Pussy playland
When I was 18 I had an older boyfriend. His name was Alex.
One day I was in his bedroom, going through his things on top of his
dresser. Just nosing around, wearing my cuffed jeans and my concert
t-shirt. He’d bought it for me last week after I’d taken his dare and
bared my boobs to the band. I was feeling daring, suddenly, and perhaps
it was some Goddess’s wish that I found a little pin on his dresser and
felt curious enough to ask him about it. We had just known each other
long enough to be frank. He was.
“Oh, that’s a sex club I joined last year,” he told me. He was
casual, but I saw something rise up in the crotch of his shorts as he
spoke.
For a moment I was speechless. Then, blustering, I said, “You
belong to a sex club?!”
“Not since I met you,” he added hastily. But he seemed about
as credible as a boy with one hand in the cookie jar as he said it.
It didn’t take me long to go storming out of his apartment. I
didn’t care if he was the handsomest surfer dude on the beach, I was NOT
hanging with some dude who belonged to a sex club.
But, wouldn’t you know, I found myself pining away for him in
the middle of the night. Every night. Finally I decided to get back in
with him. And, of course, being an older guy, he had no hangups about
me being a brat. Older guys who like younger girls don’t seem to mind
if they’re brats. It might even make them like us better.
One day, gulping down my pride (not to mention my modesty) I
agreed to try his sex club myself. He said he’d be proud to ‘show me
off.’ That took another week to get over. Finally, when all my
reservations had peeled away, I agreed definitely to try it. I should
have known I was getting in over my head when he told me I’d have to be
‘interviewed’ by a woman before I could be accepted.
“Well, I’m very pleased to meet you, Kelly,” the woman said
when I met her at a coffee shop. She quickly assured me that she’d
cover the bill. I could have whatever I wanted. The prices were
glamoursly high, so I decided to have just coffee, the same as hers.
Perhaps for my sake she ordered a chocolate-flavored coffee.
We chatted. About sex. I confessed to her that I’d had very
little of it.
“But you’re willing to try,” Tabitha suggested. That was her
name. She looked about 30 and was sleek as a model, with long tapering
legs and delicate hands and glorious, glossy long hair, but with bosoms
much bigger than any runway model. I must admit I felt a little
intimidated in her presence. I was just a schoolgirl, with my t-shirt
that said “LOSER” on it and my jeans that were torn in the knees. Even
my hair, which I’d tried extra hard to make perfect, had been caught
outside the restaurant by a big gust of wind that had left it hopelessly
tousled. Tabitha, who’d been inside waiting for me, had not met with
any unfortunate breezes.
But Tabitha assured me I looked ‘absolutely lovely,’ as she put
it. I knew I must look pretty good, because Alex didn’t hang with
uncool chicks. Just to get him, I’d had to pry away a redhead who
looked like a Penthouse Pet.
When she’d quizzed me completely on my sex experiences and
(much more to the point in my case) my unfulfilled sexual fantasies, she
took out a little form. She told me I should write my name on it and
sign it. I looked at it carefully. Mom always told me to never sign
anything. It said, “I hereby state that I am old enough to make
decisions for myself, and that I wish to be an applicant member of the
Brentwood Sex Club.” Maybe it was my own mom’s admonition about not
signing anything that got me to sign. We weren’t getting along at the
time. I was feeling rebellious and she had just joined the Mormon
Church. Not the best match for parent-teen relations. So I signed.
When I was done I wanted to rip up the application but Tabitha’s hand
stole it away from me before I’d even realized what I’d done. The
interview ended at that point. She bid me goodbye, asked if I wanted a
ride home (I declined) and then left the restaurant by way of her
Mersedes. I rode my bike home.
You might be thinking I was too young to join a sex club. But,
looking at me from a distance, you wouldn’t have known it. I stared at
myself in the mirror that night and gawked at how different I looked
from just a year earlier. My hips were still a little on the slim side
but I’d gained height and my bosoms looked like some michievous boy had
blown them up in my sleep with a tire pump. I was a sight to behold. I
knew if I’d had fake I.D. I could have signed with Playboy tomorrow.
Not Penthouse, maybe (my boyfriend says they have older girls) but
definitely Playboy. Or that awful Hudson Hawk magazine I once found in
my boyfriend’s apartment (left, he said, by a pervert friend of his)
that features girls actually DOING IT to each other! I’d never pose for
a magazine like that.
My boyfriend said my first party at the sex club would be on
the beach, along a small private portion of the beach. He told me to
just wear my best swimsuit and (to make sure I looked really great) he
fronted me the money to go buy whatever I wanted at the bikini shop.
‘The sexier the better,’ he told me. ‘And don’t mind the cost.’ He
gave me more than plenty to buy whatever they had.
I bought a little silk number that was skimpy as sin. When I
showed up at his apartment in it he got another one of his ‘rises’ in
his pants instantly. It was tied off with bows. The bra cups were slim
triangles and the bottom portion was cut so low you could see the first
few wisps of my pussy hair curling seductively out of the top of it. In
back, it couldn’t make up its mind whether it wanted to be a thong or
not. The compromise kept wedging in my ass crack, which kept my hands
busier than I liked.
“You came over in THAT?” my boyfriend asked. He sounded like
my dad that I see once a year.
“Um, yeah, you said to buy a sexy one,” I told him.
“Well, don’t answer my door if somebody knocks. I’m liable to
have half the beach up here in a minute,” he told me. He lived in a
walkup apartment, on the second floor. I’d parked my bike outside,
chained it, and trotted on up the stairs without really thinking about
how I looked. I mean, I always wore bikinis, and I was getting to like
the more daring ones. This one was just a tad more daring than any of
the others, that’s all. I figured he was feeling nervous about what we
were going to do together. I know I was.
In the car driving over (he had a nice big pickup) he said,
“Don’t get attached to that swimsuit. You’re liable to lose it.” I
felt a whole swarm of butterflies rise up in my tummy when he said
that. But he assured me that he’d buy me another just like it if I
‘behaved,’ as he put it.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be a brat,” I told him.
“Good,” he replied.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Probably to pull up to some
gigantic penis-shaped house with lechers leering out at me from every
window. Instead, Alex pulled up to a very modest house along the
beach. Tabitha met us at the door. She gave me an admiring look.
Then, without so much as an indiscreet word, she led us out back to her
private yard.
The party was just getting started. A big spread of food was
laid out. Fresh scalloped fish, salmon steaks, a smoked cheese ball,
some pub dip, and all kinds of veggies for people like me who liked to
graze and play vegetarian.
The yard was sheltered by a phalanx of palm trees that
surrounded all three sides of it. The beach lay just beyond, through a
small wooden gate. A hedge served to keep prying eyes away. Here and
there along the small swaths of neatly clipped grass various flowers
grew, adding their scent to the delicious aroma of the food.
The girls at the party ranged in age from a little older than
me to women in their early 30’s. Most of them had bikinis on, although
a few of the older women opted for t-shirts too, as if to separate
themselves a little from us younger girls. Tabitha had on a t-shirt but
her bosoms jiggled so freely I quickly guessed there was no bra at all
underneath.
The men were all older than me. Some were as young as Alex,
while others couldn’t be any less than 40. They all looked quite
handsome, though, with the younger ones being especially cute while the
older ones exuded a sense of reserve and power that I found a real
turn-on.
I helped myself to the food and found everyone to be very cool
and delightful. Soon I had almost forgotten that I was at a sex club
party. I chatted with different girls. Everyone welcomed me without
the slightest presumption or indifference. I actually felt more welcome
there than at my mom’s church socials, where they were always preaching
‘love and friendship.’
Then, suddenly, as I was walking casually across the grass,
with a drink in my hand, eating a slice of the cheeseball, somebody
untied my top. I almost dropped my drink as I tried to keep my bra cups
from slipping into the space between my breasts. I found myself
standing there, in front of everyone, with my bosoms showing as if I
were some Polynesian girl. Tabitha slipped up beside me. She slid her
hand up over my shoulders and behind my hair and undid the part of my
bra that was tied behind my neck. In a moment my bra had dropped to the
grass. I was truly topless, with nothing to hide my tits from all the
friendly eyes.
“You have such lovely breasts,” Tabitha said to me. Her voice
was soft but had a strange yearning in it. “Please let them be seen.”
My boyfriend came over to me and picked my bra up off the grass and
stuffed it in the pocket of his shorts.
“Alex!” I hissed. He grinned.
“Enjoy the party,” he said. Then everything went back to
normal. Except, of course, I was topless. Nobody else was. I pleaded
with Alex to give me my top back but he told me not to embarass him. So
I was left to mingle just as I had before, but with my breasts bouncing
in front of me quite freely and nakedly. Traitorously, my nipples stood
up immediately and refused to go back down. They caught more than a few
eyes as I tried to regain my composure and let people talk to me. The
girls spoke to me just as before. They tried very hard to be friendly
and put me at ease. The men, obviously, were more interested in my
breasts than my face when I talked to them. But everyone was very nice
about it and, again, I soon found myself enjoying their company and
trying not to think about how my breasts stood out.
I was talking to a girl named Beth when Tabitha came up to her
with a can of whipped cream. I thought she was talking about Beth’s
plateful of strawberries when she asked her, “May I?” Beth nodded. She
held her plate off to one side and looked down at herself, arching out
her hips, as Tabitha neatly opened her bikini panties in front. With a
quick shake of the can, Tabitha filled the front of Beth’s panties with
the cream.
“Ooooh,” Beth shivered. I had no doubt the cream was cold.
The can had speckles of moisture on the outside of it, like a Pepsi
fresh from the fridge.
“You’re next,” Tabitha said to me. She didn’t ask my
permission. But she did slip a hand behind the small of my back and
gently ease my hips into an outthrust position. Then she moved her hand
to the front of my panties, pulled them open, and filled me up with
cream.
“There,” Tabitha said to me when she finished. Gosh, that
cream was cold! I nearly screeched and dropped a plateful of celery and
pub dip, but at the last minute I managed to control myself.
I looked at Beth as Tabitha moved away from us. “It’s cold,” I
confessed to her.
“Don’t I know,” Beth replied. She smiled at me and I couldn’t
help smiling back. A girl came up behind her and undid her top. Beth
shrugged it off and I found myself with a boob-mate. She was now as
‘bad off’ as I was.
And the rest soon followed. Tops were discarded and t-shirts
and tops came off just as readily. Amazingly, when I looked around, I
didn’t see a sagging pair of tits anywhere. They were all firm and high
and wonderfully beautiful. I felt like I was at a convention for breast
cancer prevention or something. ‘Don’t wear a bra, dear, and let them
stick out freely,’ I thought I might hear some bra-burning feminist say
to me.
Meanwhile, as if whipped cream in my panties and no bra weren’t
stimulating enough, I saw that the men were stripping off their clothes
to just their Speedoes. Some guys hadn’t worn Speedoes, but
inexplicably had on underpants instead. They were the fashion kind, too
small to wear for comfort. I didn’t mind. The sight was heavenly.
Beth and I forgot to eat our food and just stood and stared at them as
they stripped down to their last piece of clothing. Tabitha, ever handy
with her whipped cream, insisted on squirting the men full of cream just
as she did us ladies. The men had much less room to spare.
And so the party proceeded. Once everyone had been ‘cooled
off’ by a little cream in their shorts, the affair proceeded just as
nonchalantly as if we were still clothed in our bras. I could hear
people playing volleyball on the beach. I was thankful they couldn’t
see into our yard. Imagine seeing a yardful of people where the girls
were all topless and everyone had cream in their pants!
I heard a roll of thunder in the distant summer sky. I put my
hand out. A few raindrops, as if offering some bit of feminine
sprinkling at seeing all the men get creamed, fell into my hand.
Tabitha came up to me and lifted a newspaper over my head and sheltered
me with it.
“It’s okay, I’m wearing a bikini,” I wanted to say to her, but
she began hurrying me toward her house. Despite the tall, thick hedge
and the phalanx of palms, her private backyard wasn’t safe from the
rain, and I was, apparently, too special to get wet. It seemed silly to
me. Already I was noticeably moist in the crotch of my swimsuit. But,
with a newspaper keeping me dry, she took me past the rain sprinkled
flowerbeds and up the back steps of her porch. We slipped in the back
door. The others followed. Apparently none of the girls wished to get
their bikinis wet. We regrouped in Tabitha’s living room. Two men,
their shoulders lightly sprinkled with rain, bent down before her
fireplace. They put logs into the brick hearth. They took the logs
from a small decorative pile stacked in a cast iron rack. I watched as
they lit the fire. Their rumps were barely contained in their
Speedoes. I could see streaks of wetness on their nylon-covered butts
where the rain had struck them. When they turned back toward us, I saw
that there was a substantial wet spot on the front of their swimsuits,
where their cocks lay strangled like captive snakes within their
briefs. The wetness, I knew, wasn’t from the rain. Or from Tabitha’s
contribution of cream. Had they cum? I hoped not. They had terrific
builds and looked like they could keep me busy all night in ways my
mother would find quite unacceptable.
I touched a finger to the front of my panties and depressed the
bulge in my swim suit where the whipped cream was puffing me up. Was
this what it felt like to be a man? To have sperm?
Tabitha busied herself with a brush, brushing my hair, as if my
short walk to her house had somehow tousled it. I felt like a lamb
being prepared for dinner.
“Shall I get the clamps?” Beth asked Tabitha with a tone of
cheery expectation in her voice.
“Yes, please,” Tabitha replied. She touched a pair of fingers
to my closest nipple and lovingly began arousing it. I looked down,
watched her. Scissorslike, but with deceptive tenderness, her fingers
toyed with my nipple. When she’d finished with my first one, she
slipped her fingers to my other one. I thought I’d been excited before,
but her teasing fingers made me even more responsive. My panties were
getting wetter by the minute.
To my horror Beth returned with a pair of small, shell-like
clamps. They seemed to be made from a pair of oyster shells. She
squeezed one open and I saw that it was lined with felt inside.
Opposite the tiny mouth a tassled weight was hung. I couldn’t believe
that I’d been relieved of my bra only to have these biting little
monsters put on instead. The weights, would they not distort my
breasts? I knew African women wore disks that hung from their neck and
made their breasts flat, like pancakes. I liked my full round breasts.
But Tabitha stroked my left nipple and pressed it up with her tickling
finger so that Beth would be able to easily clamp it. One moment I was
fighting an oncoming swoon from Tabitha’s attentions, and the next I
found myself screaming.
“There, there, it doesn’t hurt that much,” Tabitha told me. My
unprotected left nipple had been bitten and enclosed within a clamp. I
feared that the insidious clamp would clip it right off me! Tabitha
slipped a finger between my lips and stifled my scream as best she
could. I watched with frightened, teary eyes as Beth proffered the
remaining clamp and closed it over my right nipple. Oh, how it hurt!
When I calmed down a little bit I found that I could handle it. But the
weights made my breasts feel heavy. I felt as if I had twin babies
sucking at my bosoms. Tabitha turned me by my shoulders and displayed
me to her guests. She pushed me forward with a pat on my bottom and
made me walk through the crowd, showing them my newly clamped teats.
Oh, how I envied the other girls, with their nipples sticking
out erect and free. Mine had jangling weights that, I found as I
walked, had little bells within them. They made my nipples sound like
tinkling aspirants to a bell choir. The men stared avidly. They seemed
to wish to shepherd me into their arms, as if I were a sheep that needed
to be put to pasture.
“You could clip her cunny lips and make them carry weighted
bells too,” a woman told Tabitha as she watched me walk by. I showed
everyone my breasts and let them admire me. I liked being the center of
attention, but I suspected seeing me wince as the clamps pinched my
boobs was half the fun for my wicked friends. When I found Alex, at the
back of the room, he was letting a girl scoop the cream out of his
Speedoes with her fingers. He looked up at me, surprised.
“Kelly!” he said. His voice choked as he spoke. His new
girlfriend, a girl who looked no older than me, popped her cream-laden
fingers into her mouth. She smiled smugly at me as she licked them
clean. “This is Francine,” Alex told me.
“Pleased to meet you,” Francine said to me. But she spoke with
an aristocratic French accent that let me know in no uncertain terms
that I was, in her mind, just a hopeless amateur.
Infuriated, red-faced, I turned away from my boyfriend. I had
come here for him! Now he had hooked up with some 14-year-old slut from
France and was ignoring me completely! My arms hung at my sides but I
felt my hands ball into fists. Did I want to punch somebody? I could
feel my fingernails cutting into the skin of my palms, I was so angry.
Suddenly I belted the man nearest me. I didn’t know his name. I didn’t
care. I just slammed my fist into his belly and walked away.
Fortunately, being just a girl, my punch did no more than
startle him. His stomach was hard and flat and segmented into squares
of muscle. He laughed and seemed appreciative that I’d singled him out
for my anger. His buddies complimented him on his sex appeal. I
stomped back to Tabitha but, just as I reached her, I turned and looked
back at my poor victim. Our eyes met and immediately I knew I wanted
him. He was tall, muscular, dark and businesslike, not like Alex, who
was blonde and a beach bum. I guessed my new friend spent most of his
days wearing suits and driving hard bargains in downtown L.A. while Alex
hung around the beach seducing young girls and waxing his surfboard.
Fuck Alex! He was going nowhere. So what if all us girls adored him?
I’d be different. I let my new friend know I had an interest in him by
letting our gaze linger. Then, on impulse, I yanked down the back of my
bikini and mooned him. I made it look like I wanted to offend him
again. But, from my gaze, he knew offending him was the last thing I
wanted to do.
“Oh, my! Now you’re being naughty!” Tabitha said. She was
standing in front of me and couldn’t see my eyes, since my head was
turned back. Abruptly she reached out and yanked on my hair and pulled
my head down so that I found myself looking at my knees. “Get the
bon-bons,” she told Beth. My girlfriend, her breasts bouncing merrily,
fetched a plate that was sitting on a cocktail table. She presented it
to Tabitha. “Unwrap one of the bon-bons, please, while I hold her
down,” Tabitha told Beth. My girlfriend put the plate on a chair next
to us. She took a bon-bon from it and unwrapped the gold foil that
enclosed it.
I felt large calloused male hands clasp my bare bottom cheeks.
I had not gotten my panties pulled back up and now it seemed too late.
They bunched under my bottom and I reached back behind myself to draw
them up but the male at my heinie brushed my hands away. It was the
same man I’d mooned!
“You’re in luck, dear,” Tabitha said to me, still holding my
head down so I couldn’t stand up. “You managed to offend one of
Hollywood’s top agents. If you were a male, that would be fatal. But
as a female, it’s possible for you to redeem yourself. Stuart, don’t
you like to spend your recreational time on the weekends introducing
aspiring starlets to the business?”
“Well, I introduce their business end to the business...”
Stuart said. His voice sounded lusty, almost as if he were having to
restrain himself from some overwhelming desire.
“She has one of the prettiest bottoms we’ve ever had here,
don’t you think?” Tabitha asked Stuart in a conversational tone.
“I’d love to...” Stuart began, but his voice broke off as his
huge palms squeezed my little cheeks impulsively. He seemed to want to
lay claim to me and make me his own. I felt like a deer caught in a
hunter’s trap.
“Do you want to spank her, like you do all the other girls you
meet?” Tabitha asked Stuart.
“I... usually don’t confine myself to just a spanking,” Stuart
replied. His hands gripped my ass harder. I wanted to cry out, the
pressure of his grip and his fingers was so hard. Beth, holding an
unwrapped bon-bon, slipped a finger into the front of Stuart’s
Speedoes. Very nonchalantly, and with an ease and grace that made the
whole thing impossibly silly in its simplicity, she drew the front of
Stuart’s swimsuit down and released his cock. Stifled for so long, it
sprang out like a hungry animal. His dong whacked my heinie and I felt
a large dollop of pre-cum splat onto my bottom. Wiggling freely behind
me, Stuart let out a great sigh. I heard a chorus of ooohs and aaaahs
from the assembled females. Then, not to have their own boyfriends
outdone, they loosed them in turn. Soon each female was not only
looking with admiration at the man she’d freed, but was comparing him to
all the other men, who now stood with their swimsuits pulled down so
that their cream-covered cocks could waggle freely, as God intended, in
the cool air of the room. Outside I could hear the rain coming down
hard. We’d just escaped it in time. I guessed the beachgoers had left
the water to escape any lightning and were huddled up along the seawall
under their umbrellas. I felt the warmth from our nearby fire against
my skin. We were safe and dry, but I was unfortunately bent over and
had a man angry with me.
“Darling, as a new applicant to our club you must, of course,
be tested sexually,” Tabitha told me as I admired my knees. “School
tests you academically, a boss might test your aptitude for typing, but
here we are concerned only with your sexuality. Your cunt, your hiney
hole, your nipples, and your mouth and your hands and all those parts of
you that are or can be made sexually responsive. First, you must be
stuffed. All girls are when they first join the club, to awaken them to
their full potential.” Tabitha stroked my long blonde hair with her
fingers as she spoke to me. Her touch was light, but I knew I mustn’t
stand. It would just get me even more into trouble, and I seemed to
have let myself in for more than I wished already. Stuart held my
bottom possessively, as if someone else might steal me from him if he
backed away. Which, indeed, was almost bound to happen, given how many
hard, hunky guys we had in the room. Any one of them would have wowed
me and my friends right out of our bikinis if he’d come striding down
the beach. Even as little girls, before we’d grown breasts and could
make handsome men notice us, we’d sit playing in the sand and watch them
go by and dream of being kidnapped and undressed and, well, whatever it
was men did to females. Raped, I guess. Told what to do and made to be
their obedient little slaves. We would wonder how many girls a man
could father in us as he walked by (never mind that we were too young to
get pregnant). We had a theory that the fuller he was in his swimsuit,
the more babies he could make. Silly, of course, but we thought it was
true. Now I had Stuart behind me and he was armed with a dong my
friends and I, as little girls, would have agreed could father the
‘mostest’ babies. I squirmed to try to escape his grip but he tightened
his fingers upon me.
I found myself sniffing Beth’s bon bon. She was holding it
under my nose. “You’ll want to lick it, honey. It’s going up your
ass,” Beth told me frankly. I felt my tummy flip. For a moment I just
stared at the bon bon, feeling queasy.
“Lick it,” Stuart told me gruffly. Oh, I wanted to cry out for
Alex but he had betrayed me! Feeling a bit of anger rising within me I
stuck out my tongue and tentatively licked the bon bon.
“More,” Beth told me. “Get it wet. It needs to be wet or
you’ll feel like an ox being gored.” I licked again, letting my tongue
lave the bon bon completely with my saliva. When I withdrew my tongue
it was all chocolatey. “Very good,” Beth said. Still holding the bon
bon, she took it from my lips and presented it to my bottom hole. I
felt Stuart thumb my tight little cheeks apart. Beth brushed back her
hair from her face, bent over my butthole, and pushed the bon bon
against my sphincter. My ring of flesh resisted, but the bon bon was
slick and wet. A puff of air escaped my lips, which parted into a
pretty O. At the same time I felt the bon bon slip within my hole.
Stuart, his cock dripping cum, shoved his penis tip against the bon bon
as it sunk with me. I gasped as Stuart persuaded it deeper by jabbing
at it with his cock.
“Ohhhhhh!” I cried. I felt Stuart’s manhood push almost within
me to the flange of his bulbous cockhead. Then, finding me too tight to
go deeper, he withdrew himself. Beth presented me with another bon
bon. Hesitantly I licked it. Before I could stop myself, I’d made it
as wet as the first. I was feeling heady with the blood rushing down to
my head and my bottom felt warm and loved. Stuart’s hands still gripped
me like a calf about to be branded. Beth bent, put the second bon bon
in me, and Stuart jabbed it up my chute with his big cock.
The procedure continued. With fearful licks I wet each bon bon
and it was then pressed within my hienie hole by Beth. Stuart made sure
each one went up as far as his big dick could push it. I never felt him
past the flange of his cockhead, he was so big, but each jab from him
pushed not just the newest bon bon into me but all the others that had
preceeded it. Soon I was as full in my bottomhole as a plastic
candycane that’s stuffed with chocolates for Christmas.
Gently Stuart drew the seat of my panties back up over my
fanny. Tabitha took her hand off my head and let me stand up. When I
rose, my face flushed and gasping at my plight, she kissed me lovingly
on my lips.
“Yes, dear, welcome to the club,” Tabitha said to me. And boy,
did she mean it. I was topless but wearing clamps over my nipples. I
was permitted a bikini bottom but I had whipped cream squirted all over
my pussy and chocolates up my ass. The only part of me that was left
unviolated and untested was my cunt. And now Tabitha spoke quietly a
sentence that sent chills down my spine.
“Louis is going to fuck you in your cunny while you have the
chocolates up your ass,” Tabitha told me. “And your pretty mouth is
going to suck off your boyfriend Alex.” I let out a shocked cry of
alarm but she shushed me by putting a finger to my lips. “You must
still respect Alex even if you don’t like him anymore,” Tabitha said.
“But he--!” I began.
“This is a sex club, darling, not a bible club,” Tabitha said.
Her voice was polite but firm. “We are here to share and share alike.
You’ll get to know all the members.”
“And their members,” Beth giggled. Tabitha shot a glance of
disapproval at her for cracking such an amateurish joke. She flushed a
little and looked down at her toes. Then, as if to redeem herself, she
took a bon bon from the bowl, unwrapped it, and bent over and pulled
down the back of her panties. As I watched, Tabitha palming and palping
my breasts and Stuart stroking my thighs, the two of them enjoying my
body, Beth licked the bon bon she was holding and put it into her own
bottom! Fascinated, two men standing behind her watched with gladdened
eyes. She was bold and they knew it boded well for them should they be
lucky enough to get her. Their own girlfriends, seeing their ardor,
fondled their dicks to remind them that they already had willing females
standing right beside them.
“There is no reason to wait any longer,” Tabitha observed. She
kissed my neck and my slim well-tanned shoulders. My bosoms, white and
untanned, stood out in stark contrast to my brown limbs and belly. She
hefted my bosoms in her hands and squeezed them appreicatively. I
wished she would take off the clamps but she seemed to have no interest
in that yet. Instead she turned, called out to Alex to beckon him, and
then walked me from the room. Her arm clasped me round my slim waist.
She whispered sweetnesses into my ear to reassure me. I felt all queasy
in my belly but Stuart, walking along beside me, opposite Tabitha, let
me know by a firm hand on my jiggling ass that I had nowhere to run to.
Beth, feeling a little funny with a bon bon up her butt, followed us.
We walked down a hallway and for a moment it seemed the most
natural thing, me just walking with two friends, albeit feeling a mite
uncomfortable in my heinie. The carpet was soft and soundless under my
high-heeled sandles. My bosoms, weighted but otherwise free, jostled in
front of me, making me feel their presence with their every fleshy
jiggle. In my panties my cunt was warm and very moist. The whipped
cream seemed to have invaded me but its chilliness had warmed to the
temperature of my body. It had begun seeping from the lowest portions
of my panties and running like sperm down the insides of my thighs. I
felt fucked but I’d not been touched yet. I was indubitubly female. I
heard Alex and Francis following, with Beth just behind me.
We stepped through a door into an elegant bedroom. There was a
huge master bed, made of cherry wood. Its sheets and cover were already
turned back. Beside it, on a night table, sat a large bowl with neon
condoms piled in it. Around the bowl stood vials of ointment and tubes
of cream.
The bedroom was papered with flowery rose wallpaper. In one
corner stood a large fishtank, bubbling away, with long green reeds
waving in its depths and little fishes swimming amongst them. I spotted
a baby red grouper. The fish stared at us with wide, unknowing eyes.
Trailing out from under the pillow on the bed was the tail of a
something. For a moment I was about to scream, thinking there was a
snake in the bed. But I gulped and saw, as we drew closer, that it was
not a snake I saw but the tail of a snakeskin lash. Coiled around the
two posts that framed the bed’s headboard were slim white ropes.
Tabitha guided me to the bed and made me sit down on it. “Take off your
panties, dear,” she told me frankly. She did not wait to see that I
obeyed but turned away and pulled open a cupboard within the night
stand. She lifted out a large porcelain punch bowl. She turned to the
men amongst us.
“Let’s pee now, gentlemen, so we don’t have to interrupt things
later,” she announced. Tabitha went up to Stuart and presented the bowl
to his penis. Quickly, as if shucking off his shorts in a men’s locker
room, Stuart pulled down his Speedoes and stepped out of them. He
tossed them aside and I gazed at them lying on the rug. They looked so
small and compact. How could they have possibly held his giant prick?
It was at least ten inches, all covered with cream, and he thrust it
into the waiting bowl and began to pee. How silly it looked to see pee
spurting out of a dick all slathered with Redi-Whip! He glanced over at
me expectantly as he peed. Dutifully I untied my bikini panties and
took them off. I folded them properly and lay them on the corner of the
nightstand, where the condoms and ointments waited. Without even
realizing it, watching Stuart as he peed, gazing at his flexing ass
cheeks, I delicately put a fingertip to my clitty and began twiddling
it. Beth, equally impassioned, put a finger to her spot without even
taking her panties off.
When Stuart was done peeing Tabitha took his offering into the
bathroom adjoining her bedroom and emptied it in the toilet. Stuart
watched her walk out and stood, waiting like a schoolboy, for her
return. When she did come back it was to interrupt Alex, who stood
exchanging kisses with Francis, and ask him for his donation. Alex peed
lustily into the bowl as Beth and I watched, preparing ourselves for
their seed by rubbing our cunnies. Francis pulled Alex’s swimsuit down
off his bottom and gave his buns a hearty slap. He hollared at the
sting and pushed his cock more boldly into the bowl, trying to pee even
faster so he could get back to her.
“Thank you,” Tabitha smiled when he was done. She took his pee
to the restroom. This time, when she came back, it was with a glass of
clear water. In her hand she held two tablets.
“Beth, get your panties off!” Tabitha scolded my friend.
Sheepishly she stopped playing with herself and drew down her undies.
She stepped out of them, twirled them a moment on her finger, and then,
not thinking to be neat, simply tossed them onto the rug near Alex’s
briefs. “Go and have Kelly get aquainted with your pussy,” Tabitha told
her. “Kelly, lick your friend Beth clean. I want to get started and
everyone’s too messy for my tastes.” She walked up to Stuart and
presented the water to his dick. She dropped two tablets of
Alka-Seltzer into the glass and they immediately began fizzing. “Here’s
a little bath time fun for your penis,” she told him. Happily, awed by
her creativity, Stuart put his long penis into her cup. Only half of
his dong could fit inside. I watched through the glass as his penis was
engulfed by the little fizzing bubbles.
“Whoa, this feels cool!” Stuart remarked. Meanwhile Beth
presented her creamy bush to me. Lifting my fingers I put them to her
waist and drew her closer to me. I parted my legs so I could pull her
right up to my mouth. Watching Stuart out of one eye, I began to lick
Kelly’s bush clean.
Imagine! If you’d asked me two hours earlier if I’d ever lick
another girl’s bush, I’d have told you, ‘not in a million years!’ Yet,
in this elegant bedroom, with the fish and the waiting bowl of condoms
and the two men who were marvelously hard, I did not even give it a
second thought. I simply put my tongue into her creamy bush and began
licking. Beth, feeling a little sexy, arched her hips forward and
caressed my long hair as I tickled her with my tongue. I stopped after
a few minutes of attentive licking and looked up at her.
“Does it feel good?” I asked her.
“Lower,” she replied. “Lower.” She pushed her hips into my
face even more boldly. I licked down under her, where her private lay,
and she gasped as I found her spot.
By now Stuart had a partly clean dick, at least, the important
part where his cockhead loomed. Tabitha scraped the remaining cream on
his cock shaft, where it buried into his body, off with her fingers.
Then she went to the bathroom again, rinsed her fingers, and filled up a
new glass. She returned and interrupted Alex and Francis again to let
Alex wash his dick off. Francis encouraged him to get it very clean by
kneeling down and licking at the base of his shaft while Francis gave
his cockhead portion the Alka-Selzer treatment. Alex shouted at the
feeling of all those naughty little bubbles fizzing around his dick.
Meanwhile the fishes swam and stared, swam and stared, not knowing what
to think of these monkeys who played at sex instead of simply fucking.
When I had Beth quite clean she knelt down between my opened
thighs and licked me. Soon we both had pubic thatches that were as
natural and free of cream as any in town. We were wet, but we’d been
wet since we’d first arrived and seen all the handsome men at the
party. We stood up and, holding hands, walked over to Tabitha.
Although she had lost her top and modest little skirt in the yard, she
still had her panties on. Laughingly we all attacked her and pulled off
her panties and Beth and I knelt down and quickly licked away the cream
that someone had squirted into her bush. When we stood up she stared at
us with glowing eyes. We all let our hands pass round to each other and
fondle each other’s bodies. We didn’t bother with arms or bellies or
legs but went straight for the important parts. Pussies, bottoms, tits,
and the penises and balls of the men. We let our fingers explore each
other as much as we could standing up. In a few minutes I guessed we’d
be on the bed and get to know each other even more intimately but, just
now, we were enjoying the freedom of our nudity and the casualness of
our touching. Except for the bon bons stuffed in my bottom it was a
beautiful experience. Everyone took their turn playing with my tassled
nipple clamps. I felt special, despite the painfully snug pressure of
the clamps. Every movement of my body, every teasing touch of my
friends’ fingers upon my tits, made my breasts respond by shaking my
little clamps with their bells. Stuart tried to get my tits to play
jingle bells for us. It worked pretty well. We girls played with their
balls and tried to get the men to play jingle bells too, with their
genitals. I didn’t work, of course, but it did make the men ever closer
to cumming.
“Boys, you’ll be required to do a lot tonight and I don’t want
any homophobia holding you back,” Tabitha told our male guests. She
took Alex’s hand and made him touch and hold Stuart’s big penis. Beth
and I and Francis laughed. Stuart was made to stroke Alex’s member.
“Very good,” Tabitha said at last. “Now I want you two to experience
something else.” She ordered us all onto the bed. She opened the
drawer of the nightstand and took out some breath spray and settled in
amongst us. We sat cross-legged on the cool fresh sheets of her bed,
letting our privates show to each other, admiring what everyone had.
Tabitha showed us the Binaca breath spray. “It’s Spearmint, my
favorite flavor,” she told us. “Suger free, of course. We wouldn’t
want any unnecessary cavities!” She laughed. Her tits jiggled like big
mounds of vanilla pudding, firm but deliciously ample and free. She bit
her lip and shook the breath spray a moment and then sprayed it on her
own tit. Then on her other tit. She waited for the feeling of the
spray to engulf her. She swooned as the full impact of it hit. Then,
still reeling under the effects of it, she turned the spray on Stuart’s
big cock. Not knowing how it felt (indeed I myself didn’t at that
point) he let her coat his entire member with it. She was just
finishing up at his pee hole when Stuart announced, “Wow! It feels nice
and warm!” Then, a moment later, the intense stinging set in. “Yikes!
It burns!” Stuart groans. “It really burns!”
“Of course, dear, I always mix pain and pleasure. It’s more
exciting that way,” Tabitha answered him. She was still teething on her
own lower lip from the sting in her bosoms.
Alex, knowing now what he was in for, nonetheless bravely stuck
out his penis and let Tabitha squirt it with breath spray. “I thought
this was for your mouth,” Alex grumbled. Tabitha lifted up the spray
and shot a squirt of it right into Alex’s open mouth.
“It is,” she answered.
“Yuck! You just were spraying that all over Stuart’s fucking
cock!” Alex said.
“I’ll make you suck his cock if you don’t do just as I tell you
to,” Tabitha answered. “This is, after all, my bedroom.”
“You sound like you’re 12-years-old,” Alex groused. “Hey!
This stuff really stings!” he yelped. She had begun spraying his penis
again. He tried to flex it backwards but she grabbed hold of it with
her long-nailed fingers and made him keep it sticking right out.
“Give it to me, baby,” Tabitha smiled, as if playing with a
swaddling babe. She sprayed him all over his cock and even squrited
some on his balls for good measure. Then, turning to Beth, she insisted
on giving her nipples the same treatment. Then she lowered her hand, as
Beth howled at the first effects of the stinging, and shot some Binaca
right onto Beth’s clitty, parting the folds of her cunt with her fingers
to make sure she found her spot.
“Oh, no, not me!” Francis protested.
“Why, I thought you French girls knew all these tricks!”
Tabitha said to our French guests. Alex held her by her frail shoulders
and made her take the treatment just like the rest of us had. Then,
skipping my nipples which were imprisoned in the insidious clamps,
Tabitha went directly to the folds of my cunt and opened them and found
my sweet spot and made me take the spray.
We all sat moaning for a few minutes. Our most private,
precious places were on fire! At first a wonderful warmth set in and
then the stinging came, making us all want to frig ourselves, but we
were made to just ride it out, not touching ourselves. Tabitha gave us
each another treatment when the effects of the first one had faded.
“Well, you were all very brave,” she said when we’d ridden out
a second round of torture. She leaned back, tossed the Binaca back into
the nightstand drawer, and took out a tube of lotion. “This tastes like
strawberry, but its clear in color,” Tabitha told us. “It won’t hurt a
bit. I promise. It will make you all better.” She squirted some of
the soothing lotion on Stuart’s cock and he thankfully received it. He
reported that it made him feel cool without setting his member on fire.
Each of us eagerly took our turn then. She let us rub the lotion into
our skin once she’d squirted it on us.
“Mmm, nice,” I said. I fingered myself.
“I have to pee. What about you?” Tabitha asked me.
“Okay,” I answered. She got up and went to the bathroom and I
heard her rinse out the porcelain bowl she’d used to relieve Stuart and
Alex with.
“I can just use the potty,” I offered, as I watched her carry
the bowl out to the bed. Her large breasts swung temptingly with her
every step. I wanted, frankly, to meet Stuart’s member and help him
find a place to put all that sperm that was making his balls bulge.
“No, use the bowl,” Tabitha told me. “It’s more fun for the
men that way. Come, get down off the bed and squat over it.” She bent
and placed it down on the rug. Catlike I unbent my legs and crawled
across the bed, letting the men admire my tail. I hopped down and
padded to the bowl and squatted myself down over it. I waited, plucking
at my moist pubic hair, for my pee to come. Tabitha got some linen
napkins from the night stand and unfolded one of them to wipe me when I
was done.
“Well?” she asked.
“Okay, just a minute,” I said. And then my pee came squirting
out and splashed into the bowl.
“Ohhh, she looks so sweet,” Francis said, watching me. “Poop
out your bon bons too!” she suggested. I could feel them bulging inside
me and very much wanted to obey her.
“No, not until she’s had her stuffing,” Tabitha said. She told
me to squeeze my bottom cheeks together with my hands as I peed to
prevent myself from pooping them out. I obeyed, reluctantly.
Tabitha knelt down in front of me and wiped my pussy when I was
done. Then I got back in bed. Beth and Francis and, finally, Tabitha,
took their place on the pot, peeing leisurely, the men watching us, with
Tabitha running to the toilet after each pee to empty the bowl.
“It’s fun using the potty in front of the guys,” Beth admitted
quietly to me.
“Yes,” I answered.
“How do those clamps feel?” she asked. Sympathetically she
touched the tassles that were hung from my nipples and watched them
sway.
“I want them off,” I replied.
“As soon as you’ve been stuffed Tabitha will allow it,” Beth
said matter-of-factly.
“Then let’s get it over with, please,” I begged.
“Alright,” Beth said. She called out to Tabitha, who was just
coming back from the bathroom. “Tabby! Can Kelly please have her
stuffing now? Her tits are hurting!”
“Of course they’re hurting! I put clamps on them,” Tabitha
laughed. “Alright, we’ve had enough fun. Time for business.” She
climbed up onto our bed. “Stuart, I hope you’ve enjoyed having that
sperm in your balls because you’re going to pump it out now,” Tabitha
told him. She reached between his legs and possessively cupped his
sack. It was taut and full.
“I’m more than ready for that,” Stuart admitted.
“Kelly, please kneel at the head of the bed,” Tabitha told me.
“And lift up the pillow and hand me the whip, please. I want to whip
that scrumptious bottom of yours so it feels nice and glowing when
Stuart does you.”
“But--” I began.
“It’s the opposite of the Binaca,” she replied. “It stings
when its applied but feels nicer later. Warm and glowing. Fetch,
doggie, or I’ll lay on twice as many as I usually do. You did moon
Stuart, remember? You deserve a little smacking.”
“I specialize in punishing girls’ bottoms,” Stuart offered.
“Yes, I know, Stuart, but this is my bed and I want to whip
her,” Tabitha told him as I gulpingly pulled out the whip and passed it
to her. “Also, Stuart, it’s my whip,” Tabitha smiled. “You have a nice
white hiney. I may do you later, dear. Have any of your loves ever
whipped you?”
“Well, I’m not into FEMALE domination,” Stuart answered.
“I know, just male, hmmm? What’s good for the goose is good
for the gander, Stuart,” Tabitha answered, and before Stuart could stop
her she gave a test flick of her whip across his ass.
“Whoa! Don’t do that!” Stuart said. He clapped his hands over
his butt. Alex laughed. Both their cocks stuck up like big worms
wishing to be forever at attention. I knew we’d draft them soon,
Tabitha and Beth and Francis and I.
“Show me your bottom, dear,” Tabitha said to me. “Put your
face on the pillow and kneel up properly and let me see that naughty
tail of yours.” Reluctantly I assumed a position on all fours that let
them all see my white bottom, but little of my face. Tabitha eased my
legs apart and I felt myself blush as my fig came into view. There was
absolutely nothing to prevent them from looking right at my fanny and my
private! They gazed at me with casual abandon, as if at some strip show
where girls were required to undress. The men wanted to masturbate
themselves but, thanks to the Binaca and lotion, they were too much on
edge to tolerate any more play. Carefully the girls dandled their balls
and stroked the insides of their powerful thighs. “Don’t pop them,”
Tabitha warned my soul-mates.
“We won’t,” the girls answered, their voices high, like
children in the park.
“Mmmm, such a nice bottom,” Tabitha observed, turning her
attention to me. She slipped the snakeskin lash between her fingers,
toying with its length. It had cruel tassels on its tip that were
frayed and knotted.
“This is an old whip, a little worn,” Tabitha told me as I
gulpingly looked back at it. “They used to whip racehorses with it.
Now its been put out to pasture and is just used on female bottoms.
Girls and women who need to be taught to behave. Are you sorry you
showed off your bottom to everyone in the living room?”
“Yes, very much so,” I answered. I felt very nervous. My
thighs and legs seemed to be shaking right down to my squirming toes.
We’d all kicked off our sandles before climbing into Tabitha’s bed but
now, with the soles of my soft feet showing themselves to her, I
wondered if they were safe. I knew the Arabs tortured feet sometimes.
But I was most worried about my bottom. This was something I wouldn’t
even let my mother do to me!
“Ready?” Tabitha asked.
“No,” I answered truthfully.
“Try not to shout too loudly. I don’t want everyone cuming in
here,” Tabitha told me. And then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she
sent the whip flying into my fanny.
“Yeeeowch!” I gritted. I swallowed hard. I didn’t want to
seem babyish.
“Oooh, poor baby,” Tabitha said. She caressed a spot on my
bottom where a bright pink streak had been placed. The handiwork of her
whip. “Now, here’s another. Take your medicine,” she said. And she
let her whip fly again, striking me hard.
“YeeeeOWCH!” I yelped. I blinked back tears. She gave me two
more in quick succession. I found myself screaming loudly and tears
running down my face, threatening to spoil my makeup. I had waterproof
makeup but I knew that sobbing and weeping and smearing my face into my
pillow would certainly mess it up. I tried flexing my bottom cheeks to
assauge the sting. I tried keeping my chin up, so my face wouldn’t
smear lipstick all over it. But my hands clutched the pillow hard and I
knew I’d be biting into it in a minute.
WHACK! WHACK! SLACK! WHACK! Tabitha really gave it to me
now. She let several strokes splatter the knots at the end of the whip
over my tushy. I howled and ground my face in my pillow and forgot all
about preserving my makeup. All the while I was conscious of my fig on
display and my titties jangling with their clamps.
“Oh, how nice,” I heard someone say at the door and knew, as I
bounced on my knees under each new searing lash of the whip, that others
had come to watch. My legs were apart, my cunny was on display, and my
bottom was bare. What would my mother think? Would I run home to her
tonight, rubbing my heinie? How would I sit tomorrow at school. The
next strokes of the whip blasted all those thoughts out of my head as
Tabitha made me feel the whip very deeply, impressing it into my tender
cheeks like nothing I’d ever felt before.
“Enough! Enough!” I cried. I flattened myself on my belly and
my hands flew back to my tush. Madly I rubbed myself, feeling even
worse as I touched my flayed bottom. But I had to protect it at all
costs! Tabitha tried to remove my hands but I held them as tight as I
could to my flaming cheeks.
“Shall we tie her?” Francis asked. She scrambled to the head
of the bed and began uncoiling one of the white ropes.
“Poor girl, she has not yet learned the joy of it,” Tabitha
sighed. “Ream her, Stuart. I’ve given her all she can take.”
Stuart came to me then and hefted me right up, his hands round
my waist, tight as iron clamps. He lifted my hips and positioned me
back on my knees as I begged him through my tears to let me go.
Francis, feeling inspired, lifted my chin and kissed my mouth. I did
not want her kisses but she insisted, driving her tongue into me and
whispering consoling words. This, of course, the girl who just moments
before had wanted to see me tied and whipped some more.
Stuart put his thing to my cunt. I was sinfully wet and, still
gleaming with the lotion Tabitha had applied to relieve his cock from
the Binaca, Stuart pushed himself into me as easily as one might. At 14
I was no easy fuck. But, thanks to the whipping and our playing, I was
not emotionally resistant. He had only to fight the tightness of my
womb itself. I wanted him, if only to get the bon bons out of my butt
and the clamps off my nipples. I did all I could, despite my crying and
my pain, to open myself and receive him. The bon bons made me even
tighter than I should have been, but Tabitha had planned it that way,
just to be nasty to me. Every inch of his manhood that he got up me
seemed about to split me in two. I cried, I howled, until finally
Stuart, getting in front of me to complete my stuffing, put his cock
into my mouth.
As I sucked Stuart like a baby feeds on a bottle, Tabitha
insinuated herself beneath Stuart and put her mouth to my cunny. I felt
a sense of shock as her wet, moving mouth, suddenly joined with my clit,
even as Stuart drove himself into the folds of my cunt. All around my
tiny spot Tabitha slurped and fed, nibbling into me as if I were her
dinner and she were a starving child. I moaned, I bucked, I lost all
sense of time and space. I even forgot all about the people who stood
in the doorway admiring my performance. Well, it was the same folks I’d
shown my bottom to earlier, so I had no cause of complaint, I guess.
But I did feel a little embarassed when it was all over.
Crying from my whipping and begging Stuart to uncork himself
from me even as I bounced my bottom backward to take more of him, I
reached my climax and then came some more. I lost track of my orgasms.
There was no use counting them, with Tabitha endlessly licking me.
Stuart, who’d seemed on the verge of cuming as we played with the
Binaca, found new strength and held himself back and reamed me again and
again. I felt as if I’d been impaled on some giant iron bar that some
inquisitorial Pope was using to spill confessions from me. I confessed,
but the torture continued anyway. Somewhere on the far side of heaven I
found myself panting with a limp male penis being withdrawn from me.
Bleary eyed, my makeup long since wasted and ruined, I looked back to
find Stuart had long since removed himself and been replaced by Alex,
while Francis fed in my mouth, cleaning it of Alex’s spent sperm.
“Hi,” I said when at last I’d been left to myself and
recovered.
“Hi,” Tabitha said. She was lying with her head on my belly
and she kissed my belly button. Her bottom, bulbing way down at the
tail of her back, seemed smeared with sperm and I guessed someone had
taken her in her hole.
“Please don’t whip me again,” I said.
“Mmmmm, with a bottom like that you’re doomed to be whipped
until you’re 40,” she said truthfully to me.
“Then I’ll never have sex again,” I declared. Even as I spoke
I wished she’d move her head so I could frig myself.
“You’re so young and sweet,” she smiled. She moved her face
down my belly and kissed my bush and I did not stop her.
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