121 kb Worked 100% I Will Go Get The Big One You Remarked On Now--> Nikki

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Andrew Plays With The Girls 121kb g+b, Fg, spank, cbt, ds, enema, incest

I grew up in a Bronx apartment building with my working mom, so I was a
latchkey kid. From 2:45 to 6 my girlfriends and I had the place to
ourselves. We'd spend hours talking about cute boys in our 6th grade
class, how stupid boys were in general, and why our moms wouldn't let us
wear
make-up, or date.

About half way through the school year a fifth grade boy moved in
upstairs. We'd giggle like girls do when we saw him in the hall or
elevator, and
would talk about how sweet it was that it made him blush.

One afternoon as luck would have it there he was with us on the
elevator. Carol, my best friend suddenly asked him if he'd like to come
over for
cookies and cokes. Three shades of red later, about the time we were
reaching the 5th floor, he muttered something about how he wasn't
allowed, about how his mom would kill him.

"Stupid" said Carol, slapping him lightly on the top of his head,
"we're not gonna tell."

"W..w..well, maybe l..l..later" and it was then we realized why he
didn't have any friends yet. His stutter.

I thought "you poor kid".

Later, upstairs in my room Carol said it made her want to hit him. We
talked about that for awhile, Carol getting more and more explicit about how
and where she wanted to hit the "little cripple" and Lane, our other friend
and I trying to calm her down some. The more Carol talked, the more SHE
turned red, saying "I'd punch him in the gut, make him cry, I'd smack his
face, maybe give him a black eye"... and on and on.

Eventually Lane and I were able to turn the conversation to the latest
DiCaprio film, but all afternoon, until Carol went to her own place, I
could see the fire in her eyes.

Days passed with no sight of Andrew (as we soon learned his name was)
and the whole thing pretty much slipped from my mind. Carol and Lane and I
returned to our normal routine of reading the latest teen magazines and
gossiping. Andrew's name came up once in awhile, but only in
relationship to how lonely he looked all the time, and his eating alone
in the
cafeteria, and his spending a lot of time in the library.

Almost 2 weeks later, as Lane and Carol were getting comfortable in my
bedroom, and I had just finished checking phone messages, one of which
was from my mom...she'd be late, again, eat something in the freezer for
dinner, and to behave ourselves, blah, blah...there was a timid knock on the
door. Lane jumped up to answer it, and there was Andrew, red faced and
looking ashamed, as usual, in his baggy shirt and tight, too small shorts
standing there trying to say something.

"My..m..m..m..m..mom said I c..c..c..could come over if it's
oh..oh..okay."

Carol, hearing this while looking through my 45's walks imperiously
into the front room, grabs the poor kid by the front of the shirt and
yanking
him inside, kicks the door closed behind him.

"Well, well, little boy. So you want to come and play with the girls,
huh?"

Released from her grasp on his shirt, and clearly frightened, he
mutters under his breath "y..yes."

Even at 12, I knew enough to try to get things under control. I quickly
asked Andrew if he'd like some cookies or a coke. Lane, also sensing
something, started for the fridge, saying "be right back, Andrew, why
don't you sit down."

"Well...there are so many fun games we can play, Andrew. Do you like
cowboys and Indians? Have you ever played nazi prisoner? how about
doctor?" I
could have killed Carol, but she was so obviously enjoying herself, I
decided
to play along, at least for the time being.

Lane came back in with a glass of coke and a cookie in time to catch
the end of this.

"I don't think we are supposed to play doctor, Care, we could get in
BIG trouble."

"So who's gonna tell?" Carol says, that fire is right back in her eyes.

"I..I..I've p..p..played uh..d..d..doctor before" from Andrew. Jeez I
think to myself, boys are soooo stupid.

"Well goodie! Then let's just get started. Andrew, you be the patient,
of course, I'll be the doctor, and Lane and Liz can be nurses."

So far, so good. A little curiosity about boys like most 12 year old
girls have is pretty normal, Andrew seemed willing, Lane wasn't saying
anything. Clearly Carol was going to get Andrew to show us his privates.
Sort of
a thrilling idea.

"Liz, help our patient off with his shirt, Laney, go and get the
thermometer and stethoscope." The coffee table quickly became the
examination
table. Andrew stood up from the couch and sat down where I pointed. Lane
started to ask something but Carol shushed her and said "just go do it."

As I started to unbutton his shirt, if it's possible, Andrew turned
even a deeper shade of red. Each button opened exposed more of his skinny
chest, and more of the blush which now reached just below his tiny
nipples. I
thought for awhile that he couldn't look me in the eye as I stripped
him of his shirt, but then realized that he was entranced looking into those
fiery eyes of Carol.

I finished with the buttons on his shirt front, and started to pull it
off behind him, then realized he had cufflinks which prevented me from
completing my task.

"Just leave those" Carol said with a wicked grin, "that way his arms
can't move, and he won't be able to interfere with my examination."

I gently pushed Andrew back, onto his constricted arms, and saw right
away that the "examination table" was too short. I started to say that maybe
we could find something better, but then I was shushed...Carol's gleaming
eyes showing me I was to hold my tongue. The length of the coffee table
meant that there was no support for Andrew's head, his feet hanging over the
other end. Laying on his arms meant that he was in a reverse "spanking
position." His hips higher than the rest of his body. His feet on the
floor, his
head tilted back.

For the first time I was able to see a boy's crotch not only unobstructed,
but pushed forward as if I was invited to take a look. Using some
imagination
I was able to discern in his shorts what might be a penis,
and there, just below, his testicles. I wondered just how far Carol would
take this.

Just then Lane comes back, a host of kitchen tools clasped to her
chest. She dumped them unceremoniously onto the couch next to our
"patient." She
looked a little peeved at first but then, seeing the humiliating position
Andrew had assumed, let out a little gasp.

Thus encouraged, Carol began.

"So, our patient is having tummy troubles, is he?"

A slight nod from Andrew, eyes tightly closed.

"So, first we test reflexes, don't we, nurse?"

As she says this she picks up a cast iron ladle. At a nod from Lane,
Carol raises the ladle high and brings it down with a thud sound onto
Andrew's raised abdomen.

His reaction was immediate, but surprisingly muted. His head came up to
about level, his feet left the floor a few inches, and a hiss escaped
his mouth.

"Not good" says Carol. "Let me try it again."

Again the cast iron ladle is raised, again, and with even more force it
hits Andrew's abdomen in about the same place. His reaction is again
immediate, but rather subdued. A hiss, a slight lifting of his feet, an "ow"
follows, and this seems to enrage Carol.

"Nurse Liz, find something to keep our patient quiet."

Fully into the game now, and not helping but noticing that the crotch
area of Andrew's shorts is changing in an interesting and amazing way, I run
to my room and dig through my hamper to find a pair of panties.

"Nurse Laney, I won't have our patient moving around so much, please
restrain him."

Returning with a pair of my panties I see in Lane's eyes the same fire
as in Carol's. I wondered if my eyes were shining, too.

Lane takes the dirty panties from my hand, pushes them into Andrew's
mouth, and then slowly, facing Carol and I and the rest of Andrew's torso,
lowers herself onto his face.

"I think it's time for the next test" says Carol. "This one might hurt,
so Nurse Laney, be sure you keep him quiet.Nurse Liz, pull his shorts
down, and hold his legs."

I slowly pulled his Speedo type shorts down past his hips, down past
his crotch, and pulled back in surprise as his erection nearly hit me in
the eye. I needn't have worried. It was no more than an inch or 2 in
length, and the weirdest thing of all, after everything I'd learned in
sex ed, he
didn't seem to have any testicles.

"Hee hee...look at that!" Carol laughed, joined by Lane and I.

"mph" from Andrew.

"Let him talk, Nurse Laney."

Lane raises up from Andrew's face, hesitating just a bit, I was to find
out later that she was embarrassed about the wet spot in her panties.
(Jeez, Lane, all you had to say was that he spit on you!)(but my cunny
was on
his NOSE, not his mouth!)

After Lane removed my panties, his mouth now free to speak, such as he
could, he began..."m..m..my mom s..s..says muh..muh..my testicles are
.un..un..undescended."

"Enough from you, patient. Nurse Laney, back where you were, please."

Lane lowers herself back over Andrew's face with a sigh. Carol picks
up, looks closely at and chooses a wooden spoon as her next instrument.

"Nurse Liz, we need to take the patient's temperature, now. Please
raise his legs."

Totally into the game now, seeing Andrew not just cooperating, but
enjoying it, I pulled his shorts off from around his ankles and grabbing
those
ankles, lifted them up. Lane took over, pulling them to each side of
her own narrow chest. Now Andrew's anus was fully exposed to all of our
gazes.
Never having seen my own, or anyone else's for that matter, I was intrigued.
As Carol placed the wooden spoon near to it, we saw it contract, then
expand, and as the tip started to enter it, contract again.

"STOP THAT" Carol yelled with a hard slap to Andrew's inner thigh with
her hand and Andrew forced his anus to relax. Clearly he was no stranger to
anal intrusion.

The handle of the spoon went deeper and deeper, Carol's eyes seem to
glow as she pushed, saying "Andrew, now you know what's good for
you...behave
and it won't hurt...so much."

Tears starting at the corner of his eyes, but still silent, Andrew took
as much of the spoon as Carol pushed in.

Another knock on the door.

Lane and I, intent on the process unfolding before us, ignored it. The
door burst open.

"Just what the FUCK is going on here!?"

The 4 of us looked up. "It's my m..m..mom, oh d..d..dang."

Lane jumped up off Andrew's face...I stepped back and clasped my hands
behind my back. Carol, leaving the spoon handle nearly fully inserted
into Andrew's butt stood up.

I envisioned grounding for life. I envisioned reform school, I
envisioned spankings every night for a month.

Andrew, having not moved an inch since this began, started to lower his
legs, but when the spoon reached the table, realized he was trapped in
the position we had placed him. His mom, Ms. Lauren strode over, grabbed
the spoon and roughly yanked it out, and then grabbing her son by the hair
pulled him to his feet. She finished ripping the shirt off his body, so
freeing his hands. Andrew's first instinct was to cover his erection.

"Don't EVEN think about it" she hissed.

I immediately stopped in the middle of backing away, Lane stopped her
unconscious rubbing of her crotch, Carol hadn't moved, and wasn't about
to. Andrew's hand, which was to cover his penis stopped midway, and then
went to his head to try to alleviate the pain of his hair being pulled.

Carol, Lane and I soon realized that it wasn't us who were in trouble,
it was Andrew. My relief was short lived, though, when I watched as Ms.
Lauren's knee came up abruptly into the place where Andrew's balls
should have been.

"In case you were curious, this" again her knee comes up, Andrew
seeming to have withstood the first blow, doubles over this time
obviously in
severe pain, "is why his testicles haven't descended."

"Wow" Carol breathes..."can I try that?"

"Of course, hon. Maybe your friends would like to help?"

OK, if Andrew's erection had subsided, if Ms. Lauren hadn't had such an
hypnotic effect, if, if, if...Lane and I each grabbed a leg. Lane and I
each pulled those legs wide. Lane and I each watched, me, Andrew's face,
Lane, Andrew's crotch as Carol brought her foot up in a full force kick
between Andrew's legs.

"Gawd, that's good, " Carol says as her eyes seem to glaze over. She
watches studiously as Andrew's eyes scrunch up in anticipation of more
coming
pain...she readies herself for another.

"Go ahead, hon, he deserves it" Ms. Lauren says, seeing Carol's
intentions.

Carol takes a look at Andrew's tears, and pitilessly swings her foot up
again. To my surprise, and my friend's, white stuff comes spurting out
of Andrew's penis. Ms. Lauren just drops her hold on her son with a look
of disgust. Following her lead, so do Lane and I. Andrew reaches to hold
his penis.

"Enough for now, girls," Ms. Lauren says softly. "There's lots more I
can teach you if you are interested."

Carol, Lane and I can only nod dumbly as Ms. Lauren leads her naked son,
bent over and retching, out the door.

***********

Andrew pretty much disappeared for a few weeks. Lane, Carol and I got
slowly back into the usual routine, but for days and days it was clear what
was on all our minds: no less than a helpless, naked BOY, a penis, an
erection, his mom, her cruelty, our cruelty. This kind of stuff wasn't
taught
in sex ed. What had we done, why did we do it? More to the point, why
did it feel
so...right? Answers to those questions don't come quickly to 12 year
old girls deathly afraid of bringing the subject up with their mothers.

Carol had the bright idea of going to talk with Ms. Lauren. "She gave
him permission to come down and play; she wasn't mad at us. She sort of
seemed, uh, happy about what we did."

Lane agreed; I still wasn't so sure.

"Look," said Lane, "maybe we could just go ask if he can play cards
with us or something."

"What, strip poker?" Carol was getting that gleam in her eye again.

"Well not that, silly, but 'hearts' or 'go fish', or 'war'," I said.

"I know what you want to play, Carol," said Lane. "You want to play
Nazi prisoner, don't you?"

"You've never played Nazi prisoner, what do you know about it?"

"Well you haven't either, have you, stupid?"

I suddenly felt like I had my own "war" on my hands. Carol and Lane
looked
like they were about to square off for a fight.

"Look," I said. "I'll settle this. We'll just call upstairs and see if
Ms.
Lauren will let him come over again, OK?"

So simple a solution. Lane grabbed the phone and called 411 to get the
new
listing for "Lauren" at our address, and dialed.

"Umm, Ms. Lauren? This is Liz's friend Lane? Yeah, I remember. We were
wondering if Andrew's okay. Oh, yeah? Well, nobody has seen him for a
while and we...Oh, okay, that's cool. No, of course we won't. Oh yeah, we'd
like that; in fact that's why I was calling. We can?"

There it was, that unmistakable fire in Lane's eyes. Carol, hearing
this end of the conversation had it too. I'm thinking maybe I had it. I
had no
illusions about how we would be spending the rest of our afternoon.

30 minutes later...That timid knock; who else could it be?

"Come in," the 3 of us chimed; we giggled at the silliness of it.

There's a pause; seconds passed. Lane, Carol and I were nearly
breathless with anticipation. The door opened, and there was Ms. Lauren,
dragging Andrew behind her by the scruff of his neck. Andrew had the now
familiar flushed face. He was dressed very much as he was that "other" day:
shirt too big, shorts too small. It's pretty clear why we hadn't seen him in
school. Both of his eyes were black, his wrist had an ace bandage, and there
were ugly bluish-yellow welts on the front of his legs.

Ms. Lauren pushed Andrew in front of her roughly. He stumbled a bit but
caught himself in time to prevent falling.

"Oh my God," breathed Lane. "What happened, Andrew? You look awful!"

I was concerned, but at the same time I was suddenly struck by the
incredible beauty of Ms. Lauren. I found myself staring at her very
short blonde hair, aquiline nose, full lips, and to-die-for figure. She
clearly wore no bra beneath her white silk blouse. High heeled shoes
sculpted
her legs below her medium length skirt. Oddly, it suddenly occurred to me
that I could now understand love at first sight -- well, maybe if I were
lesbian, I quickly corrected myself.

Lane had rushed over and was stroking Andrew's hair in sympathy. She
led him gently to the couch where Carol was sitting back, an odd smirk
on her
face. I closed my mouth.

"Unfortunately, Andrew got in the middle of an argument I was having
with my, um, former long time companion," explained Ms. Lauren. "Listen,
girls, I have to go out for a few hours. Would you mind very much
keeping an eye
on Andrew? I'd be happy to pay you of course, and I can promise he'll
behave. Won't you, Andrew?"

This last was delivered in a very definitely threatening tone. Andrew
reacted as if slapped.

"Y...y...yes ma'am."

"You mean take care of him like we 'took care of him' last time?"
Carol's first words since my guests' arrival.

Ms. Lauren smiled at Carol, and suddenly Carol didn't look quite so
confident.

"Why yes, dear. I'm sure the four of you will find some fun games to
play together."

With that, and before waiting for our reply, she turned on her heel and
was out the door.

"What's a longtime companion?" asked Lane.

"It means she's a dyke, stupid. A lesbo."

"Please stop calling Lane 'stupid', Carol," I pleaded, "You know as
well as I do that she gets the best grades of all of us."

Carol turned on Andrew. "So is your mom a dyke? Tell us or we'll make
you tell us."

Suddenly, in that instant, the atmosphere in the apartment became
electric.

"I d...d...don't know."

"Okay, then," Carol looked like she was sooo hoping for that answer,
"Laney hold him, I'm going to 'pants' him."

Without hesitation, Lane moved to where she could grab hold of Andrew's
arms, and pulled them behind his back. He winced as Lane manhandled his
bandaged wrapped arm. Carol grabbed hold of the speedos and in a quick
jerk, had them down around his knees. We all gasped in unison when we saw
that the weals on the front of his thighs continued all the way up to his
bellybutton.

"Uh, Carol? Lane? Do you think that maybe he has had enough already?"

"Not 'til I get my answer," Carol recovers quickly, "Laney, roll him
over, we'll give him a spanking."

In seconds, Lane had Andrew over her lap in the classic spanking
position. Carol seated herself on the coffee table across from them,
raised her
arm and brought her hand down onto Andrew's bare bottom. I suppose we all
expected a reaction, but there was not a sound from Andrew; he didn't
even clench his bottom like any of us would have in similar circumstances.
Again Carol brought her hand down, this time on Andrew's other cheek. Again
nothing, not a grunt, not a whimper, just the sound of the spank, and
the outline of Carol's hand in red on Andrew's bottom.

"His thing is getting hard again," Lane announced.

Curious, I reached under Andrew, between Lane's thighs and found that
yes, his penis had indeed grown stiff. This time Andrew did flinch just a
bit, either because he wasn't expecting such a bold groping of his penis, or
because it was still tender from his mom's whipping.

"You hold onto it, Liz," Carol said, also seeing Andrew's reaction.
With Andrew's small but stiff penis in my grip, Carol resumed her spanking.

"Is (spank) your mom (spank) a dyke? (SPANK)". Carol's face was turning
red with the exertion, or whatever, and Andrew was squirming, I wasn't
quite sure if I should let his penis move up and down in my hand, or if I'm
supposed to hold it tighter. I decided on the latter. Meanwhile, Andrew
was silent.

Lane says, "Let me try; you aren't doing it hard enough, Carol."

"Fine," said Carol, standing. "Is it hot in here or is it just me?"
Lane and I giggled at the old joke.

But it wasn't quite that funny when Carol stripped off her sweater and
shucked her jeans, leaving her in a pretty white singlet and her
panties. "I'm going to the kitchen, anybody need anything?"

Lane, with Andrew still across her knee, had been absently caressing
his bottom. I still had my tight hold onto his penis. Andrew chose that
moment to look up at Carol.

Carol stomped over and angrily slapped Andrew across his face. "Don't
you DARE look at me like that!" Another slap. I felt his penis twitch
twice, once with each slap.

So many new feelings! A boy under my complete control, and even having
his mom's explicit permission...Carol acting like it's the most natural
thing in the world...the tingling of seeing Carol's partial strip tease
and now
the vision of her, half nude... that sorta I-don't-wanna-think-about-it
image of the sway of Ms. Lauren's unencumbered breasts under her silk
blouse,
and those pink nipples...and her demanding, imperious manner.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll take a coke."

Lane snorted, Carol laughed, and then an eruption of sound in the
apartment as three twelve-year-old girls laughed uproariously.

Minutes later...

Mostly recovered, tears streaming down our faces, Carol walked off to
the kitchen, with me surreptiously watching her panty clad butt. Lane
starts spanking Andrew in earnest.

Lane, thinking she has something to prove, now spanked with all her
strength. Andrew was all but motionless for the first 20 or spanks. By
thirty, his stiff penis was twitching and there was the occasional
grunt from him. By 60 the strain was showing on Lane, and Andrew's penis
was even stiffer, if that's possible. Andrew has had his eyes tightly
shut since Lane began; now I saw tears at the corner of his eyes.

Carol was now sitting next to me, making occasional comments such as
"harder, Laney," and "look how red his butt is getting." She was so
focused on the scene in front of her I'm not sure if she realized that
her hand was on my knee. Lane changed strategy and began to spank
Andrew's thighs. At an unusually loud groan, Carol's hand moved higher
on my leg, absently caressing the inside of my thigh as we watched, eyes
bright. It was starting to drive me crazy. Slightly embarrassed, I let
go of Andrew's twitching penis and, unable to think of an excuse to get
Carol to stop her tickling, decided on the obvious. I lifted up my own
sweater and took it off; then, standing, shucked off my own jeans. Now I
was in just my training bra and panties. Carol glanced up, but gave no
indication that my own partial nudity was of any consequence.

Laney, exhausted, stopped her spanking. "This isn't working, Carol. Any
bright ideas?"

I remembered then that there was that pretense of "making him talk."

Andrew's bottom and thighs were now dark, dark red. There were
occasional tears from his tightly closed eyes, but little sound from him.

"Liz? Did you pee in your pants?" Lane's question was innocent, more
amused than accusing. I looked down, and was mortified to see a huge wet
spot
on the gusset of my panties.

"No," said Carol, standing and spreading her knees. "She's got the same
thing I do, I'm hotter than a pistol." She reached down to spread open,
and showed us. "Bet you're the same way," teased Carol with a grin.

"Yeah, OK, I am."

"Show us."

Lane stands up, unceremoniously dumping Andrew onto the floor. She
lifted her skirt and showed us the wet spot on her own panties.

All of us were virgins, of course, so none of us seemed to know exactly
what to do about this "itch." Having intercourse never crossed my mind,
probably true of my friends as well. I mean it's not like we didn't know
what it was, but the only penis in sight was Andrew's. Laughable to even
consider.

On the floor, Andrew had assumed a sitting position, chin on his knees,
arms wrapped around his legs. We saw enough of his "package" under him
to know he was still very stiff. The speedos were gone. While wondering
how he could sit on his obviously sore butt on the rug, I also wondered
what happened to his shorts. Unbidden, an image of being spanked by Ms.
Lauren for losing Andrew's shorts flashed through my head.

"Where the heck did THAT come from?" I thought to myself.

Carol was ready to get on with our torture of Andrew. "Laney, get that
belt from Liz's closet we were talking about yesterday." Oh my, this was
going to get wicked. The belt in question was a legacy from my
Grandfather. It was one of those huge, thick rodeo cowboy belts with
some kind of rodeo prize buckle.

To Andrew, "Well? Is your mom a dyke or what? And stand UP when I talk
to you!"

Andrew got quickly to his feet. His shirt dropped down to cover his
privates. He stood quietly, looking at the floor, arms at his side.

"I d...d...don't know what a d...d...d...dyke is."

Carol took a wide swipe at Andrew's head. Oddly he didn't duck, and
took the full force of the slap across his face. He bent with the force
of it,
then straightened up again.

"A LESBO, you stupid, crippled IDIOT!"

"I...I...I'm s...s...s...sorry."

Lane came back with the belt. Carol turned on her, looking almost as
though she was about to slap her, too, but didn't. She just grabbed the
belt from her and barked at me. "Get his shirt off!"

Carol's mood was contagious. I moved behind Andrew and with a vicious
yank on the collar, buttons popping, I pulled it down his slender arms,
baring his skinny chest.

Again, Andrew's cufflinks prevented his shirt being pulled off
completely. I tug and tug, but only succeeded in pulling him nearly off
his feet backwards. Lane comes over and twists her hand in the shirt
remnants and pulls upward, pulling Andrew's arms up high behind his
back, making him bend forward because of the pressure. Carol went ballistic.

Carol puts her hands on Andrew's shoulders. "I said stand UP! when I
talk to you" and her knee came up into Andrew's privates. Lane and I
wince, Jeez that has to have hurt!

"Is" (another knee to his groin) "your" (and another) "mom" (one more,
Andrew is pale, but holding on) "a DYKE?."

"Yes, I am."

Carol froze at mid upward kick. Lane and I gasped, Lane letting loose
of Andrew's shirt, me taking a step back and the three of us slowly
turning to find Ms. Lauren standing in the doorway, a bemused look on
her face.

"I let myself in, I hope you don't mind. Liz, can we talk?"

"Uh, yes,ma'am, of course."

I was suddenly aware of my partial nudity. It's one thing to be in my
bra and panties in front of "the girls" (funny how I was thinking of
Andrew as one of the girls) but a whole 'nother thing to be so exposed
in front of an all-but stranger. "There's a bedroom this way?" she asked
pointing and turning toward my bedroom.

"Yes ma'am," very meekly, I followed her.

"First, Liz" she starts as we enter my bedroom, "please call me 'Miss
Grace'." She closes the door behind us. "Secondly, Liz, dear, could you
please tell me why you are undressed?"

That look of hers, the one I can only call "bemused" hasn't left her
face, or her demeanor. Like a glamour model she stood there, one hand on
her hip, those incredible breasts jutting out, and the half smile at my
obvious embarrassment.

"Um, ma'am..." the look becomes mildly reproachful, "um, Miss Grace, I
mean...it got pretty hot in there."

Her laugh was as startling as it was beautiful. That, and her casual
but deliberate glancing at my undies suddenly makes my nipples grow hard.

"I just bet it did. So I take it Andrew was a naughty boy?"

"Uh, yes...Miss Grace, but not really. We were sort of playing a game
with him."

She took a cigarette out of her purse and lit it. "Well, I'm curious,
Liz, what exactly was the game you were playing?"

I wanted to say "my mom will kill you if she catches you smoking" but
realized the silliness of that. What me and my friends were doing to
Andrew could get us in a whole lot more trouble than my mom smelling
cigarette smoke in my room. "Carol calls it 'Nazi Prisoner'," I
improvise. "We were, uh, interrogating him."

She inhaled smoke, blew it into my face..."About whether I am lesbian."

A statement, not a question. She is standing directly in front of me,
her hands reach out, a forefinger of each hand slides under my bra
straps. The excitement is real, like the fear that her cigarette, still
between her fingers, might burn me. "I am, how did your friend phrase
it...a 'dyke'."

Liz, I say to myself, this is like nothing you ever felt before.
Grace's fingers slid up and down under the straps, I couldn't take my
eyes from hers. If she knows what to do, I continued to myself, she can
have her way with me. (huh? Way with me? What the heck do I mean?) The
cigarette end is closer, closer, I felt the heat of it on my shoulder.

"And was Liz a naughty girl?"

A million things flashed through my mind...her touch, my wet panties,
Andrew's welts, Carol's flashing eyes, Carol in her singlet and
panties, my nipples so hard they ache, Grace's breasts, the casual 'I
am' from her, "Yes, Ma'am."

I think I know what to expect.

She pushes my bra straps off my shoulders, I feel them fall to my
elbows. Lit cigarette still between her fingers, a slight tug over each
of my tiny breasts and my nipples are exposed. Still looking into
directly into my eyes, my left nipple explodes in burning pain.

"And maybe Liz needs a spanking?"

The hand with the cigarette goes to the crotch of my panties...

"Yes, yes, yes ma'am"

"I thought so." Grace walks over to my desk and takes the chair,
placing it in the middle of my room. Feeling "unrestrained" by her
stare, my hands go to cover my breasts. I want to try to rub some of the
pain from my left nipple. I look at it, expecting to see some horrible
disfiguration, but there was just a small red spot where it was touched
with the cigarette end.

Grace took a seat and patted her knee. "Over here, pretty Liz. Quickly,
now."

I wanted to be a "good girl" for this woman. I wanted so badly to make
her proud of me. Yes, I was naughty, I was bad. I was "horrible." I
would take my punishment and show her how brave I am. I crossed the room
to her, not replacing my bra, and stood in front of her between her
knees. I knew what she wanted. I hooked my thumbs in my panties and
pushed them down below my bottom. I needed a bare bottom spanking, I
needed it from this woman. I needed it more than anything just then.

A gentle tug on my wrist and I was across her left knee. A soft push on
my panties and they were at my ankles. A gentle nudge, and I was
spreading my legs wide, wider. One last small adjustment, and Grace's
knee was pressed against my pussy, spread, opened, I could feel cool
breeze on my most
never touched places.

"And what happens to naughty girls, pretty Liz?" cooing almost, her
fingers tracing the crack of my butt, and lower, and lower, and...oh, god,
lower still.

"They...get...spanked?" I was breathless with anticipation. As much as
I feared the pain, I was no stranger to spankings after all, I wanted
Grace to love me, to punish and then forgive me.

"Yes, pretty Liz." And with that came the first spank. Whatever my
preconceptions were, this was NOT what I expected. Her hand landed
inside my thigh, way high up, the tips of her fingers catching my pussy
lips. I
was so wet at that point that my juices splashed all over her leg. I was
ashamed, and in pain, and mostly wondered what I had gotten myself into. The
second, without warning, landing in the same spot. Then another, and
another.
With each spank I just naturally pressed my pussy down onto her knee. By the
tenth I found myself lifting my bottom up to meet her hand, so as to
have more pressure as I humped her leg, By fifteen I was groaning not in
pain, though there was lots of that, but in pleasure as I felt myself grow
close to something I had only heard rumors about. Grace began to spank
higher, still the same left bottom cheek, but her fingers now hitting my
other
most never touched place. Finally she stopped, her hand still on my bottom,
the tips of her fingers well inside the crease of my bottom.

"That's better, now, isn't it pretty Liz?"

I couldn't get enough of those fingers. I squirmed and pushed against
them as they stroked, probed, caressed. I'd have taken a hundred more of
those awful spanks to get those fingers where I thought they needed to be.

"Yes...ma'am...please..."

"Please, what, pretty Liz?"

"Please...more..."

"More spanking? I would have thought you'd had enough. Fine, then"

And down came her hand, again and again, no pretense now of it being a
bare bottom spanking. Now it was my most never touched places. My pussy,
then my bottom hole, then my pussy...the pain was unbearable, the
pleasure was
intense. Again she stopped, again the fingers caressed, probed...Again
I wanted those fingers, I would DIE to get those fingers.

"You'll behave yourself now, pretty Liz?"

Through my tears, through my agony I nearly screamed..."YES, YES, YES."

And expertly, her thumb in my bottom hole, her 2 fingers inside, oh so
deep inside my pussy, she stroked, she pushed, she massaged, until the most
incredible thing happened.

I saw stars, I thought I was dying, I didn't want it ever to stop.

Finally it ended. Grace helped me off her lap. I got up and she rose
and gave me a brief soft kiss on my forehead and each cheek, holding my
face in her hands. "Dry your eyes, pretty Liz, and let's go check on the
kids."



**********

"Miss" Grace stopped at my closet. She rummaged around and found a
leather mini-skirt I bought at the mall last year on a whim, but never
had the
nerve to wear. Tossing it onto my bed, and giving me another bemused look,
she went back to the closet and pulled out one of my "Sunday best" white
blouses.

"You can leave your panties here, pretty Liz, and I don't think I want
you wearing a bra."

This was to become my "uniform" for many future visits to Grace's
apartment, though of course I didn't know that then, and for the moment,
I was
putty in her hands. As I bent over to pull the skirt up my legs I paused
as I
caught the reflection of my bottom in the mirror. My left cheek was a
mass of
purple blotches and handprints. My right cheek didn't have a single
blemish, but in between, all the way down to where my pussy was poking
out was
one solid purple bruise. There was still a not unpleasant throbbing there,
and as the skirt came up, the slight friction "down there" was delicious.

I shucked off the bra and put on the blouse. Another glance in the
mirror and I saw me; the tiny leather skirt making me look so...adult. The
blouse making me look like the little girl that I felt like just then, being
supervised to dress as a child would be. Still, I felt forgiven, I felt
"pretty" and most of all, I felt like I would do absolutely ANYTHING
for more of what I had so recently experienced at "Miss Grace's" hands.

"Perfect," she purred. Again she held my face in her hands and kissed
me, but this time full on my lips. "Come with me."

The tableau that we found amused Miss Grace. Apparently Lane, Carol and
Andrew were too petrified to move even an inch. It occurred to me that
they had listened during my spanking. Carol stood unmoving, the huge rodeo
belt dangling from her hand, Lane stood stock still, part of Andrew's pulled
down shirt still wrapped in her fist. Neither had Andrew moved. Our side
view of him as we entered the living room showed clearly that not even his
penis had moved, it was still pointing straight out and up.

"My friend pretty Liz told me why SHE was undressed," addressing Carol,
"perhaps you can tell me YOUR excuse?" I felt a flush of pride at being
referred to as "friend". I lifted my head somewhat and tried to assume
the same imperious manner that my "friend" Miss Grace had.

"Um, Ms. Lauren...we were...um..."

"No lies, please, little girl." Again a small thrill of pride as Miss
Grace made the clear distinction between her "friend", me, and Carol, the
"little girl".

"Well," began Carol, "Andrew is naked, and I felt sort
of...overdressed?"

"But YOU are NOT naked, are you?"

"No, Ms. Lauren" quietly, resigned, I think she felt trapped in her
lie.

"Liz?" Miss Grace turned to me.

"Yes, Miss Grace?" And again a small thrill, knowing I was the only one
in the room allowed to call her by her first name, such as I could.

"I wonder if you might correct your little friend's dilemma."

"Yes, of course, Miss Grace."

I went over to Carol who dropped the belt at her side, and standing
directly in front of her, whispered "lift your arms, Carol" which she did.
Taking hold of the bottom of her singlet, I lifted it up, and off, and
tossed
it aside. Then kneeling on one knee in front of her, I reached for the
waistband of her panties, and slowly, teasingly, like I knew Miss Grace
would like, tugged them down, the gusset getting "caught" I whispered
"spread your legs, Carol" and she did. The panties came free and
lowering them slowly to her ankles, Carol instinctively lifted first one
leg,
giving me a clear view of her pussy, and the unmistakable now aroma of
sexual
arousal, then the other. I took the panties and handed them to Miss
Grace.

"Thank you, pretty Liz."

Lane, meanwhile had stood transfixed. Miss Grace turned on her. Lane,
of course, was still fully dressed in sweater and skirt. "And your name?"

"Um, Lane, ma'am, but some people call me Laney."

"Have you also taken part in abusing my son?"

"We were just playing, Ms. Lauren. We thought it was ok."

"And it is. ANDREW!"

Andrew jerks his head up, his look almost pitiful, but his still stiff
penis reassured me that this wasn't exactly what any of us would call
"abuse". Well, maybe "sexual" abuse.

Miss Grace strode over to the couch, and took a seat in the center.
"You" pointing at Carol, who had been attempting, without much success to
cover her nudity with her hands, "Come sit here" patting the place on the
couch next to her. "Laney, sit here on the coffee table, and Liz, you sit
here," patting the other seat on the couch to her left.

We comply, obediently.

"ANDREW!"

Zombie-like, Andrew goes to his mother and stands between her knees.
Miss Grace grabs hold of his penis and squeezes. "This" she says, watching
the look on her son's face" "is a penis, which I see you have become
familiar with." "This," her hand moves lower, grabbing with fingernails
clearly
embedding themselves "is where his testicles would be, if I allowed
them to descend. Two things to remember, girls..." We were watching,
fascinated. Yes, we had been pretty mean, but so far nothing like the
way his own
mom was treating him.

"First, his testicles are NOT to descend, EVER. Second, Andrew has a
problem which needs constant correction and discipline, namely," her hand
squeezed his empty sac even more tightly, "this ugly erection. You may do
whatever you think is needed to eliminate that problem, and as for his
testicles..." squeezing even tighter, I imagine her fingernails are
bringing blood,
now, "Andrew needs several good, hard kicks a day. I can't always be
expected to deliver them, so I'm going to be counting on you girls to
help out."

From Lane..."Um, Ms. Lauren, the other day he, um...spurted some stuff
out of his, um, penis and it wasn't pee, was it?"

"That's right, Laney," she smiled and I felt a wee twinge of jealousy.
As quickly as it came though, it was gone.

"And Laney, did you notice that very soon afterwards he no longer had
the ugly erection?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I did."

"Ok, girls, there are 3 ways that Andrew will lose his erection. Two I
approve of, one I definitely do not. Andrew, across my knee."

Andrew, his tiny empty sac at last released, crawls up over his mom's
lap, face up, without being told, we note.

"First, is to masturbate him" Andrew's penis is prominent, even more so
as Miss Grace places her left arm around his neck, and draws his face into
her armpit. With 2 fingers she begins an up and down motion on his penis.
"This, I definitely do NOT allow." Continuing her stroking, Andrew begins to
moan, his penis begins to twitch.

"Second, is to beat him severely. You can whip him, spank him, slap his
penis, but lately that doesn't seem to work."

Miss Grace slaps Andrew's penis hard, then again. Andrew moans into is
mom's armpit, but he remains stiff. "You," pointing to Carol, "Bring me that
belt."

Carol jumps up and gets the belt from the floor and hands it to Miss
Grace, then retakes her seat. Apparently her complete nudity is
forgotten for
the moment and I was treated to the sight of her bare, nearly hairless
pussy and small budding breasts, and what I would soon judge to be a very
spankable bottom.

"Even this belt," with a grunt, she brings it down forcefully onto
Andrew's erect penis, "won't do it." One more hard, hard stroke and we
watched,
waiting for what should have been the result, but still Andrew is
stiff.

"So, girls," Miss Grace releases Andrew and he stands, in front of
Lane, who like us has been watching, mouths agape, "there is only one
sure way.
It involves pain, the most intense pain boys can experience, but for
Andrew, also pleasure, in a way, as you will see."

"Laney, dear, please hold Andrew's arms." Laney does so, easily as they
are still somewhat entrapped in his shirt. "You" pointing to Carol, "push
his legs apart." Carol jumps up then kneels down to do so.

"Pretty Liz, please do the honors."

I have recently experienced what the others have not. I have been
brought to a place of indescribable ecstasy by having my most private of
privates
spanked, and HARD. I know what my Miss Grace expects of me, I see it
confirmed when our eyes meet, and I am at once an equal to her.

For a second I wonder if my friends will see my pussy when my leg comes
up. For another second I feel a surge of lust seeing Carol's naked back,
and the curve of her cute bottom as she kneels to hold Andrew's legs wide
apart. One last thought as I judge the distance to Andrew's crotch with
my foot,
lifting it up, testing, will Miss Grace love me more if I do this
right?

My mind goes to a "different" place, and nearly unthinking my foot
comes up in a mild kick to Andrew's empty sac. I feel, more than see Miss
Grace's smile of encouragement. Feeling like a ballerina, my foot connects
again, this time staying there, wriggling my toes, thinking how fun it might
be one day to get some toes into Andrew's bottom hole. The thought intrigues
me, and my next kick is much harder. Then another, and one more. An odd,
sweet-feeling mental connection with Miss Grace...a nod of
encouragement... and lust... for me.

I kick, again, and again, and again...then, coming out of my trance, I
feel Lane restraining me. Opening my eyes, I see Andrew has indeed lost his
erection. There is a small pool of clear white fluid on his tummy. His
face is scrunched up in pain. I look to Miss Grace and she is smiling. She
stands and her hands once again enfold my face.

I lose myself...in her kiss.

For Carol, Lane and I things went along, but there came to be a new
"routine."

A little after we'd get to my mom's and my apartment after school,
there would be a timid knock on the door, and there would be Andrew. He was
always dressed the same way...A white shirt way to big for his slight frame,
and elastic Speedo shorts. The only thing that changed was his cufflinks.
He had quite a collection, and all of them were in some way either religious
or BDSM themed. A lot of crosses, but nearly as many miniature handcuffs
or nooses, or whips.

We'd look him over to see how long it had been since his last beating.
Carol would turn him this way and that and make remarks about the color of
his welts, either front or back, then yank those speedos down and off and
question him or make some comment about how or why he got switched by
his mom. Andrew would accept all this without comment or objection, but
when he answered her questions, it was always as though he had done
"something'
to deserve it. Evidently my "friend" Miss Grace had a very low tolerance
for "talking back." Carol also got to where she would grab hold of Andrew's
penis and question him closely, while squeezing, about the reasons for
his welts, especially the fresh-looking ones. If he wasn't erect when he
came over, he was after an "interrogation" from Carol.

Next, Carol would rearrange the furniture for the next part of the
"routine" which was to tie him spread eagle on the floor. Pieces of rope
kept in
a drawer of the coffee table would be brought out, Carol would tie his
wrists to the couch legs while Lane and I would tie his ankles to the easy
chair.

Andrew, though bright red faced, never uttered any objection. And there
was his ever present erection.

Then, we'd play doll stuff, using Andrew's tummy, thighs and penis as
props for our Barbie's doll's house. Carol would love to use his penis as
Barbie's chair, and especially if the "game" became a lover's quarrel
between
Barbie and Ken, Andrew's penis would become a target for Ken's or Barbie's
wrath.

But most often, we'd play cards, with Andrew's tummy as the card table.

Carol made up new rules for 'War" which she called "Combat War." Each
play, and each taken 'trick' was to be delivered with a hard slap to
Andrew's
stomach. She also made up new rules for Cribbage. Instead of advancing
pegs on a Cribbage board, we'd place clothespins on Andrew's penis. It
didn't make much sense, in fact it was a pretty stupid way to keep
score, but
whoever couldn't get one more clothespin onto Andrew's penis lost,
rather than won. Our strategy became to try to leave as much room as
possible,
leaving room for more clothespins, just in case we won a crib.

Finally, there was strip poker. Of them all, this turned out to be my
favorite. Carol would wear a total of 4 pieces of clothes. Sweater,
singlet, jeans, panties, period. We had all taken to going shoeless.
Lane was
also similarly dressed, but she kept her socks on, so even when I won,
she's still only down to panties and sweater. And win, I did. I took to the
game like a fish to a bicycle. Carol couldn't bluff her way out of a paper
bag, and I knew it. Don't tell Carol, but as far as I was concerned, a flush
beat a full house. Unless it was me with the full house, of course.

There were 2 steps to losing after being naked. First was to give
Andrew his daily "treatment"; several swift, slow, or even a "casual"
kicks to
Andrew's empty ball sac to keep those danged testicles from descending.
That was
the part Carol liked best, and I think sometimes she'd fold on purpose. The
second loss of a hand after being naked was to get spanked by the
winner. That was the part I liked best. Carol had the cutest little
bottom. I'd
have her bend over, put my left arm around her waist, and give her 5 hard
smacks when I won. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Andrew being secured the way he was, and the 3 of us "playing" over and
on top of him, we couldn't help but notice whether or not he was erect.
Because Miss Grace had given us the gist of how and what to do about
Andrew's
"difficulty," it became a problem to play strip poker. When Carol took
her sweater off, no matter the state of Andrew's penis, it either got hard,
or harder. When Carol stood to remove her panties, or when she took her
singlet off ( thinking back, it was Carol who was ALWAYS losing) Andrew's
penis, if stiff, would do that twitch thing...if soft,(rarely) it would
become
stiff. Carol seeing this took to loving to tease Andrew with the forbidden
"masturbation" taking his penis with 2 or 3 fingers and stroking it.

Carol was forever making up new "rules" for the card games. On one
memorable afternoon, at the conclusion of a game of "War" followed by a
game of
Cribbage, then a quick game of strip poker, Andrew's fully erect penis
was covered with clothespins. Carol is naked from her usual loss at strip
poker and her bottom is still pink from my spanks. She squatted over
Andrew's
face and I thought for a moment that she was going to pee on him. Instead,
she used her finger to flick the clothespins, lowering her pussy down onto
his face with each flick, ending, finally with Andrew's nose and mouth
covered with Carol's crotch. She rocked, back and forward. Andrew's penis
started doing the twitch thing and finally Lane saw the danger in what was
going on. Standing, she moved between his legs and gave Andrew the
"treatment"
kicks. It was a close call. On her first kick to Andrew's crotch he spilled
his stuff onto his tummy. The second and third kicks brought more and more
of the white goop, and knocked the remaining clothespins off. On the
fourth kick, Andrew appeared dried up, and "cured" of his erection. Carol
stood, naked, looking very red from her face to her little nipples and very
distracted. The few freckles she had on her chest stood out in contrast
to the flush.

"Um, Carol?" I was a little concerned with that glazed over look. "Are
you ok?"

She turned her face toward me, but it was like she was looking at
something way, way behind me.

In a flash I knew what had happened. Carol had just had one of those
awesome experiences like I had with Miss Grace. I pushed her gently over
to the
couch and got her seated. "Lane, get me my bathrobe, please."

I saw the concern in Lane's eyes as well as she jumped up to run to my
bedroom and said over her shoulder, "Is she ok?"

"Yeah, I think she'll be fine," smiling to myself.

As Lane comes back with my bathrobe, the phone rings. I grab it on the
first ring, then blush a ton myself.

"Is this you, Liz?"

My knees went weak, and I plopped down next to Carol on the sofa. "Who
is it?" asked Lane, helping Carol on with the bathrobe. I was unable to
speak. All the memories from that fateful afternoon 2 weeks ago came
flooding
back in a rush.

On the phone, "Hello? Am I speaking with my pretty Liz?"

"Um...yes, ma'am...I mean Miss Grace."

"And are you having fun this afternoon with my son, Liz?"

With each of her words my nipples became hard, almost painful, I
imagined I could hear my heart beating a million times faster and
pulsing in my
brain, and I found the strength to stand for fear of my juices leaking
through
my panties and staining my mom's couch.

After a moment I found my voice. In almost a whisper I answered
"um...yes, Miss Grace."

"How nice," I could feel her smile of approval...and...love?

"Liz, dear, do you remember what I had you wear when I felt like you
needed to be punished?"

I crossed my legs, looking, I'm sure, like I needed to pee, but I was
so "full"... like that Fiona Apple sang... "like a tick."

"Yes, Miss Grace?" The last thing I wanted to sound like was I was
asking a question. I cursed myself mentally.

"Well, pretty Liz, I wonder if you could put those on and come up to my
apartment. I think it's time we had another little chat."

"Um, yes, Miss Grace, of course. Is there something wrong?"

"Do as I say, pretty Liz. Quickly, now."

"Yes of course, Miss Grace, I'll be there right away."

Numbly I replaced the phone in its cradle. Had I done something wrong?
Was she angry with me because I could hardly talk after I recognized her
voice? Was it something else? My mind began suddenly to swirl with guilt.

Carol had "recovered" enough to be looking at me questioningly, as was
Lane.

"I have to go, ok? Um...maybe you should untie Andrew now? Um...Miss
Grace, I mean Ms. Lauren wants to see me upstairs." I nearly ran into my
bedroom to change into the leather skirt (not worn since that day) and white
blouse. Since Carol and Lane had lost every hand at strip poker, I was still
fully dressed, including my training bra. At the last minute I
remembered and
pulled it off then replaced and re-buttoned the blouse.

Emerging from the bedroom, I saw that Andrew was indeed untied, but
lying face up on the coffee table. Lane and Carol were kneeling on each
side,
Carol doing the forbidden "masturbation" with 2 fingers, and Lane
watching intently. Andrew's penis was only a little stiff, so Carol was
having
some trouble. I paused a moment to watch and heard Carol, "Laney, give me
that belt," pointing. It wasn't that huge rodeo belt (that went right back
into my closet 2 weeks ago) but a much thinner, lighter one from the jeans
she was wearing that day. Never taking her fingers from Andrew's penis, she
managed to loop the belt around her fist till there was maybe a foot of
it to use the way she intended. Her left arm went up, and not being left
handed, I can't know if it was a bad miss, or deliberate on Carol's
part, but the belt struck Andrew across his face. I heard Andrew grunt
at the
same time his penis appeared to stiffen. Encouraged, Carol repeated the blow
to his face, her fingers working faster. All at once Andrew's penis
erupted, the goop going as far as his chest, surprising Lane, Carol, and
mostly,
me.

Oh my God, is THAT what it is? I ask myself. Has Carol has been doing
the forbidden masturbation when I wasn't looking and Andrew told his mom?
My heart is suddenly in my throat. I force my feet to move towards the
door. I already feel very, very late.

************

Rather than wait for the elevator which I knew could take hours to get
there, and it was only a 50/50 chance it would be going the right way,
I decided impulsively to use the stairs. After all it was only one floor
up.

Almost running to the end of the hall I grabbed the door, entered the
stairwell, and hearing the door closing behind me grabbed the railing
to get added momentum, started up. The stairwell was well lit, but very
dusty.
At just about the time I was realizing what this might mean, I heard a
"click" from the 4th floor door closing behind me.

Upward I rushed. "When Miss Grace says 'jump' I guess I say how high" I
mumble to myself with a smirk of sudden self awareness.

Finally reaching the fifth floor door, I pull up short seeing that the
push bar has been removed, and there isn't a doorknob, only a key lock.

"Shit.shit.SHIT!"

I pounded on the door, and stood breathing hard and fast hoping, no
praying there was someone to hear me.

After a minute or so, and 3 more "shit"s later I headed back down the
stairs. "Guess I take that damn elevator after all."

Back in front of my own floor's door, the rising panicky feeling
notches up a few pegs. It's the same as the one upstairs. I don't even
bother to
knock. I knew the only ones on our floor at that time of day were Lane,
Carol
and I and judging from what I saw as I was leaving my apartment, I knew
the 2
of them were probably occupied with our "guest". I turn and fly down the
stairs, my panic at being "late" increasing at each landing.

Finally at the bottom landing I push the push bar (relief, then a self
admonition.of COURSE there's one down here) and suddenly find myself
OUTSIDE!

"Shit.shit.SHIT!"

I'm in an alley which I don't recognize. ("Now, Elizabeth," my mom has
said who knows how many hundreds of times, "stay out of the alleys. You
never know what could be lurking down there"). I stop short, wind milling my
arms to slow my momentum. I turn around to grab the closing door and miss by
a fraction of an inch. It closes with that now familiar "click". It's a
cool Spring afternoon and unexpectedly, my nipples harden, and there is a
very unfamiliar chill at the gusset of my now soaked panties. Horrified, I
realized how I was dressed.bare foot, thin white blouse and braless,
but worst of all, wearing a leather micro-mini skirt bought on that silly
whim, and never had the nerve to wear. That is until Miss Grace picked
it out
for me. How can I go out onto the street? And which way do I go anyway?
There are busy streets I see at both ends of the alley. Our building is only
a block off Flatbush, but the panicky trip down the stairwell has me
totally disoriented.

And I am SO late for my "chat" with Miss Grace.

Brooklyn has pretty heavy foot traffic even on the worst of days. On a
Spring day it's like lower Manhattan. There are a million people
walking by at each end of the alley. In my mind I do a quick "eenie, meenie,
minee, moe," and choose left. I tugged my skirt down to cover as much
leg as I
can while not baring too much of my belly, and walked with as much
confidence as I could muster toward the street.

I get to the end of the alley just as a group of Puerto Rican boys are
walking past.

"Yo, bitch," the bigger of the 5 calls out, "how much?"

Oh, God, I look like a "common prostitute" as my mother called them.

Trying to ignore the insult, I know I have to have a landmark. These
guys won't know the store I go to when we run out of cokes, but I do know my
way from the, uh, big hotel.what's it called. The Hilton maybe, jeez I am
so in trouble, I can't think.

In an instant I knew what to ask.

"Could you guys help me please? I'm just a little lost. Can you tell me
where the courthouse is?"

All 5 of them think this is enormously funny. "Why?" the large one
asks, "you got a date with the prosecutor?"

Again a huge laugh at my expense. Lots of high fives, silly looking,
weird handshakes and swearing later, the boys noticed they have drawn a
crowd.

"Yeah, hoe, down that block and left on Flatbush. You can't miss it."

I head back down the alley the way I came, lots of hoots and laughter
behind me. At the other end I know where I am. The front door of my
apartment
building is 2 doors down from here. Shit, I don't have my key. "Oh for
God's sake Liz, remember? You buzz the apartment."

It's like remembering your own telephone number. You almost never call
it. I doubt I have rung my apartment buzzer even once in the 6 years we have
lived here. My key was always close at hand.

The hundred yards or so I walked from the alley to my apartment were
the most humiliating of my short life. Head down, hair partially obscuring
my face, even with my arms crossed over by bare belly button I got looks.
Older women looking disparaging and disgusted, men looking either slyly or
openly, staring at my still hard nipples or legs, and one "common
prostitute"
reached out as though to tweak my nipple with a look on her face I
can't describe. With a quick shift of my body, I managed to avoid that.

Finally, I'm at my own front door. I find the buzzer for "Morgan" and
press it a dozen times, like an SOS.

A breathless sounding Carol answers, "What?"

"It's me, Carol, buzz me in, quick!"

Thankfully the door buzzer sounds and I quickly push my way into the
small lobby. SHIT! There on my left is a stairwell door. In my haste I must
have missed it.

I cross to the elevator and press the button like 20 times. At last the
door opens and rushing in, I bump into Mrs. Walton, who my friends and I
call, behind her back, of course "Mrs. Walker" or should I say I bumped into
her walker.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Mrs. Walker, I mean Mrs. Walton. Are you OK?" I reach
out to catch her arm gently. She pulls away, never taking her eyes from the
floor of the elevator.

"You damn kids" muttered, but loud enough for me to hear clearly, "no
respect for your elders."

I'm still counting seconds from when the call came from Miss Grace, and
how long it's been.

"Here, let me help you."

Again Mrs. Walton pulls away, and proceeds to take her damn sweet time
moving out of the elevator. I'm reduced to standing just inside the
door to prevent them from closing. Though still aware of my dress,
utmost on my
mind is my hurry to get to Miss Grace's apartment. I had been summoned. I
was letting her down. Finally the old hag is out of the elevator.

Rushing in I press the door close button about a hundred times, and it
finally does. Then I press the button for the fifth floor. The button
lights, but when I release it, it goes out. The elevator remains
frustratingly motionless.

"Shit.shit.SHIT!"

It was then I noticed that at some point a keypad had been installed
next to the fifth floor button. I hadn't noticed it before, and neither
Carol,
Lane or even my mom had mentioned it. Nothing else to do, I pressed the
button for the fourth, my floor. It took an agonizingly long time to get
there. Thankfully, none of my neighbors got on the elevator with me to
see the
way I was dressed. I would have died of shame.

After an eternity, the elevator finally reaches my floor. I push past
the oh so slowly opening doors and run down the hall to my apartment. I
push
the apartment door open (why is it unlocked? Oh, yeah, that was me) and
find Lane with a wooden cutting board from the kitchen in her hands in mid
swing, aiming at Andrew's butt. He is completely naked now, standing
with his
fingers interlaced behind his head. Carol has her fist wrapped around
his penis. I watched as Lane completes the stroke with the make shift
paddle, forcing Andrew's torso forward to cause friction with Carol's
fist. His
bottom is purple. It wasn't purple when he came down earlier, so
apparently this has been going on for some time. Before I utter a word, Lane
swings the board again, and to their apparent delight, Andrew spurts
more goop
onto the coffee table.

"Laney, get him on the coffee table." Carol is already swinging her leg
over so her pussy will be directly over his face when he is "in place." Lane
pushes the compliant Andrew onto the coffee table and positions him
face up, with his face where Carol's hairless, naked, and even from my
viewpoint, lips separated spread and engorged pussy will come down.

"Hey, Liz" said Carol, lowering herself in place, she has bent forward
some and placed her hands on either side of Andrew's torso. "So what did Ms.
Lauren want?" She is positioning herself carefully, her bottom hole on
Andrew's nose, and her pussy on his mouth. As ever I am enthralled with
Carol's perfect round bottom and the cute freckles on her chest.

I'm brought back to myself. "Oh, my God, Lane, where's that number? Ms.
Lauren's? Quick!"

Lane, too, is watching Carol's crotch, and points to a side table.
There's a pad there which I rush over to retrieve.

"Hey Liz, watch this." Carol starts moving her pussy forward and back
on Andrew's face. Her eyes close and her head tilts back. Meanwhile, I've
picked up the phone and start punching in the number.

As I hear the ringing on the other end, Carol begins moving faster, and
starts a low moaning.

"Yes?" It's Miss Grace. My eyes are glued to Carol.

"Um, Miss Grace? I'm."

"You are sorry." she cuts me off.

"Um, yes, but."

"And you are you about to give me an excuse for your tardiness."

Carol has begun moving faster still, and breathing raggedly. Miss
Grace's voice is almost contemptuous. Oh my God what have I done? I'm so
afraid
she won't love me anymore.

"Laney" Carol pants, "Do him now."

"Um, yes Miss Grace it's just that."

"I'm very disappointed in you pretty Liz."

"Yes, Miss Grace, and I really am very sorry, but I don't know how to
get to the fifth floor?"

"I would have thought your game of "Nazi Prisoner" would have gotten
little Andrew screaming the PIN for you."

Lane's arms are out at shoulder height for balance. She puts the heel
of her right foot on Andrew's (stiff, again) penis. Carol is moving faster,
grinding into Andrew's face, and I dimly wonder how he could breath.

"Um, yes Miss Grace, I didn't think of that? I'll be there in a minute?
Ok?"

The phone goes dead in my ear. I replace it on the hook.

Lane's heel comes slowly back, then forward, hard into Andrew's little
sac.

"Laney, again." Carol's voice is deeper, full of lust.

Lane's heel slams into Andrew's sac. Between kicks she rests her foot
on his penis.

"Yes.Laney.one.more."

The third and final kick is a particularly hard one. Andrew's arms lift
a few inches from his side and his penis spurts his goo. Carol screams in
ecstasy.

A few seconds pass while Carol continues her grinding. Andrew's chest
starts to heave. I rush over and placing my arms under Carols arms I
pull her
off. Andrew gasps for air.

"Gosh, Liz, why'd you do that? He always does that. I was enjoying it."

Always does that?

"Listen Carol, I need Andrew alive so he can tell me the PIN for the
elevator, OK?"

Lane hoots and heads toward the bathroom. No secret about what she'll
be doing in there. Many times Carol and I have smiled at each other when
we hear the unmistakable noises of her own self pleasuring. We long ago
had decided not to let on about it, though. Lane has always been the "shy
one" and she was our friend.

Andrew catches his breath and starts to rise. I reach and grab Carol's
arm
to prevent her from smacking him.

"Andrew, what's the number to get upstairs?" I ask.

"4384." Andrew doesn't look so hot. Not so much for Carol or Lane, but
he always seem to blush most when I speak to him. At that moment he looked
rather pale. The time to worry about that was later. I am at the very
least an hour "late".

I grab my keys (just in case) and once again head out the door, being
careful to lock it behind me. I stood in front of the elevator
impatiently, all the panic from before returning full force. My mind is
imagining
anything and everything that could have happened that would prompt a
"summons" from Miss Grace. Very high on my list was what I just
witnessed. I had no idea that Lane and Carol were doing the forbidden
masturbation
on Andrew, and that comment "he always does that" rang in my head. My
apartment was where the three of us met every afternoon. We all had
keys, I mean
we were bestest of bestest friends, even more so now that Andrew had
become our "playmate". But I had band on Thursdays, Lane had
cheerleading practice
on Tuesdays, and Carol had chess club on alternate Mondays. Even after
band I'd come home and find Carol and Lane, usually playing cards "on"
Andrew,
and thought nothing of it. I'd just join in and get in the spirit of
things.

At long last the elevator door opens and I nearly fall in my hurry to
get inside. I push the five button and enter the PIN on the keypad.
Nothing. I enter it again, and push five. Nothing. I try holding the
five button
in then entering the PIN, and to my vast relief, the elevator lurches
upward.

As the elevator opens on the fifth floor, I'm in awe. The door starts
to close before I could move. I quickly slip out, into the most gorgeous
hallway, if you could call it that, I have ever seen. There are 3
doors, like on my floor, but none of them have a number on them. There are
huge potted plants, real old but still extremely pretty couches and chairs,
and a rug which looks like it has to cost a million dollars (and probably
did, by the way, as you'll see).

I pick a door, the one mostly just in front of the elevator (which
closed with a "click" adding somewhat to my trepidation) and knock, timidly.
(Oh jeez, a "timid knock" from Andrew means he's in for a world of
hurt.what am I in for?)

Behind the door I hear the click of high heels on hardwood and brace
myself. No matter what Miss Grace says I am already sure I did it, or
thought
it, or something.

The door opens and there is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.
But it's not Miss Grace. My mouth drops open. She is maybe 18, bright red
lipstick, red hair like mine, done up in a tight bun, high cheekbones and a
figure to die for, accented by the skimpy "French maid" uniform she was
wearing.
Complete even with the lacey thing in her hair. The skirt part doesn't
quite completely cover her white lace panties. The top part is so low cut it
shows the top of her nipples. She has an amused look on her face. I close my
mouth.

"Um, I'm here to see Miss Grace? I mean Ms. Lauren?" Thank God I didn't
stutter.

"You must be Liz. You are very late, Miss Liz (like I needed to be
reminded) please come this way."

I walk meekly behind her noticing her back is as perfect as her front,
then take a second to look around. "Madam is in the den, and would like for
you to join her there" the girl says over her shoulder. We walk through
room after room of splendor. This is more than "House Beautiful" this is Taj
Mahal. Indoor gardens, fountains, statues and paintings. I keep
remembering to close my mouth.

Finally we reach these huge oak double doors. The girl opens them and
precedes me inside. On a huge couch in front of huge windows looking
out on the bridge is Miss Grace, legs crossed, wearing some kind of robe
with
Japanese looking pictures on it..

"Madam" the girl says, "Miss Liz has arrived."

"Yes, Susie, I see that. Please stay a moment. Pretty Liz, you are very
late, and not so pretty today."

"Um, Miss Grace."

"Hush Liz, we'll get to that later. First, what happened to your
blouse?"

"Well, I uh, kinda got lost?" How does she do this to me? Everything
out of my mouth sounds like whining. I look down and see the state I'm
in. The
white blouse is filthy. As are my bare feet.

"Susie, please take that filthy blouse away, and have it cleaned."

The girl comes to stand in front of me between Miss Grace and I. She is
smiling as she begins to unbutton my blouse. I'm at a loss as to what
to do or say so I just stand there. After the bottom button opens the girl
bends just a bit, giving me an even better view of her breasts, gently
slides
her hands inside the blouse on each of my hips, her hands slide slowly up,
separating the blouse, and at the same time her thumbs are tracing up
my tummy, then over my nipples, a caress under my armpits, then the blouse
falls over my shoulders, down my arms to the floor behind me.

"I saw that, Susie," says Miss Grace. "Remind me to punish you later."

The girl goes bright red. "Yes, Madam."

She steps aside, head lowered, and her smile gone. I still don't know
where to look, or what to do with my hands so I stand there fidgeting.
Starting to raise my hands, then lowering them. Looking out the window
at the
bridge, then the floor, then over there, then over there. I am totally
embarrassed. With each glance at Miss Grace I see she has that bemused look.

"I see you followed at least one of my instructions, Liz. I'm happy to
see you didn't wear that silly training bra." Finally. I almost melt having
at last pleased her. "Now, show me that you remembered to forget the
panties. Turn around and lift your skirt."

Shit.shit.SHIT! I forgot! What is she going to think now? I close my
eyes tightly, turn, and lift the skimpy skirt above my waist.

"Mmmm, I see. Pretty Liz, you can't help but be naughty, can you?"

God I could just die. And it's true. I must have forgotten on purpose.

"Susie, please free my pretty Liz of those panties."

"Yes, Madam." Again the girl is between Miss Grace and I, I feel her
fingers in the waistband, and then a breeze on my butt as they are
lowered to
the floor. I step out of them, still holding my skirt up. Susie was much
more circumspect this time, I only felt her fingers where absolutely needed
to take my panties down. What I DID see, and apparently Miss Grace did
not, was Susie quickly taking a sniff before dropping them next to my
blouse.

"Come sit here, Liz. Time for our chat," patting the seat next to her.
She hadn't said anything about letting my skirt drop, so I continued
holding it up as I turned and walked to where she indicated.

"Now, pretty Liz. You know I am going to have to punish you, don't
you?"

As red as I must have been already; after all I am sitting topless with
my skirt hiked up above my waist next to the woman I believe I have come
to love, and under the gaze of that oh so beautiful girl in the French
maid uniform.I know I went even redder.

"Yes, ma.yes, Miss Grace" I squeak out.

"And do you think you could tell me why please, Liz? Susie, that's
enough for now. Have those.things cleaned at once. And don't forget to mark
your book. Understand?"

"Yes Madam, of course." And again I was entitled to a view of her
cleavage, the top slipping even lower so I could see all of her nipples
as she
bent to pick up my clothes. Susie leaves, and Miss Grace and I are alone.

Her question is burning in my brain. Am I an idiot for inviting
punishment? Last time it was so.painful/wonderful. But how many million
things
could I tell her? If I tell her one thing, and get a spanking, what
happens if
I tell her a million things? In my panic, I decide on the safest route.

"Um, Miss Grace, I was late."

"And?"

"And I forgot to take off my panties before I came over?"

"And?"

"And I looked at your maid's titties?"

Her laughter is just like I remembered. Sweet, so genuine, it's why I
love her.

"That's a very small part of the list, dear, pretty Liz."

With that she opens a drawer and takes out a remote control. She
presses a button and a panel slides open. My eyes are drawn that way. A
huge TV
screen comes into view. On it is a picture, no, a movie, of my living room.
The picture is so clear I can't believe it, like real life almost. There's
Carol and Andrew.

"This is happening now, Liz. Maybe you could explain a few things for
me."

On the TV Andrew is over a naked Carol's lap, face up, very much like
that time Miss Grace took him over her lap. He is also naked, with his face
in Carol's armpit, and she is clearly masturbating him. There are Carol
sized handprints all over the front of his thighs. As I watch, her 2 fingers
squeeze his penis hard, bringing a clear drop of fluid out of his
penis, a hard slap on his upper thigh, then she continues to masturbate him.

"I'm quite certain I said absolutely no masturbation, isn't that right,
pretty Liz?"

"But.Miss Grace.I'm not there."

"I see."

Again her fingers find a button on the remote, another panel opens,
another huge TV screen, and this time the picture is frozen. Again it's my
living room, a different angle, and I'm in the picture this time. Carol has
her fist on Andrew's penis, Lane is in mid swat aimed at his purple bottom
with the cutting board. She must have pressed "play" because the scene
started. That swat was the one where Andrew squirted. It's clear in the
picture
that I see it all.

"So here I wait, quite patiently, for my pretty Liz, but she is too
busy watching her friends doing the only thing I have forbidden. What do you
have to say for yourself, pretty Liz?"

I am petrified. Is it possible to be guilty and innocent at the same
time?

"I am ready to accept my punishment, Miss Grace."

"Oh, I doubt that, but accept it or not, it's coming."

On the "live" screen Andrew grunts and spurts. Carol chuckles, and
begins to slap away at the top front of his thighs. After just a few
seconds,
Andrew is stiff again, and Carol starts over.

Miss Grace presses a button and almost instantly Susie appears. Having
readjusted her uniform, her nipples are covered again. "Susie, I am
going to be delivering a very severe punishment to pretty Liz. I want you to
take her with you and get her cleaned up. And Susie? A VERY severe
punishment,
do you understand?"

"Yes, of course Madam, I understand."

Susie comes to where I am sitting and taking my elbow, jerks me none
too gently to my feet. As we leave, I turned to see Miss Grace turning to
the "live" screen, smiling.

It is the biggest bathroom I have ever seen in my life. It's almost as
big as my living room! The "tub" is full, with bubbles, and smelling like
lavender. The "tub" could double as a swimming pool. Susie stops me
inside the door and turns me towards her. Bending down, she adjusts my skirt
to about where it should be and reaching behind me, lowers the zipper. No
matter what's to come with Miss Grace, I can't wait to get into that
tub.

Susie sees my longing. "No, Miss Liz, that's for later."

I'm naked now, and Susie leads me to a steel table. With a small
gesture of her head, I climb up onto it.

"On your tummy, Miss Liz."

I laid down and rolled over, waiting for what's next. The table is cold
and my nipples harden uncomfortably. Susie walks over to a steel cabinet.
She opens it, seems to consider, then comes back with a large rolled up
towel and other stuff I've never seen before.

"Lift up, Miss Liz." I do and the towel is slipped under my hips.
Lowering myself back down, my butt is pushed up, like I'm waiting to be
spanked.
Is that what Miss Grace meant? That Susie would be spanking me? I'm
juicing up again.

Susie picks up three tube looking things, each with a bubble on one
end, and each a different size. She nods to herself and decides on the
biggest
one.

"So how did you meet Miss Grace?" I ask. In response I get a sharp slap
on my butt.

"You just hush, no speaking until spoken to."

Fine. My butt stings, I'll keep my mouth shut.

I'm watching as closely as I can, I decide it's best to move, so some
of Susie's preparations take place where I can't see. Susie puts on a pair
of medical looking gloves. I don't think this is going to be a spanking. I
hear a jar open. I see Susie make movements similar to masturbating Andrew.
Then I feel latex covered fingers separating my butt cheeks. Now I'm really
embarrassed. Except for the spanking delivered by Miss Grace, during
which I was so.ready.for her to see anything she wanted, no one has
inspected
by bottom hole this closely in my memory. And the next was a bit of a
shock.Susie was pressing something cold and wet against that most
private hole. I clenched tight in reflex.

"If you don't relax, Miss Liz, this is certain to be very
uncomfortable."

I do my best to relax that muscle. Still Susie's close watching is
making it very difficult. At some point Susie decides the time is right, and
something is stuck an inch or so up my butt. It wasn't unpleasant, and I
relaxed
a little more. It is pushed in a little more. This isn't bad at all, I
think, as it's withdrawn a bit, then pushed in further. I am over my
embarrassment pretty much, especially since the fingers holding my
cheeks opened are
removed. The thing in my butt goes in a little, then withdrawn a
little, then pushed in further. Susie begins a steady, rhythmic in some, out
some motion, and I feel a latex covered finger on my sex. And I feel like I
have to poop.

"You are a naughty thing, aren't you Miss Liz?" Oh God I bet I'm wetter
down there than I thought. The finger on my sex is taken away, leaving me
pushing up for more. Another hard slap on my butt. Now what?

"No moving."

Every time I start to have fun, there's a new rule.

Susie brings over a thin pillow and places it under my cheek. "Hands
behind your head." I do so. "Remember this, it is going to be very important
that you remember this position, Miss Liz. When Madam says "Position," this
is what she means. No matter what pose she has you in, when she says
"Position" you immediately put your hands behind your head. Is that clear?"

I know, of course, who "Madam" is, and to "Madam" I am pretty Liz, I
know to Susie I am "Miss Liz", but what exactly do I call this girl?

"Susie?" A quick hard slap on my butt. "Uh, Miss?"

"Miss Susie is fine."

"Um, Miss Susie? What is that thing in my butt?"

"You'll find out soon enough, Miss Liz. Now answer my question."
Another hard slap.

I think back. "Yes, Miss Susie, I understand." Another hard slap. I
guess I'm getting my spanking from Susie after all.

"Again, please?" And another hard slap.

"Yes, Miss Susie, I understand what 'position' means."

"Better. That 'thing' in your bottom is an enema nozzle. I will soon
attach a bag of warm, soapy water to it. It will flow into you so you
will be
cleaned out. It can be very uncomfortable, Miss Liz, but Madam and I
both expect you to endure it. It is Madam's pleasure that you have this. I
like you, Miss Liz, somewhat, in fact, like Madam I find you adorable, so I
will do my best to make it as pleasant as possible."

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, Miss Suzie," I blurt
out. "And thank you, I think."

"No," says Susie, "Madam is the most beautiful woman in the universe,
Miss Liz, but thank you, too."

The nozzle in my bottom twists and turns. In a moment I feel the "warm,
soapy water" entering me.


**********

All at once I feel an urgent need to go to the toilet. "Um, Miss Susie?

Another hard slap on my bottom, the nozzle deep inside me wiggles in a
wonderful way.

"No speaking, and we are not through, yet. If you do not behave, I will
add another bag. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Miss Susie." I try to lift up some from the rolled towel under my
tummy to relieve some of the growing pressure. Two hard spanks this
time. I lower herself back down delicately. At last the nozzle is pulled
gently
out. Susie briefly massages my bottom cheeks, then pushes something else,
larger at the tip of it anyway back deep into my bowels, then comes around
into my full view.

"Just a few more minutes," checking her watch, "and you will be allowed
to relieve yourself." Sweat beaks out on my forehead. At the moment I am
sure that if I am not allowed to go to the toilet I will die, Susie says,
smiling, "times up, Sweetie, go ahead."

I jump up and off the steel table, totally oblivious to my complete
nudity and start a frantic reach for the plug in my behind while running
towards the pair of toilets. One is totally unfamiliar to me and with a
yank on
the plug, and a grunt, free it from inside me. I keep it in my hand,
standing in confusion in front of the two porcelain bowls. Susie's laugh
behind me
is full of mirth. "The one on the left, Miss Liz."

After finally being allowed to empty my bowels, and learning the
workings of a bidet, Susie leads me to the fabulous bathtub. I slip into
it with a
huge sigh. The water comes up to my chin while standing. Susie indicates
that there are seats all around the perimeter of the tub. I nearly swoon
with the pleasure of this. The softness and warmth of the water, the
bubbles,
the wonderful lavender scents. There are fresh pink towels and washcloths
piled high all around the edge. I have my eyes closed in near rapture.
When I
open them, Susie is removing her uniform. As her perfect "C" cup breasts are
exposed, fully, then Susie's dark red patch of neatly trimmed pubic
hair comes into my view as Susie steps out of the frilled panties, I'm again
struck by the extraordinary beauty of the redheaded maid. Susie reaches
behind her head and with a quick movement and a short shake of her head
her bright red hair cascades down her back. With a sensuous smile, Susie
descends the tub stairs and drifts over to where I am seated. I feel a
hand cupping my sex. My first impulse is to close my thighs, but I don't,
seeing a subtle shake of Susie's head.

"Feeling better, Miss Liz?" Susie's other hand cups her own breast, and
offers a nipple to me to suckle. I kiss it, tentatively.

"Madam says to get you cleaned up," Susie says with a sigh. Any hint to
Madam that she has seduced Miss Liz without permission will surely be
met with a most severe punishment. Even as I begin to push against the hand
at my sex, Susie withdraws it and begins to lather both hands with a sweet
smelling soap. Beginning at my neck, she does a very thorough cleansing
of me from head to toe. She has me float on my back, supporting me gently
with a hand under my bottom, and carefully washes my tiny breasts and
hairless pussy and the rest of my front. My hair is shampooed next. Finally
Susie has me crawl half out, elbows supporting myself on the edge, while
my back
is washed. Susie knows what Madam means by "thorough" so I am subjected to
a most intimate inspection for armpit, leg, or pussy hair. Or even a
single hair around my bottom hole. Susie finds none.

Pronouncing me finished, I rise from the tub regretfully. Next comes
being dried with the softest, largest towel I have ever seen or felt.
Then my
hair is dried, brushed, and pulled into a tight ponytail. Finally Susie
dresses me. A fresh, silky, diaphanous white blouse. I remain motionless
as my
small breast buds and nipples are gently stroked as the buttons are done up
to my chin, but tied under my breasts. An itty bitty red plaid skirt is
wrapped around my waist. Susie checks over my shoulder to one of the
floor to
ceiling mirrors and tugs it down to just barely cover the crease at the
lower part of my butt cheeks. Lastly, the only accessory; a thin, brown
leather belt.

Susie has been nude during my "toilet" and now hurriedly dresses
herself in a fresh uniform. She quickly dries and rewraps her hair into
a tight
bun and replaces the headpiece. I am so sorry to see the breasts and
pubic hair
disappear. With a last check in the mirror for both of us, Susie says
"follow me."

Once again I follow Susie's perfect bottom through room after room of
utter opulence. Again I am in front of the huge oak doors of "the den." I
follow Susie inside. Miss Grace is still on the huge couch, watching the
"live" screen.

"I have prepared Miss Liz, Madam."

"Well, well, pretty Liz, come over here and let me see you. Don't you
look so cute, like a naughty schoolgirl."

Suddenly I am embarrassed again by my near nakedness. For a second I
stand just inside the door, then with a gentle nudge from Susie I move with
my hands clasped in front of me to stand before Miss Grace. I do indeed
feel like a very naughty schoolgirl.

Miss Grace gestures toward the screen she has been watching. I look and
see a still naked Carol, and Miss Grace's still naked son. He is still on
the coffee table, face up, but Carol has bent his legs all the way back so
his ankles are at his ears, then sitting over his face and legs pinning him
beneath her. She is grinding her pussy on his face, her left hand is
yanking at his limp penis. In her right hand is the cutting board used
earlier
to pummel his bottom. She is holding the larger end, and shoving the
handle part into Andrew's anus. Miss Grace turns up the volume.

Andrew is crying, though muffled as he is by Carol's pussy. Carol
sounds like she is grunting, but I am able to distinguish words.

"Get.it.stiff." each word accompanies a thrust of the cutting board
handle in his butt, and a vicious yank on his penis.

"So, pretty Liz, I wonder if you could tell me what is wrong with this
picture."

I turn back to face Miss Grace. "She is masturbating him?"

"Yes, she is. Now wasn't that the one thing I said never to do?"

"Yes, Miss Grace."

"Anything else?"

I half turn back to the screen and notice what hadn't really sunk in
until that moment. "Andrew isn't stiff?" It was the dog that didn't
bark. For
the entire time I had known Andrew, for all the hours that he was in our
company, Andrew's penis would go limp for only minutes at a time. For
the 5 minutes or so that we had been watching, even with Carol's
ministrations, he was still limp.

"That is exactly right, pretty Liz, and for that you have reason to be
somewhat pleased. That, pretty Liz, is your only saving grace. You will
certainly still be punished, but not as severely as I had planned."

I felt both dread and relief, and my pussy was flooding in
anticipation. Miss Grace lowered the volume, but Carol's grunting words
and Andrew's
muffled crying could still be heard. Miss Grace stood, and her robe
fell partly opened. Beneath the robe she was nude except for high heeled
shoes. I was unable to see her nipples, but was treated the sight of her
closely
trimmed blonde pussy.

"Susie, is our pretty Liz properly instructed?"

Susie was somewhat startled to be addressed so abruptly. Like me, she
was absorbed in the spectacle of Miss Grace's unveiled charms. Miss Grace
was over to her in 3 quick strides. I am sure the slap across Susie's face
echoed in the large room. Instinctively Susie brought her hand to her
face, then suddenly realized her mistake. Quietly, but using the most
frightening tone I have ever heard, Miss Grace says, "Susie, how dare
you interfere
with a punishment?"

Susie goes pale.

"Position, NOW!"

Susie's hands go immediately behind her head and her back straightens,
then arches, lifting the top of her breasts and nipples free of the uniform
corset. Miss Grace begins a methodical slapping of each of those
breasts. Susie's eyes are closed tightly in pain, tears begin to flow,
but she
utters not a sound. After 10 minutes or so of forehand and backhand slapping
of each breast, Susie collapses to the floor. Miss Grace places the toe of
her high heeled shoe on Susie's spread open pussy and presses. Even to my
uneducated eye I can see that Susie is experiencing a massive orgasm.
On the "live" screen, I can hear that Carol is doing the same.

Miss Grace turns to me. "Pretty Liz, I'd like a small favor from you. "

"Of course, Miss Grace." I don't hesitate a second to answer. The
consequences don't look real enjoyable.

"Now that your little friend seems to be taking a break, please call
down and have her bring Andrew up here, with Laney, too."

Susie has slowly gotten to her feet and hands me a phone. She readjusts
her uniform while I watch, covering her bruised nipples and most of her
bright red breasts. Miss Grace hands her a handkerchief to wipe her
tears and
running nose. I am standing in front of the "live" screen with an eye
on Carol's prostrate form on top of Andrew, and an eye on Miss Grace,
punching in my home number. Miss Grace sounds suddenly tender. "Susie,
you know
perfectly well that when I ask a question, I expect an answer, don't
you?"

"Yes Madam, of course," Susie sniffs.

"And we won't be needing to repeat that little performance again, at
least for a while?"

"No, Madam."

The phone rings endlessly in my ear.

"I am so pleased to hear that, Susie. Now go get yourself cleaned up.
When you are presentable, I'll be requiring the paddle, my device with
several attachments, and a ball gag, I think." Again Susie pales, to Miss
Grace's amusement. "Not for you, little one," she says with a smile and a
caress of Susie's bright red cheek, and to Susie's obvious relief. "And
one last
thing, Susie, when Liz's friends and Andrew arrive, please have them
wait in the library until I call for them.

"Yes, Madam, and of course the answer is yes."

Susie turns to leave, after a slight nod and dismissive gesture from
Miss Grace, closing the doors behind her. Finally the phone is answered, I
speak briefly in low tones to Carol. "Get up here, NOW! Bring Lane and
Andrew."

I put the phone down as I feel Miss Grace turn her full attention to
me.

"So now, my pretty Liz, what ARE we going to do about you? I think it
very important that we address your indiscretion. I understand that you did
not take part, but it is clear that you were either unwilling or unable to
prevent your friend, whatever is her name? from engaging in the
forbidden masturbation we both agree you witnessed."

"Her name is Carol, Miss Grace, and you are right about what I didn't
do."

"Liz, I am going to ask you a very important question, and you are not
to lie or exaggerate your answer. Is that clear?"

"Yes, of course, Miss Grace." As though I could consider such a thing.

"What do you think would be an adequate punishment?"

I don't hesitate at all. Not so much in fear of getting what Susie got,
but remembering our last encounter. "A spanking, Miss Grace?"

Miss Grace's face is impassive, she waits patiently.

"A very hard spanking, Miss Grace?"

Still no response.

"A very hard spanking.on my, um, pussy?"

"Warmer, Liz."

Oh, God, she sent Susie for a paddle. That must be the "right" answer.

"A very hard paddling, on my, um, pussy?" As painful as I imagine such
a thing could be, I can't help but rub my thighs together just a bit, to
relieve the "itch."

Miss Grace smiles, warmly. "No, pretty Liz, I have someone else in mind
to be on the receiving end of the paddle. Did you wonder why you are
wearing a belt? After all, it's of no use whatever holding up your
skirt. Would
you remove it and hand it to me please?"

With trembling fingers, I unbuckle the belt and extend it to her. "I
understand you know what I mean by "position."

Well, if Susie hadn't explained it in the bathroom, I had just seen
quite a memorable example. "Yes, Miss Grace."

"Delightful. Assume "position" now, pretty Liz."

Of course I know what is coming. I am frightened to death, and at the
same time willing to totally devote myself to this woman's every whim. My
hands shaking, massive butterflies in my tummy, I put my hands behind my
head. Doing so has raised the hem of my skirt to midway up my butt, and the
blouse rose to expose my nipples.

"Now pretty Liz, I am going to whip your bottom and your thighs with
this belt. I fully expect you to accept this punishment you have earned.
Since I am going to be using a belt, "position" also requires that you
spread
your feet apart. Do this now, please." I shuffle my feet apart a few inches.
"More, Liz. I want you to make me proud of you." Talk about magic
words. In another second my feet are 3 feet apart. My skirt is now even
with my
waist. "Also, pretty Liz, it helps to interlace your fingers."

I stand stock still but for trembling. Miss Grace walks slowly around
me. At that moment, Susie reappears.

"Susie, puts those things over on the sideboard, then come over here."

She does as she is told and hurries over.

"Madam, your guest is here, and your son."

"Thank you Susie. As you can see, I am about to administer a whipping
to pretty Liz here. Please adjust her skirt, and help me with my robe.

Susie kneels in front of me and carefully rolls the skirt so it is no
more than a belt. Her eyes are inches from my sex. My spread feet mean my
lips have opened. Susie glances up and smiles. I'm certain she knows of my
arousal. Even I can smell it. Then to my horror, I feel wetness running
down the inside of my thigh. She looks back at Miss Grace questioningly.
Miss Grace smiles and nods. Holding my hips, Susie leans forward. I feel her
nose brushing my sex, then her tongue, licking the inside of my thigh where
I felt the wetness. She pulls back with a sigh, licking her lips. "She is
ready, Madam." I am blushing madly with shame.and intense excitement.

Susie stands and moves to Miss Grace, and rolls up the sleeves of the
robe. Belt doubled in her hand, she walks behind me. I hope I can be brave.

With a whistling sound, the belt lands across my bottom, just at the
top of my crack. It hurts, it hurts oh shit it hurts. My hips jerk forward a
few inches, but I keep my hands in place. It hits me again, just a bit
lower. My eyes are shut tightly but I manage not to move. The most sting
is from
where the tip of the belt wraps partway around onto my hip. A very brief
pause, then 2 more in quick succession, each just a bit lower than the one
before. Another pause, then three in quick succession. Though in tears, and
awful, awful pain, I see her plan. With each hitting lower and lower, it
will
be just a few minutes before I will be anticipating being struck inside my
splayed thighs. The thought brings more of my juice running down inside
my thighs. For now, at least, it is only my bottom, full on both cheeks.

Miss Grace whispers in my ear. "You are doing very well, pretty Liz. I
am very proud of you." And kisses my earlobe lightly. Apparently I am
going to get a break. Miss Grace walks off, and I hear ice clinking in a
glass.
I have not been told to move, so I don't. Susie whispers in my other ear.
"You are so brave, adorable Miss Liz. You are almost through the first part.
Stay strong." She gives my dripping sex a gentle squeeze.

First part? Almost through? I'm already not sure how much more I can
take. The sting has become a throbbing. I am determined to take all that
Miss
Grace will do. The throbbing now seems to center in my pussy.

All too soon/not soon enough, another clink of ice as a glass is set
down on a wooden surface. In fear/anticipation I sense Miss Grace's
return to a
position behind me. This time 5 quick hits, lower, lower, lower still.
A pause.this next will surely hit my sex. Oh God, Oh God, I must be
brave. The belt whistles. It does. It could not have been more perfectly
aimed. My
sex juices splash all inside my thighs as the belt tip strikes directly
between my spread lips. I can't help but scream in pain/pleasure as an
orgasm
engulfs me. Miss Grace follows with 2 more, in precisely the same
place. My orgasm builds and builds. My screams now just an endless moan.
My hips
gyrating, I pray for a finger or 3 inside me. I am to be denied.

"Susie." Miss Grace has moved in front of me to watch my reaction.
Susie rushes to join her. Miss Grace holds up the belt for Susie to see. The
tip is soaked with my juice. "Bring pretty Liz a chair before she falls and
hurts herself." I am so grateful to Miss Grace I could hug her.

The chair Susie brings over is an old straight backed wooden chair with
a woven cane seat. Miss Grace pushes me gently onto it, then straddles my
lap. She takes each of my wrists from behind my head and places my hands on
her knees. Then she takes my face in her hands and kisses me, deeply,
passionately. As much as I felt love for this woman before, it is now
tenfold.

"My so very pretty Liz, I am so proud of you. Your punishment is almost
over." The effect of sitting on the caned seat is one of discomfort,
most especially on my whipped bottom, and even more especially with the
weight of Miss Grace on my lap. For now all of that is nothing compared
to my
love, her beauty, and the look in her eyes. She kisses me deeply again.
Susie
moves behind me and begins to massage my shoulders. This causes more
pressure of my sore bottom on the seat, but I am lost in Miss Grace's
kiss.

It goes on and on. She pushes her tongue into my mouth and moves closer
up on my legs. Susie's massage becomes firmer. Miss Grace moves one hand
behind my head, her other goes under my blouse to my nipple. The kiss
goes on
and on. My nipple is brushed, caressed, tweaked, then taken between her
thumb and forefinger and pinched. The hand behind my head grabs hold of the
pony tail. Miss Grace wraps it in her fingers. The kiss goes on and on. The
fingers on my nipple takes my hand and puts it under her to cup her
sex, then returns to my nipple. My hair is being tugged with each twist of
her fingers in my pony tail. Susie bears down more firmly on my shoulders.
The kiss goes on and on. The weight on my legs lessening in proportion to
the tugging on my pony tail and the pressure on my nipple increasing. Susie
stops my shoulder massage. Moaning, I maintain contact with Miss
Grace's sex for as long as possible then she is off my lap. Susie takes
my hands
and places them back behind my head. Our lips part, my nipple is released,
Miss Grace lets loose of my pony tail. I am breathless, close again to that
wonderful feeling. There is a sudden intense pain across my chest just
below my nipples. The belt is whistling again. Another pain in my crotch.
Miss Grace is aiming again with the belt. Susie is aiming again with a
switch. Involuntarily my knees open. The switch slams onto my chest in
exactly
the same place just below my nipples at the same time the belt lands
between my legs, directly on that little man in a boat I learned all about.
Love.pain.pleasure, all mixed up into one huge orgasm as both women
repeat their strokes over and over. I am no longer able to keep my hands in
place. I place them beside me on the chair to keep me from sliding off.
I have
been thrusting my pussy forward anticipating the belt. I am still
screaming, unaware that the punishment has ended.

Dimly I am aware that Miss Grace is speaking to Susie. I open my eyes
to see them embracing. "Excellent, Susie. Be sure to mark your book."

"Thank you, Madam." Susie curtsies.

"Now, pretty Liz, before I deal with your friends, there is one last
part of your punishment, but it is not nearly as uncomfortable." Miss Grace
crosses to the couch and sits. "Come here, Liz, I would enjoy seeing you
crawl
to me." I eagerly slip off the chair and on all fours, crawl to her. As I
approach, her legs spread. I know instinctively what she wants. I
nuzzle between her thighs. She pulls my head towards her sex. I put my
tongue
out as my face comes in contact with her sweet, musky pussy. I seem to know
just what to do because Miss Grace sighs and says "Susie, she is a natural."
My entire being goes into pleasing her. Behind me, I am surprised to feel
a finger on my most private hole. It is cold, greasy. My knees are pushed
apart, and Susie is kneeling behind me. Expecting more punishment, I
redouble my efforts to please Miss Grace to avoid more whipping.
Something hard is pushed against my hole. I am having trouble keeping up
with the
fluids flooding my mouth. The hard thing presses harder, and I have no
choice but to relax. More juices to swallow, the hard thing enters into
my butt. Warm hands reach around my waist, fingers are stroking my bruised
pussy lips. Miss Grace pulls my hair, and the hard thing, not
uncomfortable, moves in and out of me. The fingers on my sex are
bringing me to that
place again. Susie has lowered her breasts onto my back and is brushing her
warm nipples back and forth. Miss Grace's juices suddenly flood my mouth as
she uses my pony tail to pull my tongue even more deeply into her pussy.
Susie cries out in pleasure and the hard thing is thrust fully into me. I
grunt with my own orgasm, unable to make any other noise.

After a few moments, Miss Grace releases my hair, and the hard thing in
my butt is slowly drawn out. I look over my shoulder and see that Susie
has stripped, and has some strange leather harness strapped to her waist,
and attached to it is the hard thing. It looks like a much larger version
of Andrew's penis. Miss Grace has her head resting on the back of the
couch, eyes closed. I want a nap. Miss Grace pats the seat beside her. She
also pats the seat on her other side. Susie and I join her. We both put our
heads on her shoulders, and in seconds we are all snoring.

I open my eyes and judging from the amount of light coming in the
windows it is quite late in the afternoon. As I stir, so does Susie. She
puts her
finger to her lips to hush me. Carefully we disengage ourselves from
Miss Grace. Susie dresses, and I adjust my skirt and blouse, replace the
belt around my waist. Susie hurries off, but is back in a few moments with a
cup of coffee. She adds some dark liquor from the bar, and holds it under
Miss Grace's nose with a wink at me. She opens her eyes, smiles at both of
us, and stretches luxuriously. She puts an arm around our necks and draws
us to her for a kiss each. I don't ever want to leave the sight of this
woman
again. I vow to run away from home so I can live here forever.

"Back to business, girls. There are Carol and Laney to deal with. And
Andrew, of course."

"Madam, only Miss Carol and Andrew are here. Miss Carol explained that
Miss Laney had left for home."

"Fine. From what I have seen, Laney was simply going along with her
friend Carol. I am ready for Carol. You are certain she is still in the
library?"

Susie reaches into the apron of her uniform and holds up a key, then
hurries off.

Just as I was earlier, Carol is preceded into to den by Susie, who
announces her. Susie pushes and pulls a reluctant Carol to a spot a few
feet in
front of Miss Grace and me on the couch. She must have heard the urgency in
my voice because while she had taken the time to put on her jeans, she was
only wearing her singlet on top.

Miss Grace skips the pleasantries.

"You've been committing some rather heinous crimes on my son, Carol.
Not so much that I mind, however I wonder if the police might be interested?
Would you care to review the recordings?"

Carol stutters, probably for the first time in her self assured life.
"But, but, but."

The second of the panels slides open, and we all watch scenes of
Andrew's abuse, edited to mostly show Carol and Lane performing the
forbidden
masturbation.

"But, but, you can't bug someone's apartment!"

"I think any court would agree that I was concerned for the welfare of
my young son, and though possibly illegal, it was to monitor the
activities of those with whom I entrusted his care."

Carol is totally defeated. "Well, what about Laney? She did it ,too!"

"Fortunately for Laney, she is not here today."

"And.and.Andrew LIKED it!"

"I'm certain that a good lawyer will be able to convince a jury that
most 11 year old boys enjoy being smothered while there is a cutting board
handle up their ass."

"Oh, God," Carol looks pleadingly to me, "what have we done?"

"My pretty Liz was quite willing to pay the consequences of her
actions. However, except for a brief moment, Liz was unaware of many of your
activities, especially with regard to forbidden masturbation. Liz,
please stand and show Carol what happens to those who are not able to follow
my instructions."

I was delighted to rise from my place on the couch. Sitting was not all
that comfortable thing.

"Face me, darling." I turn and her gesture brings me to between her
knees. "Position, please, pretty Liz." I lace my fingers behind my head,
which
raises my skirt to the middle of my bottom, and the blouse to above my
nipples. Miss Grace reaches around my waist and raises my skirt
completely baring all my bottom bruises to Carol. "Turn again, please."
Now Carol
can see the bruises on and around my pussy, and the narrow set of stripes
just below my nipples. "Thank you, darling, you may take your seat now."

From the "position" command on, Carol is gasping, then sobbing, now
openly crying.

"I was quite generous with my pretty Liz, don't you think?"

Carol is blubbering, and clearly has no idea how to answer.

"And now I will be even more generous. Since it was you who caused Liz
to be disciplined, it will be Liz who disciplines you, under Susie's
guidance, of course. Meanwhile, I need to have a few words with my son."

Miss Grace turns to Susie, who stands instantly.

"Some restraints, please, an additional device, and bring Andrew to
me." Susie hurries off.

"Now, Carol, I require an answer at once. What is it to be? Discipline
at the hands of our friend pretty Liz? Or the rest of your life in jail?"

"Di.di.discipline." Carol drops her eyes and shoves her hands into her
jeans pockets.

I'm struck at the similarity in speech patterns between Carol at this
moment, and Andrew for probably since he could talk.

A few moments pass in silence, Miss Grace amused at Carol's obvious
discomfort. Susie precedes Andrew and announces him. Andrew is wearing
his usual Speedo shorts and white shirt. He instantly moves to stand
directly in front of his mother.

"Where are your cufflinks, Andrew?"

"I.I.I for.for..got them, Moth.Mother."

"So far you have earned thirty. Show me your penis, Andrew." Andrew
instantly lowers the front of his shorts. His penis is an angry red,
and swelling.

"Why is your penis so red, Andrew?"

"I.I.I.don't.don't know, Moth.Mother."

"You have just earned 30 more for lying." Andrew's penis is fully
stiff, now. "Show me your asshole, Andrew." Instantly Andrew turns, bends
over, pushes the back of the shorts down and reaches back to spread his
cheeks. He is bleeding slightly, but most noticeable is that it is
gaping open.

"What happened to your asshole, Andrew?"

Andrew stands and points to Carol. "She.she.did it."

"And the truth about your red penis?"

"That.that.too."

Miss Grace turns towards a bright red, squirming Carol. "I thought as
much. Carol, you will also receive 60, and then an additional number at
pretty Liz's discretion. Any questions?"

"What.what will I tell my p.parents?" Carol knows the effect of 60 of
anything. She has delivered that many spanks to Andrew on numerous
occasions.

"My suggestion would be for you to have your parents call me for an
explanation. I'll be happy to explain your soon to be very sore
buttocks and thighs to them. I assume they have a computer? I can even
send them
video of just what it was that made me so very angry. Failing that, I can't
imagine."

Carol starts wailing anew. What WILL she tell her parents, or the
girls in the gym, or her cheerleading coach, or, or, or...

"Susie, please fetch the paddle for Liz, and perhaps give her a few
pointers."

I spoke up. "Miss Grace, do you mean "totally" at my discretion?" I was
somewhat angry with Carol, but knowing the 60 were to be with the
paddle, I didn't want to kill her. And anyway, I have been admiring her
bottom
for weeks now, and wanted a more intimate experience with it.

"Of course, pretty Liz. Whatever you decide. Oh, and Carol? Did my son
get his treatment today?" Carol pales. I'm betting she forgot, and no way
could she lie. Miss Grace needed only to re-wind today's recording.

"No, Ms. Lauren." Actually what happened was that she is too rattled to
remember. I witnessed it myself, though it was Lane who did it, while
Carol was in the throes of orgasm.

Miss Grace turns to Andrew. "Is that true?" Andrew mutely shakes his
head "no". "How very interesting. One of you is not telling me the truth.
Liz, can you shed some light on this little mystery?"

I recognize this for exactly what it is. A test of loyalty. Miss Grace
knows the answer, and Miss Grace knows that I know the answer. Can I condemn
Carol to 30 more with a paddle? Do I dare lie, myself, to Miss Grace? Andrew
is looking to me. If I lie, can I condemn Andrew to 30 more after what I
have already seen him go through today? And an additional "treatment"?
Lastly, if I lie, I am condemning myself to 30 more, which I would
gladly take,
but at what price of the love and trust of Miss Grace? Susie, Carol, Andrew
and Miss Grace are looking at me expectantly. Carol and Andrew anxiously,
Susie and Miss Grace with bemused curiosity. I decide to chicken out, and
take my chances with Miss Grace.

"Andrew got his treatment today, Miss Grace, but I can't be absolutely
sure if Carol was aware of it."

Miss Grace and Susie laugh with glee. Andrew and Carol look vastly
relieved. I guess I pass.

Miss Grace stops laughing long enough to say to Susie, "Remind me to
get a "book" for my oh so very pretty Liz." She comes to me and gives me a
wonderful kiss. Susie does the same.

Then it's all "business" again. Susie has handed me a paddle, like
nothing I have ever seen before. Maybe a total of 2 and a half feet long,
somewhat heavy, but not too much. It is smoothly polished, and appears
very well
used. The handle has a black sponge like stuff on it making it very
comfortable to hold. Most curious to me is that it has holes drilled
all over the "business" end. Susie and I whisper together, leaving Carol to
stand in nervous anticipation.

Miss Grace has had her son remove all his clothing, and is speaking
with him a few yards away. She is bending slightly, her robe fallen
open, her
breasts fully exposed to everyone in the room. Andrew is stiff, his eyes
on the
floor, but he lifts his head to answer a question. His eyes never going
higher than Miss Grace's breasts.

Susie walks with me to the sideboard. On it there is a bunch of weird
looking stuff. I recognize the leather strap thing that Susie wore
earlier. "That is what Madam calls a "device", and these are the
"attachments."
She is pointing to those penis looking things, some smaller some larger,
and one is absolutely HUGE. With a shudder I imagine that thing in my bottom
hole. I think.no, I KNOW, it would kill me. I recognize handcuffs from
TV shows
and movies, but I'm puzzled by the assortment of ropes and chains. "If
Madam had decided to give Miss Carol as many as 90, one option is to
have her
hanging upside down, to prevent her from fainting from the pain." I tell
Susie
that I want to use my "discretion" to spank Carol, over my knee.
"Interesting choice," Susie smiles. "She does have a very pretty bottom."

Andrew is now in "position." Miss Grace has a thin, cut off fishing
pole looking thing and is walking around him, saying, "Carol did quite a
thorough job, didn't she?" Andrew nods. Miss Grace traces her finger
from the
center of his narrow chest to his armpit. "This area is untouched. Shall we
start here, Andrew?" He closes his eyes tightly and nods. Miss Grace holds a
handful of Andrew's hair in her left hand, and her right arm whips down
a dozen or so times. It looks as though she is aiming at his tiny nipple.
Then she pauses.

Susie assures me that she will make sure Carol stays in place for me.
If needed, she will hold Carol's arms, or legs, or use the "restraints." I
had kinda been wondering about that. Thinking of Carol in "position" and
holding it is laughable.

Susie and I are definitely in sync. She is standing in front of Carol,
her hands on Carol's shoulders. I kneel behind her and reach around to
unbutton her jeans, then slowly take her zipper down. Susie is holding
Carol's
gaze. I grab some denim at the side of each of her knees, and start to
gently
tug. Susie, her eyes never leaving Carol's, gently takes hold of Carol's
hands and place them behind her head.

"You are being a very good boy, Andrew," we hear. Miss Grace is once
again circling Andrew slowly, tapping her weapon in her palm. Andrew's chest
has elongated "ex's" with the center of each on his left nipple. "Now,
Andrew. You know you need to try to control yourself," she says tapping his
erect penis. Andrew winces. It begins to go down. Miss Grace traces the back
of his knees with her stick. "I'm surprised your friend Carol missed right
here, Andrew. Are you ready to continue?" Eyes still tightly closed,
after a brief moment, Andrew nods.

Miss Grace again grabs a handful of hair, and again with blinding
speed strikes the back of Andrew's knees another dozen times.

Carol's bottom comes slowly into view. No panties. I am inches away.
The tiny blonde hairs, the dimples. "Carol, I am going to take you over my
knee and spank your bare bottom. How long or how many will depend on how you
behave."

"Liz, please. I'm sorry I got you in trouble. I'll never do it again, I
swear to God."

Carol's jeans are half way down her gorgeous bottom, I can't resist
giving her dimples a soft kiss. Another tug and Carol's jeans pool at her
knees.

Andrew's knee fails him and he starts to collapse. The only thing
keeping him upright is Miss Grace's hand in his hair. She barely breaks
rhythm.
Another dozen or so on the back of his other knee. She stops and
releases her grip on his hair. Without moving his hands from the back of his
head, he collapses in a heap. "Only fifteen more, Andrew, and you were
doing so
well. Of course I must add ten." Andrew nods. He gets slowly back to his
feet.

I stand to take a seat on the straight backed chair. Susie leads Carol
over, her feet hobbled by the jeans. (I will enjoy seeing you crawl to me
pretty Liz) I take her wrist and pull her across my lap. (Assume the
position,
Liz) I arrange her just so, legs slightly parted so I enjoy a view of her
sex. ("position" means feet are to be spread) I repeat to her that how she
behaves will determine the number of spanks. (make me proud of you,
pretty Liz) To begin with I lightly caress Carol's bottom. (and feel Susie's
tongue on my thigh) Then I begin to spank.

Miss Grace taps Andrew's penis again with her stick, but this time it
only stiffens more. Miss Grace brings the stick down hard, then again. "What
did I tell you about controlling yourself?" Once more she walks around
Andrew, studying him. He is such a mass of bruises and marks it's hard
to find
a place for his last 25. "How about the Bastinado?" asks Susie.

"What a clever girl, Susie. Are you busy over there yet? You know for
that I will require assistance."

Susie sees I have things well in hand. I am enthralled with the color
and the temperature changes of Carol's delicious bottom as her spanking
continues. Aside from a few grunts and quiet pleas to stop, Carol is
behaving extremely well. "No Madam." I pause, gently stroking inside
the crack of Carol's bottom, to watch.

Without warning, Miss Grace's fist slams into Andrew's tummy. Susie is
there to catch him as he doubles over in agony. She lays him down on his
back
on the floor, then straddles his chest. Miss Grace takes his ankles, lifts
his legs up and Susie takes them to her bosom.

Miss Grace takes the whippy stick and starts to whip it down onto the
soles of Andrew's feet. Having rarely seen Andrew cry, I'm surprised at the
noises he makes with each stroke. He sounds like an infant with colic and
hiccups instead of an 11 year old boy. "Susie, please give my baby boy his
bottle."

Susie gently lowers Andrew's legs and walks to the sideboard. She
selects an "attachment" and pauses to select from an assortment of glass
jars.
Miss Grace calls over, "the calendula* ointment." Susie applies a generous
coating.

Carol is starting to squirm. I tear my eyes away from that scene, and
look down. She is trying to push her bottom up to get more of my stroking. I
gladly oblige her, probing more deeply, brushing against her bottom
hole, and lower, brushing her sex. Then I turn back to watch the others.

Susie is again straddling Andrew's chest with her left arm behind his
knees. She is slowly putting the attachment into Andrew's bottom hole. It
seems like it's going in very easily. Andrew stops the hiccup noise.

"The Bastinado" continues, with Susie gently moving the attachment in
and out. Andrew is just crying now, softly.

Carol orgasms on my lap. I barely notice.

Miss Grace is finished. Susie pushes the attachment in fully, and
gently lowers his legs. "He was good, don't you think, Susie?"

"Yes, Madam, very good."

"You may reward him."

"Thank you, Madam.

Susie takes his very stiff penis in her mouth. I see her tongue
swirling around, and a few up and down movements of her head. In less than a
minute, she looks up, and with her finger catches some goo sliding down her
chin and puts it back in her mouth. I'm wondering to myself.that had the
EFFECT
of forbidden masturbation, but was no WAY forbidden masturbation. I'll
have to remember to ask later.

Carol's paddling was anti-climactic. She hated it from the first swat.
I had her bend and grab her ankles, and warned her about moving. She managed
to stay in place for the first two, but jumped up screaming after the
third. Susie put Carol's head between her thighs, and wrapped her arms
around
Carol's chest to hold her in place. I started again with much less
force, but
at a stern warning from Miss Grace that I would get Carol's 60 if I did not
do it properly, resumed at almost full strength.

At 20, Carol's knees gave way, but Susie just made adjustments and I
continued with Carol kneeling, head still between Susie's thighs.

Around 40, Carol fainted.

Miss Grace brought over smelling salts and revived her. She came to,
realized where she was and moaned, "Oh God, please.no more." Miss Grace
nodded to me and I resumed. At 53 Susie allowed her to lie flat on her
tummy. I'm pretty sure she fainted again, but continued with the last 7
anyway. Miss Grace seemed to think this sexy, as I heard her moan with
orgasm. I was unaware that she was pleasuring herself with her fingers.

Miss Grace had Susie put Carol into one of the bedrooms, and had me
call Carol's mom to say she and I had a big project to work on and could she
spend the night, please, so we could finish.

Epilogue

I'd see Carol at school, but she never spoke to me again. The following
year I heard she was dating a nerdy, quiet boy who stutters and 2 years
older than her.

Lane and I remained friends, but grew apart eventually. She would
listen to the stories of my adventures upstairs with rapt attention. I
suspect
from her dreamy look that she went and found her own "Miss Grace."

Andrew never came down again, but I was upstairs nearly every
afternoon. Miss Grace was rarely in, but Susie and I had hours of fun
bathing,
teasing, playfully slapping and making love with each other and
sometimes Andrew
in Susie's bedroom. I call her Miss Susie, she calls me Miss Liz.
Sometimes, for grins, he is Master Andrew.

Two months following that afternoon, both my parents were killed by a
drunk driver. Miss Grace used her considerable money and influence to adopt
me.

Susie and I would occasionally watch the "live" screen after the new
tenants moved in. They had a boy about 5 who was babysat after school by
a very
kinky 17 year old senior girl. But that's another story.

Susie, Andrew and I are subject to many, many punishments, but I've
pretty much described them all in this series.

I suspect one, but don't think that I will ever know for sure just what
Miss Grace's true agenda was, but I never underestimate her intelligence or
will.

I am living happily ever after.

liz

*If anyone cares, calendula is a variety of marigold with remarkable
herbal properties and makes an excellent antibiotic ointment.



100% Soft Ware !!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Frank McCoy]

Post by "" <@>
Andrew Plays With The Girls 121kb g+b, Fg, spank, cbt, ds, enema, incest

This one came through OK.

[Frank McCoy]

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Date: Tue, 18 Jan 2005 20:03:22 -0800
Andrew Plays With The Girls 121kb g+b, Fg, spank, cbt, ds, enema, incest

Came through OK.
121K, just fine.