Hot company girls

All that did though was to make Gail seem more interested in me. Her fingers began to stroke me like a lover’s, at the highest and smoothest part of my leg. I didn’t dare to close my thighs, as much as I disliked what she was doing. But when her thumb tickled my clit I couldn’t stop myself from whining: “No, no!”

Gale snorted in what sounded like contempt: “Oh dear, my little Barbie doll doesn’t want Mama to play with her, hey? Well, I’ve got just the thing to beat the arguments out of you with, honeybunch. I think it’s time your ass met Mr Hairbrush.”

She was going to spank me? Nobody had ever done anything like that me, never. It couldn’t be true.

It was true, as real and substantial as the wooden hairbrush that Gale took out from underneath the bed, held up in front of my face, and then slapped down lightly on my bottom.

“OK, Philippa, I’ve got all evening, a strong arm and I guarantee your ass will wear out before this brush does. So you just let me know when you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to fuck with me, darling. I’m going to make a real woman out of you.”

“I’m not into that scene . . . ooowww!”

I’d had no idea that a brush could hurt so much from one slap. It did though and one thing was plain from the start, that Gale’s boasts about the strength of her arms were well justified.

“Oh, I just love it when Girlsimages like you play hard to get, Philippa. Now grit your teeth because here come de judge!”

It wasn’t a wild, hurried kind of a punishment. That was what I was expecting but Gale worked differently.
Hard strokes, painful strokes, but delivered with a pause between each one, and every impact on a slightly different place at a slightly different angle. She didn’t say anything either, just grunting a little with her own efforts, as though doing some kind of hard working chore, like a third world woman slapping laundry on river rocks to get it clean.

At first all I could think about was the pain, because each impact did hurt, and I cried out at each one. Then, as Gale kept on paddling my butt, there seemed to be some kind of a numbing effect which made each individual blow not so bad but had all my ass glowing as if I was standing in front of a roaring fire with my panties down.

“Oooh, Pauline, the guys are so going to enjoy watching this,” Gale cooed softly in my ear as she kept on administering the punishment.

You know how sometimes you can realize something which can turn your ideas upside down and inside out? It was like that for me right then, because I suddenly had a picture in my mind, like I was watching it on a TV screen. And what I was seeing on the screen was a bunch of men in a darkened room, and they were all watching a TV screen. Only what was on their screen was me, getting spanked, my hands bound, my ass cheeks glowing red and shivering as I wriggled around on top of Gale’s bed. The odd thing in what I was seeing on my mind’s screen was that although the guys’ faces were in the shadows, yet I could see each one of them had his hand on his exposed cock, working it urgently in his excitement as he witnessed my humiliation.

It should have been a disgusting thought. Maybe it would have been before, in Gale’s phrase “I’d met Mr Hairbrush.” But right then and there the thought of being able to turn on a bunch of men watching my spanking had me suddenly becoming as wet as a damp sponge, and if I had been in a room with a bunch of hard cocks I’d have jumped on top of the nearest one without even bothering to say “Have a nice day” to whoever owned it.

Maybe there was a change in the noises I was making which tipped Gale off about what was happening. In any case she put down the brush and slipped her fingers back between my legs and upwards, checking for what she found, then giggling.

“Philly, you are a filly after all,” was her comment. “Now let’s see if your tits are getting as turned on as the rest of you.”

She half rolled me onto my side, reached down and began fondling one of my tits again. But this time I didn’t try to stop her, and this time she could feel the taut fleshline around my nipple.

“I’ve got you now, haven’t I, Miss ‘never been fucked except on a Sunday after church’. I’ve got you just where I want you.”

Gale stood up, pulled off her negligee, dropped it on the floor and knelt down on the bed once more. Then she took hold of me again, not to fondle but to jerk on my boob as if she wanted to pull it free from the rest of me. The pain was enough to make me scream out her name.

“Oh no, not Gale anymore,” she rebuked me. “From now on, you call me Mistress. And if you’ve got any problems with that I think you’ll find I can get you to do whatever I want you to. You’ve met Mr Hairbrush, so now you can meet Mr Pants Hanger.”

Pants hanger? What was she talking about? I soon found out because that was what she took out from underneath the bed. A two dollar pants hanger with a spring clip on each end.

Gale smiled and held the clips close to my bust, adjusting the width of the hangar so that the clips were exactly aligned with the tips of my breasts. Then she took a clip in each hand, opened them and then snapped them down onto my nipples. It hurt, of course, though that was what I’d come to expect from everything that Gale did.

“You look a lot better now, Philly,” she gloated as she stared down at me. Her eyes were brighter than I remembered seeing them before and she looked as if she spreading out a winning hand on a poker table covered in bills.

Then she laughed and lifted up the hanger until my jugs were hanging from it, the tiny teeth on the clips tearing at the trapped aureoles like lobster’s claws. If Gale wanted me to make me beg for mercy … well, if that was what she wanted, she got it. Because I would have said anything to make her ease her grip on those fucking clips.

My tormentor finally relented, letting the hanger down a fraction of an inch and putting one of her heavy boots up on the side of the bed.

“OK. Philippa, how’s the company induction going so far? Having fun? Ready to meet some more friends of mine?”

“Gale, I’ll do whatever you want me to, anything at all,” I gasped out.

“Yeah, is that right? OK, then I’ll make this an introduction first and then see what happens afterwards.”

From somewhere she got two canes. “Philly, say hi to Mr and Ms Chopstick. You might think they’re canes but I’ve got a better use for them that whipping your dumb ass. If I get anymore arguments out of you, slave girl, I’m going to push one of them up your cunt and the other up your asshole, as far as they’ll go. And if you think you’re hurting now, gal, you don’t know the half of what that’ll feel like.”

“No, no, Mistress, I’ll do whatever you want me to,” I promised — loudly.

“Let’s find out, Slave.”

She sat down on the bed and stared down at my face. And then I felt her hand between my opened thighs again. No teasing this time though, no foreplay, but a blatant fingering and stroking and penetrating. I was being felt up as if I was a man’s lover but it was a female’s hand which was doing it. Again, all I could do was to close my eyes and pretend it was a man doing this to me, the most desirable man I could imagine.

Gale’s voice was a growl from the back of her throat, like a big cat growling and lashing its tail in warning of an attack: “I’m still not getting your full attention, am I, Philly?”

The canes rattled against the hangar as Gale slid them between the wires and my skin. And then she lifted up the canes and the hangar as well, making me beg for mercy again.

“Fuck me, Mistress, do anything you want with me, please!”

“Thank you, Slave, I think I’ll do just that little thing. Now let’s hear you enjoying the effort I’m putting into pleasuring your hot little snatch.”