Nurse's Orders Page 11

  ‘Yes, miss, but you have to take down my knickers, OK?’

  ‘As you please.’

  She stood up, smiling, to kick off her shoes, and quickly pushed the elasticated waist of her trousers down over her hips. Her tights came with them, down and off, to be kicked casually to one side. Turning her back to me, she put her hands behind her to lift the tail of her blouse and expose the perfect pear of her bottom, with the slightly fleshy cheeks bulging out of her minute silk panties below her tiny waist.

  ‘Spankable?’ she asked.

  ‘Beautiful, certainly. Come across my lap, then.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  She came eagerly, with none of the reluctance I’d have shown in her place. I could feel her body trembling slightly as she lay down across my legs to lift her bottom with an inviting wiggle. Bent over, her hips and bottom seemed broader still in comparison to her waist, a wonderful view which I was going to enjoy regardless.

  I let her wait for a moment, then took her gently around the waist to hold her in place across my knee. Her bottom was quivering slightly and her breathing was already becoming marked, before I had so much as begun. Remember how gently Poppy had spanked me after I’d wet myself, I began, using just the tips of my fingers, to plant little pats on her bottom. She responded with a sigh of pleasure, increasing my confidence, and I began to smack harder, still with my fingertips, and evenly, until as much of her bottom as showed around the edges of her panties had begun to flush red. She was beautiful in just panties, but I wanted to see more and it seemed a good time to take them down.

  ‘Time to go bare, then,’ I told her. ‘Stick it up.’

  She complied, raising her bottom even as I took hold of the rear pouch of her silk panties to peel them slowly off and invert them down around her thighs. Immediately I caught the scent of her sex, girl mixed with a trace of perfume.

  Her whole bottom was flushed pale pink, no more than a shade darker than the unblemished skin of her thighs and back. She had no panty line; her skin was darker than mine and wonderfully smooth, like alabaster, the result of plenty of pampering. I began to slap her again, more firmly still. The sight of her bare and the feel of her skin was starting to get to me, also her scent, which was growing slowly stronger as the spanking aroused her.

  I was watching the clock on her stereo as I spanked, and drew it out for a full ten minutes before stopping. By then her breathing was deep and even and her legs were wide, stretching her panties taut between her thighs. By moving a little I could see her sex, which was beginning to flower, the outer lips puffy and a little open, white fluid trickling down between the inner from her vagina, her clitoris on clear show.

  ‘Warm?’ I asked.

  ‘Beautifully, thank you. You are good, Gabby. Men always have to rush it. Even Percy doesn’t take that long to get me warmed up. I want more, though, and I want to come while you spank me and tell me what a bad girl I am. Use my hairbrush.’

  It was on the table, which didn’t surprise me, as she had been angling for her spanking from the moment I stepped through the door. I took it and gave her a gentle pat on the crest of one cheek. She sighed and wiggled, showing off her bottom-hole to me. I smacked her again, harder, and lifted my leg to bring her bottom up and make myself more comfortable. As I shifted position, the bruises on my thighs twinged and I laid in harder still.

  She gave a little squeal but kept her bottom high, making no effort to escape as I began to spank her properly to set her cheeks bouncing and quivering, with the smooth skin beginning to roughen as goose-pimples appeared. She began to kick, her thighs moving to stretch her lowered panties as taut as they would go.

  ‘Panties off, I think,’ I told her.

  ‘Yes, please, and let me come.’

  ‘Not yet.’

  I stuck my thumb into her lowered panties and tugged them down and off one ankle, leaving them hanging from the other. Immediately her thighs came wide to show off the full glory of her moist, ready sex. I touched, stroking the underside of her pubic mound, her swollen sex-lips, her vulva, at which she moaned.

  ‘Please, now?’ she said. ‘While you spank me.’

  ‘No, not until I’m done with you. Then you can do it on the floor in front of me.’

  ‘Oh…’

  Her complaint broke off as I smacked the hairbrush hard down on her bottom. She squeaked, but quickly pushed it up to give another of her inviting little wriggles. I began to spank her again, harder still, holding her tightly until her pleased little noises turned to gasps and hisses of pain. Her buttocks were reddening well and she was going to be bruised, if nothing like as badly as I was.

  It was impossible not to enjoy it, with her beautiful bottom writhing in front of me and the smell of her sex strong in my nose. I was telling myself it was not the pain I was giving her that was exciting me, but it was hard to be sure, and there was more than a little guilt building up in me.

  Not that it stopped me. I spanked until her whole bottom was a glowing red ball, with darker marks in places where the tip of the hairbrush had caught her. By then her cries were becoming truly pained and she had started to snivel, so I stopped before she could burst into tears and ruin my pleasure in her submission.

  ‘You could do more,’ she panted, ‘if you let me frig.’

  ‘Be quiet. I said to do it on the floor. Now hold still.’

  I tightened my grip on her waist so that I could reach out for my bag. I was sure I had what I wanted in it, and sure enough, it was there, tiger balm.

  ‘What are doing?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m going to soothe you,’ I told her, ‘by rubbing oil into your bottom, something to relieve the ache.

  ‘Mm, yes, please.’

  Her bottom rose, spreading her cheeks yet wider, her cleft making a deep, smooth valley, with the wet entrance to her sex plainly visible and her bottom-hole twitching slightly. I unscrewed the tiger balm, pushing back my instinctive pang of guilt, and carefully poured a little on to the crest of each hot, roughened buttock. She sighed at the feel of it and gave another little wriggle.

  I began to massage the oil in her bottom, two-handed, using slow, circular motions to cover the smacked area of her cheeks, as Poppy had done for me. Her immediate reaction was a contented sigh, and I let my oily thumbs slide down into her crease, coating the sides where her flesh was still pale but missing her anus.

  ‘That’s warm,’ she said.

  ‘It should be, it’s tiger balm. Just relax.’

  Her cheeks twitched beneath my fingers as I rubbed a new circle on, this time allowing one oily thumb tip to brush her anus. She made an odd little noise, pained, and suddenly looked round.

  ‘Ow! That’s getting hot.’

  ‘Good. Time for you to come, then. On the floor.’

  She crawled off hastily to squat down on the floor, her bottom pushed out towards me with her sex and anus showing. Her hand went back to her sex so that I could see her busy fingers from behind, moving rhythmically in among the fleshy folds of her vulva. Her spare hand went behind, squeezing her bottom, then the other.

  ‘Ow! My bottom’s burning! Gabrielle!’

  She was clutching at her cheeks, her face moving through a whole flurry of emotions.

  ‘You had better masturbate, then.’

  ‘Bitch! Oh, Jesus, OK.’

  She began to rub again, her bottom now twitching, her anus too. Her hand had been on her bottom, and moments after she had begun to masturbate she was gasping, but still rubbing. It was beginning to get frantic, her bottom wobbling behind her, her rounded, glossy cheeks both quivering, her anus pulsing.

  Suddenly she snatched at the hairbrush to take it behind her and eased the long handle into her vagina, as deep as it would go. Reaching back once more, her fingers pushed in between her bottom-cheeks, burrowing down to find her anus and push in. She squatted down low to keep the brush up her hole. I could see it, the handle ringed with wet pink flesh, and her anus, the tight little ring glistening pink as she
eased her finger in and out. Her breathing was growing faster and her gasps more urgent and more pained.

  She screamed in an uncontrolled blend of pain and ecstasy as she came, her muscles jumping and pulsing, the one finger jabbing in and out of her now mushy bottom-hole, the others clutching and slapping at her sex. It was intense but short. Even before her muscles had untensed she was climbing unsteadily to her feet to run for the bathroom. I heard the gush of the shower as I reached out for my champagne glass.

  Natasha spent quite a while in the bathroom, and came back nude and already dry with a towel wrapped around her head. She was grinning, and took a swallow of her champagne before addressing me.

  ‘That was beautiful. Thanks, Gabby, I knew you’d go for it. Am I forgiven?’

  ‘If you mean does that compensate for the state of my thighs, the answer is no.’

  ‘Whoops! More spankings for me then? Oh, dear.’

  ‘No amount of spankings will compensate, Natasha. You enjoy it too much, and I could not justify beating you with the same severity Anna Vale used on me. Instead, you might try making an honest effort to find me a nanny.’

  ‘I will. I promise. Now let me make you come, and don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy doing that.’

  ‘Your bottom is truly glorious, Natasha, and yes, seeing you bare, and your reaction, has aroused me. The actual spanking, maybe…’

  ‘Oh, what nonsense! Come on, dominate me. Sit on my face and make me lick your bumhole, that’s rude.’

  ‘I do not see why. But yes, it would be nice.’

  ‘It’s rude for me. On come on, I mean, what could possibly be more humiliating than being made to lick another girl’s bottom-hole? Well, being made to lick a man’s, I suppose, but still.’

  ‘Anilingus is a beautiful, shared experience.’

  ‘Having a big, fat bottom stuffed in your face and being made to lick the hole?’

  ‘Yes, although I would not have phrased it like that.’

  ‘OK, then, have your beautiful, shared experience, just get your bottom in my face.’

  She had gone to her knees and lay back as she spoke, face up on the carpet. I stood to ease up my skirt and push my tights and panties down, then off. Naked from the waist down, I straddled her head and sank into a squat with my bottom to her face. She kissed me, one cheek then the other, before her tongue traced a slow line up the crease of my bottom. I sank lower, her tongue found my anus, and she was licking.

  I shut my eyes, concentrating completely on the delicious feeling of having my bottom-hole licked. She was eager too, probing my ring and lapping at me with a wonderful urgency, as if she couldn’t get enough of my taste and the feel of my anus against her tongue. However much it humiliated her, she was in no hurry, and nor was I. I began to stroke my breasts through my blouse, letting my pleasure rise slowly, and keeping firmly away from my sex until I could bear it no more.

  Her tongue was well up my bottom, probing and twisting in my wet, open hole as I began to masturbate, rubbing myself gently, reaching down to slip two fingers into my vagina, rubbing again, faster and harder, feeling my orgasm rise, and burst. I held the picture of Natasha’s face as I came, so delicate, so beautiful, and given over to my pleasure, her tongue well up my bottom in what to her was a gesture of utter surrender.

  * * *

  Monty Hartle was eventually released with a caution subject to attending four therapy sessions. I had agreed to submit a report on his progress to the police, which was going to require some highly creative writing. It also made me determined to do my best to wean him away from his habit. The first appointment was on the Thursday afternoon, for which he turned up early, beaming as he pushed into my clinic.

  ‘Hi, Gabby, nice one, yeah?’ he greeted me. ‘Cool, yeah? I get to bonk you on police time!’

  ‘No, you do not. For the next hour, this will be on a strictly professional basis. First, we need to discuss your obsession with female underwear. You may tell me the history behind it.’

  ‘Oh…All right, as it’s you.’

  ‘Good. Sit down. Relax.’

  He sat, and I lowered myself gingerly into the chair opposite. Monty’s eyebrows raised a fraction.

  ‘Not still bruised, are you?’ he demanded. ‘I know I whacked you, but…’

  ‘Never mind the state of my bottom. Tell me about your obsession, from the beginning.’

  ‘From the beginning? Where do I start? I mean, all blokes are into knickers, aren’t they? They hide what you most want to get at, don’t they? They look gorgeous too, wrapped around some little darling’s nice tight arse, or even holding in a big, wobbly bottom. And the smell of fresh cunt…something else.’

  ‘So you identify panties with female sexuality?’

  ‘Yeah. Who doesn’t? I mean, any bloke who’s into cunt is going to be into panties. Stands to reason.’

  ‘Perhaps, but very few steal them from washing lines. When did you start?’

  ‘October the twenty-ninth, nineteen ninety-one.’

  ‘That is very exact.’

  ‘I’m an exact kind of bloke. You need to be to handle computers.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘Sure. It was at school, right, this girl called Patsy. She was gorgeous, legs like yours, but a fatter arse, and tits like fucking footballs. She knew it too, flirting all the time, and wearing these skirts like you would not believe. She only had to bend forwards a few inches and you’d see her panties. Blokes used to throw pound coins on the ground so she’d bend down to pick them up. She’d do it too, the little tart, right down, with that gorgeous bum just straining those little panties out…It gives me a hard-on just thinking about it now. Can I wank?’

  ‘No. Go on.’

  ‘Spoilsport. Anyway, she was good, yeah, but she wouldn’t put out for much, not full sex anyway. Some guys said they’d had her, but it was bullshit, although I think this bloke Gary did squeeze a blow-job out of her once.’

  ‘And yourself?’

  ‘What? Fat kid Monty, not a fucking chance!’

  ‘So you resented her?’

  ‘Yeah, sure I did, why not? She used to make this really big deal out of not wanting me around. Like when the boys were trying to make her show her tits one time, she agreed, but only on the condition I go away.’

  ‘Hurtful, clearly, and this was why you stole her panties?’

  ‘Partly. More it was for a laugh. It was before the tit-show anyway. A mate dared me to go into the girls’ changing room and nick something. I did it, and her locker was open, with the panties she’d been wearing right on top. I took them. She had to go home in her gym kit.’

  ‘It affected her, then? Her flirting did not extend to showing herself bare?’

  ‘Yeah, it affected her. She was furious. She knew it was me, too, because my idiot mate told her. I denied it and I’d hidden the panties well, but she knew.’

  ‘I see. Has it occurred to you that she excluded you from the display of her breasts precisely because you had stolen her panties?’

  He shrugged. I went on.

  ‘It seems to me that she may have resented you not so much for your weight, as because you had infringed the sexual boundaries she had drawn for herself. To show her breasts retained her own control, so did sucking a boy’s penis, so long as it was on her terms. What you did, did not.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘So your motive was resentment combined with a lack of respect for her personal boundaries?’

  ‘Yeah, because she was a bitch to me.’

  ‘Am I a bitch to you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yet you clearly enjoy breaking my personal boundaries, also Natasha’s.’

  Again he shrugged.

  ‘And there is no question that it arouses you. I suspect this is the root cause of your need to steal women’s panties, so that they know something intimate has been taken. Otherwise, why not simply purchase what you want?’

  ‘That would be no fun at all. There’s a thrill in
stealing them. You’ve got to know the girl’s been in them, know her cunt’s been up against the crotch.’

  ‘Yet you steal clean pairs?’

  ‘Dirty pairs are harder to come by.’

  ‘I see. And what did you do with Patsy’s panties?’

  ‘The normal. Wanked in them a few times.’

  ‘You always do this?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘So there is a routine?’

  ‘Yeah. I get a pair, find somewhere quiet and toss off with them. That’s half the fun.’

  ‘You then wash them, label them and add them to your collection?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And you feel the need for new pairs?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. Half the fun’s in getting them.’

  ‘I see, and after the incident at school?’

  ‘I didn’t do it for ages after that, over a year. The next time was at a mate’s. He had a really cute sister, and she’d sometimes walk around in just a top and knickers, like she didn’t care. I thought she was coming on to me and I asked her out. She reacted like I’d suggested murdering her mother. So I pinched a pair of her panties.’

  ‘Rejection again.’

  ‘Revenge, I prefer. She was really snooty with me and she didn’t have to be. I used to like thinking how cross she’d be if she knew I was using a pair of her knickers to wank in. After that I decided there were other girls who deserved the same. I stuck to my mates’ sisters at first, because I could always get in the girls’ bedrooms or nick something out of the laundry basket. I don’t think any of them even noticed. Then there was this really stuck-up piece, at the place I worked immediately after school in my year off. She was the manageress, and she reckoned she was so fucking superior. Her boyfriend was a real jerk too, the worst. I hated them, but there was nothing I could do. Only I knew where they lived. So I sneaked into their garden one night, and pinched this pair of real fancy French knickers, real silk with a wide trim. Jerking off in them after she’d given me a hard time at work was just great.’

  ‘These were all girls you knew?’

  ‘Yeah. I only really got into it properly after uni, when I got my own flat. That’s when I started collecting properly, but I’m not that bad, not really.’