking my briefs right down to make sure I lost every last scrap of modesty.

‘Good heavens, it’s a girl!’ he remarked as my pussy came on show to the room.

Everybody laughed and my face flushed hot as I imagined what I was showing behind, every soft pink fold of my sex in plain view. At last he began to spank, just gently, calling me a saucy little minx as he smacked my bottom and pausing occasionally to touch me up. I couldn’t help but react, sighing and wriggling in my growing excitement as my cheeks grew slowly warmer and my pussy wetter.

By the time he’d finished I had completely surrendered. The next man made me put my hands on my head while he opened the front of my clothes, unbuttoning my shirt and waistcoat just far enough for him to lift my tits out and leave them dangling awkwardly and slapping together as I was spanked across his knee. The third put a finger in me and made me suck it, while the fourth made a point of inspecting my bottom slit and remarking on the brownish colour of my anal flesh. The fifth man spanked hard; he was the first who seemed to want to punish me rather than humiliate or take advantage of me. The sixth was Gilbert, and when he stepped up to the chair I saw that he was holding a small wooden box.

‘Something to keep you warm,’ he remarked in response to my curious gaze, then opened the box.

Inside was a small fruit knife, a wrapped pat of butter and a large piece of fresh root ginger. He was going to fig me.

‘Over you go, my dear,’ he instructed, sitting down.

I got into position, wondering how Rhiannon felt about girls having things put up their bottom holes as I braced my feet as far apart as my lowered clothes would permit and stuck my hips up. It was a thoroughly rude position, showing everything, and Gilbert took immediate advantage, squashing the pat of butter into my anus so that it began to melt, lubricating me as he carved the fig. I could feel the butter, moist and slippery as it pooled in my anus and trickled slowly down into my pussy hole and over my lips.

He took ages, with me holding my position all the while. I could see Rhiannon serving drinks and repeatedly glancing at my spread bottom. Her emotions were hard to read, and seemed to keep changing, but they were certainly strong, which made mine stronger in turn, and when the neatly carved plug of ginger root was finally inserted in my bumhole I was sobbing with shame. Thirty seconds later I was sobbing for a quite different reason as the heat in my penetrated bumhole grew to a powerful burn and Gilbert smacked my naked bottom to add to my woes.

I couldn’t hold myself still, but kicked, wriggled and squeezed my bum cheeks, to the delight of my audience. Gilbert took his time as well, not only adding to the already hot glow of my bum but taking my trousers and briefs down to my knees so that he could smack my thighs and make sure everybody behind me got a good view of the fig in my penetrated anus.

When he’d finally finished I felt dizzy and didn’t try to stand, but fell to my knees on the floor. The next man stepped up, and I was given a firm but rather short spanking and put back on the floor. Then Otto got to his feet. He too was holding something, and he spoke as he tucked me across his knee.

‘I also have a little surprise for you,’ he said, holding up a long, weather-beaten box. ‘Well, not so very little perhaps.’

He opened the box, causing a ripple of laughter and a few muttered remarks as he showed the others what it contained. I twisted around, eager to find out what was to be done to me and expecting a dog quirt or some equally painful and humiliating implement. What he had was an enormous thermometer, the old-fashioned kind with a glass bulb full of coloured alcohol and a long calibrated shaft. I knew exactly where it was going, up my bum, as it wouldn’t be the first time some pervert had inflicted his fetish for medical humiliation on me; but the horrible thing was at least four times the size of any I’d had used on me before.

‘It is’, he explained as he once more began to stroke my bottom, ‘a relic of the days when our deliveries were done by horse and cart, and is intended, as you may therefore have deduced, to measure the rectal temperature of a horse. However, no doubt it will do equally well when inserted between the cheeks of Natasha’s somewhat perter and prettier bottom.’

‘You’re a bastard, Otto,’ I muttered, but I hung my head in submission and braced my feet to lift my bottom back into full prominence.

His fingers delved between my bum cheeks to grip the base of my fig and extract it, leaving my bumhole open and slippery. Keeping my cheeks spread, he pushed the big, round thermometer bulb in without difficulty and lodged it well up my rectum. The fig went up my pussy, making me gasp and my eyes water as the heat built in my sex. Then he began to spank me, the thermometer waggling in my bottom hole at every slap. He only gave me a couple of dozen, then took hold of the thermometer and eased it free, once more leaving my bumhole gaping to the audience.

‘Normal,’ he remarked as he inspected it, ‘for a horse at least. For a human she is a little warm, but that is perhaps not surprising.’

He chuckled and went back to spanking me, only to pause so that he could place the thermometer on Rhiannon’s tray and ask her to wash it, which I found almost as shameful as having it stuck up my bottom. I couldn’t help lifting my head to watch the rotation of her cheeks beneath her boyish trousers as she left the room.

After Gilbert came Percy, who made me eat my fig and wouldn’t stop spanking until I’d swallowed every last bit, then Vernon, who made me run on the spot with my tits bouncing wildly and my bum jiggling, just long enough to make sure that Rhiannon had a good look when she came back into the room. He spanked me in nappy-changing position, rolled up on my back with my legs held up to ensure that every lewd detail of my sex was flaunted as he smacked my already fiery cheeks. After that they started to compete, each man doing his best to spread me out in some even ruder or more inventive position: bent down with my head jammed between one’s knees, with my thighs open across another’s knee to make my pussy rub on his trousers as he spanked me, thrown over a third’s shoulder like a flour sack, with my bum the highest part of my body.

As the men became more excited, again and again I’d have an erection rubbing against my body as I was reduced to a kicking, wriggling tantrum with my hair flying and tears streaming down my face. Several of them fingered me or had a rub of my pussy, but it was Stubbs who made me come, spanking me hard with one hand while the other cupped my pussy and masturbated me to a long, shame-filled orgasm that left me panting and sweaty on the floor, my bare red bottom stuck out to the room and the juice trickling slowly down one thigh.

Percy helped me up and Rhiannon pressed a glass of Champagne into my hand. I drank it at a gulp and took a second glass before pausing to rearrange myself. They’d all been thoroughly enjoying the show and were now talking animatedly among themselves, so I sat down to refresh myself and check that Rhiannon was OK. It had taken about an hour for me to be passed around: not quite as long as I’d liked, but we were far from finished. After my third glass of Champagne and a kiss for Rhiannon I stepped back to the centre of the room and raised my hands for silence, which I eventually got.

‘Gentlemen,’ I called out, ‘I have a special treat for you. If she agrees, and only if, I am going to spank Rhiannon in front of you. Rhiannon?’

She nodded and swallowed, shy but determined, which sent a sharp thrill of lust through me. I sat down on the chair, my own bottom hot and tender in my briefs. The men were turning their attention to us, their interest growing as I went on.

‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ I told her, ‘and unlike some gentlemen I could mention I won’t play any nasty tricks, but you are going to be bare-bottom, is that clear? Now, gentlemen, before I start I think you should all know that Rhiannon is only eighteen. Come down across my knee, darling.’

She gave one last worried glance at the ring of expectant male faces and draped herself across my lap, her bottom lifted, the tweed of her trousers tight over her cheeks, just as mine had been. I reached under her tummy to undo her fly, loosened her trousers a little, lifted my leg and took her firmly around the waist to make her pull her back in and ensure that everyone got a good view.

‘Better still, this will be her virgin spanking,’ I said, and took her trousers down.

Rhiannon had shaken her head as her briefs came on show, but I wasn’t sure what she meant and she didn’t try to get up, so I stuck my thumbs into the waistband of her pants and pushed. She gave a single, hard sob as her bottom cheeks came bare, small and sweet and rounded, each chubby little cheek bulging out, so full and firm you’d have thought she’d been pumped up, which gave her a very rude rear view indeed, with the tiny, dimpled star of her anus on full display and her cunt too, neat and pink and virgin. Every eye in the room was on her now, bulging from their reddened faces as they drank in the beautiful sight of her exposed bottom and sex, stripped for men for the first time.

She was trembling, and so was I, scarcely able to hold back my desire for her. Yet I knew I had to take it slowly, because she didn’t have spanking fantasies and if I did her too hard she never would. The most she knew was what it meant to have to show her bottom in front of dozens of men, and even then in panties, not bare. So I took my time, caressing her, squeezing the meat of her cheeks and running my nails across her skin, patting her ever so gently until the first pink flush had begun to creep over her bottom.

Only then did I begin to spank her, not hard, just enough as if I was trying to give her a lesson without really hurting. At that she began to kick a little, and her breathing was growing fast, so I kept apace with her and fought down the rising desire to spank the gorgeous little brat until she howled. That would come another time.

I stopped and helped her to her feet. The men began to clap, saying what a brave girl she was and complimenting her on her bottom as I took her in my arms. She clung tight, trembling, and I saw that she had begun to cry, a tear moistening each cheek. I kissed them away, thanked her and again drew her close, holding her until she chose to pull back, but even then only a little, while she seemed unable to stop herself kissing me.

Everybody in the room was watching us. I knew what I owed them, but that was just going to have to wait. Rhiannon was on heat and that mattered more than their pleasure. I stood up, still holding on to her as I spoke.

‘If you would excuse us for a few minutes, gentlemen. Percy?’

They began to mutter among themselves as we left the room, Rhiannon still with her clothes loosened and her pink bum cheeks showing beneath her shirt-tails. Percy followed a few paces behind as I climbed to what had been my office. The moment I’d locked the door behind us I took Rhiannon in my arms again, kissed her passionately and pulled at her clothes. She responded, still nervous but not unwilling, allowing me to strip her out of her jacket and waistcoat, her shoes and trousers, her shirt and at last her briefs to leave her nude but for her little diamond-pattern socks.

Percy had sat down at the desk, watching and waiting, knowing better than to interrupt, for all that he looked fit to burst. Rhiannon had glanced at him repeatedly as she was being stripped, but she’d said nothing and made no resistance, even when her briefs came off. I wasn’t sure if she’d guessed her fate, or if she’d accept it, but I had to tell her.

‘He’s going to fuck you,’ I said, my voice gentle but firm, my words deliberately unambiguous.

Her mouth opened a little, her lower lip trembling, but she said nothing.

‘Get your cock out, Percy,’ I ordered. ‘Don’t worry, darling, it won’t hurt. His cock’s quite small, and he’s the perfect gentleman.’

She responded with a weak nod and I gave her an encouraging smile. Percy was doing as he’d been told, leaning back in the chair and extracting his cock and balls from his trousers. He was already stiff, his erection a little pink spike rising above his oversized scrotum, just right for puncturing Rhiannon’s hymen.

‘It’s nice to have a smacked bottom first,’ I told her, patting her. ‘Now climb on.’

Again she nodded, completely acquiescent to my will. I got down on the floor as she swung one shapely leg across Percy’s lap, watching as she positioned herself above him, her virgin pussy directly over his erection.

‘Let me,’ I demanded, crawling close.

Her bum was right in my face, her pink cheeks open to display the tight wrinkle of her anus and the mouth of her sex, moist and ready but closed by the pink arc of her hymen. I poked out my tongue, took hold of Percy’s cock, and licked her as I wanked him and rubbed his helmet on her clit. She soon began to moan and I saw that she was clinging on to him, her breasts in his face. I rubbed harder, to make her think I was going to bring her off, only to suddenly press his cock to her virgin pussy and pull down on her hips.

At the same instant he pushed. I saw her hymen stretch, heard her gasp of pain and surprise, saw her flesh split and his cock disappear up her cunt. Blood began to trickle from her ruptured maidenhead as he fucked her, holding her tightly in his arms to prevent her escaping and make sure she got it properly. I buried my face at the junction of his cock and her freshly penetrated cunt, tasting her virgin blood, rich and salty in my mouth, as it trickled down his shaft and over his enormous balls.

She was crying softly, and whimpering, but we held her firmly in place until at last her pleasure got the better of her and she begun to bounce on Percy’s cock. We had her, and I let myself go, licking between her bum cheeks to taste her anus and lapping up the mixture of blood and juice now coating his balls. I had to come, and my hand went down my trousers and briefs as I licked, to find my wet, ready pussy.

I was licking Rhiannon’s bottom as I began to masturbate, my head dizzy with delight at what I’d done with her and the pleasure she was getting from both her spanked bottom and her penetrated pussy. Maybe I was a bitch, but it was what she’d wanted and I was licking her bum to make up for it. Did it make any sense? I didn’t care any more, too close to orgasm to worry about morals as I licked Percy’s balls and tongued Rhiannon’s bottom, pleasuring them as they fucked.

Percy came suddenly, and his hot spunk exploded from Rhiannon’s cunt into my face and mouth. I just licked all the harder, cleaning up the mess of blood and spunk and pussy juice as my own orgasm kicked in, so long and hard and high that I came close to fainting. Three times I peaked as I mouthed Percy’s scrotum, all the while with Rhiannon’s bottom squashing in my face, and then a fourth time with my tongue stuck as far up her bumhole as it would go.

Even then I wasn’t finished, but jerked Percy’s cock free and stuck it in my mouth to once more taste Rhiannon’s blood before I buried my face in her newly fucked cunt, determined to bring her to orgasm. She didn’t need encouragement, wriggling her bottom in my face and begging me to lick harder as she clung to Percy with an animal desperation, his face smothered in her chest. I was still masturbating, and as she began to buck and writhe and scream out her ecstasy I was coming again, together with her in the perfect climax.

* * *

Things weren’t quite going to plan, but they were close enough. I hadn’t factored Rhiannon into my programe, which meant that I was left with nearly two dozen dirty old men expecting their cocks sucked, to say nothing of Stubbs, Blake and Lucas. Percy was also a problem, if a minor one, because he was blissfully unaware of what I was up to.

I just had to get on with it, because there was no choice. Any funny business and they might get suspicious, which would be a disaster. So into the broom cupboard I went, a tradition Vernon had insisted on, to suck cock after cock after cock until my tummy was so bloated with spunk it was a relief to have to kneel on the chair and let Stubbs do it up my bum. By then everybody else was sitting about chatting, and they weren’t in the least surprised when I announced that I was off to a hotel room with Rhiannon and told them not to expect me back.

The van was where I’d said it should be, with Blake and Lucas sittting in the cab grinning. A quick check in the back confirmed that they had done as I’d told them and taken only the cases marked with a blue splash. Lucas had to go, as Rhiannon was coming and there was no room in the cab, but I was kind and gave him his thank-you blowjob in the back of the van anyway. That left Blake, but I made him wait. Rhiannon and I cuddled beside him as we drove west, not stopping until we reached a lay-by just outside Weymouth. There, sore but happy, with the cream of the contents of the Hambling and Borst cellar now mine – which I’d very definitely earned, even if my rate of exchange in bottles per spanking was a trifle more generous than they might have wished – I sat him down on a case of Clos de Tart 1955, pulled out his fat black cock and gave him what I hoped would be my last blowjob for a very long time. A week, at least.