Chapter Thirteen

Jill was glad that darkness was falling earlier in the evenings, even though normally she hated the slide of summer and early autumn towards the winter. She felt somehow safer under the cover of darkness, especially when she was making one of these illicit rendezvous. With a touch of gallows humour she quickly corrected herself. This meeting, with Jackie, was not illicit. It was the rest of her life that was such a wicked lie - and far wickeder than she had ever supposed it would be when she began this fight against crime. But then she hardly knew what was right and what was wrong any more, certainly to judge by her own moral or, rather, immoral conduct. She found herself wondering just how deeply she had been scarred by the experience she had been thrown into, and how much the fault lay within the fatal weaknesses of her own character, for she had discovered a shocking new persona which, she could only presume, had been locked away within her nature, wanting only this unbridled set of circumstances to release it.

She could feel the ache of muscles still, and the inner soreness from the previous night, a large part of which had been spent in the studio where she and Liz had cavorted in that disgusting artificial mud. But this latest extravaganza had been far lengthier, and more complex. The child’s paddling pool had been replaced by a large and authentically solid four-poster. It had needed to be solid, given the diversity of vigorous activity which had taken place there.

As usual, those responsible for the shoot had tried to make the atmosphere one of light frolic, with plenty of bubbly, and even pills to pop - maybe more sinister stuff to snort or inject - she hadn’t seen any direct evidence of it, but she hadn’t looked very hard. She had managed to stick to the booze, as far as she knew, but even that was an area of uncertainty. She was ashamed at the thought that she might be able to seize as an excuse on the notion that some kind of aphrodisiac could have been slipped into her drink, to ‘loosen the old libido’, as Jack Palmer was so fond of saying. The trouble was she couldn’t fool herself; there was degeneracy somewhere in her genetic make-up, she could no longer deny it. The orgasms she had experienced, and delivered, with Liz Grant, and now with the lithe Goan girl and the voluptuous blonde Karyn, had been all too genuine. She would never have believed it of herself, and maybe if she had not been placed in this unprecedented situation, would never have discovered it: her fatal depth of sensuality, of sexual hunger which could make her, with people she scarcely knew and under the lecherous gaze of perfect strangers, lose herself in those purely animalistic sensations and responses that consumed her.

Under the bright lights and the hotter eyes of an unseen select audience in the outer darkness, the four girls had sported among the white sheets and soft pillows. Starting off dressed in a convincing semblance of Victorian costume; the bustled gowns, the tightly laced stays, the flounced petticoats and split drawers, with their complicated drawstrings and frilled legs which extended to below the knee, they had enacted the simple erotic scenario. Liz and Jill were the two young maidens, the diminutive Odette their mischievous maid, who had removed their dresses and the framework of the bustles and the layers of petticoats, stripping them down to their lace camisoles and drawers, before similarly divesting herself of her white cap and apron and black maid’s dress, until all three were involved in some playful and then explicit sexual performances on the bed.

It was interrupted by the sudden entrance of the governess, a somewhat less than convincing Karyn in severe black, with her blonde hair carefully piled in a precarious bun. It had taken quite a while to coach her for her part in the proceedings, much of it done by the girls themselves, with vigorous mime and broken English. Eventually Karyn seemed to understand what was required of her, especially as the action moved towards the denouement of this first episode, which was terminated by the three miscreants bending over the foot of the bed, with their drawers unfastened and hanging down at the back to reveal their naked bottoms pointed exotically at the camera.

Still fully clothed Karyn wielded a wooden paddle, moving along the row, striking each in turn with a resounding crack, which drew very convincing yelps and squeals from the victims, as well as jerking bodies and shuffling limbs, while hands fluttered to rub at the stinging patches of redness which soon covered much of the expanse of proffered flesh. Odette’s haunches might not have shown quite as vividly the flaming red brands which stood out so exquisitely on Liz and Jill’s rears, but she clearly felt their effects just as deeply for she howled and writhed loudest of all, and had to be held down forcibly by the ‘governess’ to receive her chastisement.

Clearly, Karyn had warmed to her task, and the girls’ cries and wriggling were genuine enough, as were the glowing patches crimsoning their behinds. There was no faking the stinging severity of the beatings, and no stunt girls or stand-ins, and though there were no retakes the trio were deeply relieved when they heard the cry of, ‘Cut!’

‘I think I have been,’ Odette wailed, gratefully accepting the hand towel soaked in cold water which was passed to her.

But she and her two fellow sufferers had their opportunity for revenge. In the second and final scene the three turned the tables on their assailant and stripped her, not only of her outer garments, but of underwear as well, and tied her hand and foot before piling pillows under her midriff to raise into prominence the target of her pale buttocks, whose ample globes quivered delightfully and glowed entrancingly at the vigorous attentions applied to them by all three of her cohorts.

Jill was glad when it was confirmed that nothing more was required of them. She whispered as much to Liz as they all removed what they could of the thick make-up and surrendered their borrowed finery to put on their own clothes again. ‘They mostly concentrate on one thing in blue movies,’ Liz said knowledgeably. ‘Just thank goodness this was a straightforward spanker. Some of them can go pretty far, bondage and whipping, no joke. But Jack knows I don’t go in for any of that sort of stuff, and I wouldn’t let my girls in for it either.’

‘Oh, we’re your girls now, are we?’ Jill said, and Liz smiled and gave her a swift hug.

Karyn was in the process of easing a pair of white briefs up over her darkly marked buttocks. Her grey-blue eyes were moist with tears. They looked more animated than usual as she glowered at the dusky girl changing beside her. ‘You... you fucking beat too hard!’

‘My word, your English really is coming on a treat, Karyn,’ Liz quipped, and the docile blonde finally smiled reluctantly at the burst of laughter which erupted at the remark.

This latest meeting with Jackie had been set up through Andrea Wise, who was now part of the plainclothes surveillance. She and Jill had made contact in a café near the busy bus station. The dark-haired policewoman looked convincingly like any of the numerous young working girls that hung about the place, with her dramatic black eye make-up and tousled hairstyle, like a coxcomb. Her enviably full breasts were generously on display, spilling out of the scooped neckline of her hooped blouse, under the trendily scruffy denim battledress jacket. She was also showing the required several inches of sexily bare belly, flashing her navel between blouse and low-slung jeans.

‘Can’t stop long,’ Jill said, glancing around before she perched on the high stool next to the girl and gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. ‘I need to see DI Barlow. Things are coming on fast. They might be moving the two girls, Karyn and Odette, very soon. Tell her I can make it tomorrow night, about eight. If it’s not on tell her to ring me on my mobile.’ Jackie was Jill’s mum for any direct contact by phone.

‘I’m sure it’ll be OK. She’ll be delighted.’

Something about the tone of the remark made Jill glance sharply at her. Those vivid dark eyes gazed at her with a disturbing intensity and a certain hostility, she was sure. Or was it contempt? In spite of her recently developed skill at subterfuge, Jill felt herself colouring. The girl must know about her role, the things she had been required to do as part of it. Perhaps she had seen the taped interludes with Liz, which had gone out on Liz’s website. To say nothing of the infamous bed and bath scenario enacted with Tony Pope. With those loathsome creeps Wills and Harris having access to it all it was probably a foregone conclusion that several score of select viewers had been added to the list.

‘I don’t enjoy what I’m doing, you know,’ Jill blurted, unable to keep her cool at Andy’s sneering tone.

‘Could’ve fooled me!’

The plump cherry lips widened in an insufferable grin, and the dark eyes stared with insolent directness. Jill felt her fingers curl with the urge to slap her face hard. ‘Make sure the boss gets the message.’ She finished the rest of the milky coffee and put her left hand on Andy’s shoulder in a friendly parting gesture as she slid from the stool. She leaned close and Andy offered her cheek for another light kiss. ‘You look better in uniform,’ Jill murmured in her ear.

‘At least I keep my clothes on,’ the seated figure called out to Jill’s retreating back.

The next evening Jill managed to find a parking space for the Mini a street away from Jackie’s flat, and she took her time making the short trip to the old Victorian house, glancing about to make sure no one was following, or hanging about outside, before she swiftly climbed the front steps and rang Jackie’s bell. She spoke softly into the intercom in response to Jackie’s query, and heard the buzz and click that opened the front door. Seconds later she was safe in the cosily-lighted haven of the flat, and the enveloping hug of her superior, who kissed her possessively before she could even utter a greeting. The kiss ended at last but Jackie still did not release her, almost lifting her off her feet as they stumbled through to the lamp-lit living room. Only then did she let her go, and stood back to survey her.

She tutted admonishingly. ‘Oh, what have I told you, young lady? You forgetting the house rules already? Maybe you need a sharp reminder.’ She gestured at the dark slacks.

‘I had to wear them,’ Jill pleaded, as Jackie helped her out of the heavy jacket. ‘A chilly night like this; Liz would have been suspicious if I’d worn a skirt, or a dress.’

‘I see. She chooses your wardrobe for you now, does she?’ Her hands hauled roughly at Jill’s waist, undoing the metal fastener and unzipping the fly of the trousers. ‘Well you can get them off right now, lady.’ She began to tug the garment off Jill’s hips, and Jill sank back onto the settee as Jackie dragged them down over her knees, to cling around her calves, their further progress hampered by the ankle boots. ‘Oh shit, you’re going from bad to worse!’ Jackie exclaimed. ‘What’s this? Tights, for fuck’s sake? I’ll not have any bird of mine hiding under those sweaty aberrations. Lift your feet.’

Helplessly Jill obeyed, and Jackie heaved off the boots, then the trousers. She gestured impatiently. ‘Lift your bum, come on.’ Fingers scrabbled for the waistband of the gauzy tights and Jill was reminded of Tony Pope’s cold fingers as he had dragged down her clothing that day in the woods above St Mary’s abbey.

The tiny white cotton panties with their pricked little pattern were left in place, and the offending tights elongated as they were pulled from her feet while she sat there. The knickers were concealed beneath the folds of her shirt and the hem of the dark blue sweater. She had expected Jackie to continue until she had stripped her completely, but the older woman contented herself with tossing the removed items to one side and leaving Jill respectable from her thighs up.

‘It’s a wonder you haven’t got woolly drawers on, you little wimp,’ Jackie said scornfully. ‘So, I hope it’s all-nighters, my girl.’

Jill nodded, smiled ingratiatingly at her. ‘I’m visiting my folks.’

‘Excellent. In that case stand by for a bit of healthy incest, sweetheart.’ Jackie sat down beside Jill. She was wearing a pair of black sports shorts and a loose T-shirt. Her legs and feet were bare, and rubbed companionably alongside Jill’s. Her hand fell with a proprietary little slap on Jill’s right thigh and stayed there, gripping it firmly.

Then with startling suddenness she gripped and captured Jill’s wrists and pinned her arms up behind her head. She lay heavily on her, savouring the feel of the slim body trapped in the yielding sag of the cushions, the taut muscles and sinews struggling instinctively to escape. Jackie grinned, her nose inches from Jill’s. ‘How many muffs have you buried your little face in lately?’ she hissed. ‘And not only muffs! I know all you’ve been up to, sugar. All about your little day away with our friend Martin, and the night you and him spent afterwards, over in Westpool. Quite a cosy little shagging pit he’s got over there, hasn’t he?’ She felt the body go limp and the chest heaved. ‘I think you’d better say sorry, don’t you? Then take your punishment like the good little tart you are.’

‘Let me go,’ Jill complained futilely, and there was no real resistance when Jackie dragged her up, rolled her over across her bare knees and thrust up the shirt and sweater to the small of her back. Then she gave an exclamation of surprise as she hauled the tiny panties out of the crack of Jill’s bottom to rest them in a thin twist across the backs of her thighs. The fading marks of the spanking administered during the Victorian romp were still visible. ‘Ah, some bugger’s beaten me to it. What have you been up to, you kinky little mare?’

No longer conscious of her undignified sprawl over her aggressor’s knee with her knickers down round her thighs, Jill poured out a brief account of the episode which had earned these fading battle scars. ‘So there you are,’ she concluded ruefully. ‘Tell Wills and Harris to keep tuned in for some more dirty pictures for their archives.’

If she thought that her sad tale and overwrought state would help her evade the physical punishment about to be delivered, Jill was mistaken. However, the instrument of retribution was not the dreaded hairbrush but Jackie’s open palm, and though hard enough it was not wielded with anything like the venom with which her first disciplining had been administered. The hand rose and fell rapidly so that Jill squirmed ever more vigorously, and her feet sawed the air in helpless rhythm against the constraint of the knickers now banded round her knees. But the warm glow that spread over her clenching buttocks and the throbbing pain that spread with it also generated an insidious, completely different sensation low in her tummy and her sex, and made a new fusion of the pain and pleasure into an irresistible oneness.

It was satisfied with shattering intensity timeless minutes later; Jill had no idea how many, or any awareness of time’s passing. It was all endless ecstasy, but the tears were still wet on her cheeks when, under the merciless assault of a very different nature, her body shook and arched and bucked in a seizure of consuming release. She was sprawled on the carpet now; legs spread wide, her heels drumming. The cotton knickers had gone, hauled down like a flag of surrender, and lay beside the settee in a crumpled ball. The blue sweater and white shirt were thrust up to bunch just below her heaving breasts; the rest of her pale frame exposed to Jackie’s wicked conquest. The hands, the seeking fingers, the lapping tongue, the kissing lips and nipping teeth, took complete possession of the blissfully yielded territory, and total victory was just a matter of time before Jill’s buttocks tightened and bounced, her sex mound buffeting the wet face buried between her thighs, her scream the final cry of capitulation and physical consummation.

Later they heated up a ready meal and shared a bottle of wine. Jackie refused to allow Jill either to get dressed or to remove the clothing she was still wearing. ‘No, it gives me a chance to cool off a bit, though those lovely legs of yours keep the pulse rate up.’ They carried their plates through from the kitchen and relaxed in front of the glowing fire.

It was after midnight, when she was lying naked, both of them sleepily exhausted, their bodies loosely together under the blankets and her head in the crook of Jackie’s arm, that she took the chance of the darkness and their post-coital intimacy to voice the thoughts that crowded disturbingly in on her. ‘Does it really bother you, me being involved in all of this? I mean the sex; me with Liz, doing all those things in front of a camera, and with those other two girls?’ She paused, and her voice was even more uncertain when she spoke again. ‘And... with Tony Pope?’

The ease of the reply was hurtful to Jill’s sensitivity. ‘No, why should it? No point in me getting all steamed up about it. Not when it’s me who’s put you there. And anyway, you still belong to me, don’t you?’ Her hand moved, fell onto Jill’s tummy and slid down, and cupped her sex mound in eloquent illustration. It stayed there, possessive, not initiating any further arousal, just holding the soft flesh in territorial claim to it.

‘Yes, but...’ Jill’s soft murmur quavered and she felt her throat closing. ‘I’m shocked at myself at what I’m doing. I never thought I could... that I was like that. It cheapens me.’

The answer was immediate and blunt. ‘That’s a load of balls, babe. Or shit, if you prefer. You know your trouble? I saw it the minute you walked through the door for the first time, at the nick. I’ve seen kids like you before - you’re too nice, you’ve been too well brought up, too sheltered. You’re getting to be a rare breed these days, believe me. Girls today are more liable to drop their knicks and moon a crowd of blokes in the middle of the High Street, or glass each other when they’re pissed out of their skulls in some bar. But not your kind. Middle class, brought up with a whole heap of inhibitions so that you blush every time you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror and are racked with guilt every time you fiddle with your fanny. Right?’

Jill squirmed involuntarily at the aptness of the frank observation. The earthy diatribe continued.

‘I mean, you’re twenty-two, yes? And never had a dick inside you? You tell that to most people, to practically anybody, and they’d say no way. They’d call you a liar, straight up. But I didn’t. I believed you, sweety. So why should I get all uptight about it when to all intents and purposes I’m the one who put you there? Unless of course now you’ve tasted it, if you’ll pardon the expression, you’re madly in love with that tosser, Pope, and all you want to do is have his babies. And that’s not true, is it?’

‘No!’ Jill cried. ‘Of course not. But... but...’ she floundered, couldn’t hold the tears back, and all at once she turned, like a child, sought out and buried her face in Jackie’s warm breasts and clung to her desperately. ‘I don’t know what I want, or who I am any more. I feel as if I don’t know myself, or what I’m capable of. I can have sex... with Liz, with those other girls, and even with Tony - ’

‘Ah, so it’s Tony now, is it? All very cosy, are we?’ But Jackie’s mockery sounded perfectly good-humoured and she responded comfortingly to Jill’s desperate embrace. ‘So shagging with a bloke’s different, and now you know what it’s like, so no big deal. I can see it’s made no difference to the way you and me can get it off together.’ The hand between Jill’s thighs tightened its grip momentarily, but with no ulterior intent. ‘And I guess you’re not lying there wishing I had a great big dick you could play with.’ She chuckled over Jill’s squeal of protest. ‘Though even if you were, that could be arranged. Not that I’m a great fan of dildos, mind you. I don’t need a substitute for what I haven’t got, thank you very much, because I’m quite happy with what I have got. And I can see you are, too.’

She moved, turned towards Jill, and slipped her left leg over the other’s hip, bringing her closer so that their breasts nestled together as she folded the younger girl tenderly into her. ‘All you’ve got to do is be a bit more sex-positive, babe. It’s something we’ve all got inside us, and it’s not something to be ashamed of or try to deny. A loving tongue and fingers in your cunt feel good, they make you come, and it’s wild. It’s not dirty and it’s not a sin. It’s natural. That’s the whole purpose and design of that little clit inside there.’ She grunted. ‘And OK,’ she conceded, ‘maybe a bloke’s cock can do the same thing for you now and then, and that’s no big deal, either. Let’s face it, Jilly, there isn’t only one tongue or one hand or even one cock that’s uniquely meant to bring you off and send you soaring into the wild blue yonder. There’s lots of them can do that, and good luck to them. And if you can find a little loving to go along with it, then that’s even better. But that’s inside here...’ Jackie’s hand moved to Jill’s brow, where a finger tapped lightly on her forehead.

She leaned in close until their heads were touching, and searched for Jill’s lips, kissed her lightly. ‘I might raise blisters on your cute little arse now and then, but then maybe that’s just my way of showing my feelings. Got that?’

Jill sighed. She had a sudden vision of Andrea Wise’s pneumatic backside bared and waiting to be transported under the fall of the hairbrush and tried to dispel it from her mind.

‘Now let’s get some sleep before I launch another dawn attack on that luscious little quim of yours. So, if it makes you feel better, tell me you love me and shut the fuck up, right?’

‘I love you.’

‘I love you what?’

‘I love you, Ma’am.’

Jill fell asleep, cushioned in the warm, enfolding embrace.