Uniform Doll Page 12

  I focussed my eyes on her bottom, thinking of how I’d punished her, making her dress up in her school uniform and spanking her, until she’d come on my leg. It had been lovely, and I wanted more, but most of all I wanted it to be me, laid bare over the knee of the beautiful girl who was licking my pussy so sweetly.

  ‘Come on the bed,’ I said, pulling at her arm.

  She came, rising with a sticky smile and took my hand. I lay down on the bed, opening my arms for her as she climbed on top, head to toe, and settled her bottom into my face as her own found my pussy. We started to lick, feeding on each other’s pussies, lapping and probing as I felt the hot cheeks of her bottom. Her hands curved under my bum, squeezing my cheeks.

  ‘Touch my hole,’ I begged. ‘Do anything you like.’

  Her fingers found my pussy, two slipping inside.

  ‘My bumhole too,’ I urged, ‘please, Zoe, darling.’

  ‘Dirty bitch,’ she said and a third finger touched me, tickling the little damp crevice of my anus.

  I moaned, licking hard at her, my ecstasy rising. She responded, her fingers pushing well up my pussy and just a tiny bit deeper into my anus. I clutched her bottom, pulling her cheeks wide, lapping at her, revelling in her taste, my fingers probing at her. I touched her bumhole, and she tensed, briefly, but went loose.

  ‘Do it, then,’ she gasped, pulling up from my pussy. ‘You want to, don’t you?’

  My finger went into her pussy, pulling out wet with juice. Again I touched her bumhole, watching entranced as the little ring slowly gave, opening to the pressure. I was sure she would be a virgin, and pushed gently, in, and out again, opening her. She began to sigh, then to make her little purring noises again. I probed deeper, past her ring, into the hot, slimy cavity of her rectum.

  ‘Dirty bitch,’ she repeated, ‘dirty, dirty bitch.’

  ‘I’m going to lick it,’ I moaned. ‘I’m going to stick my finger right up, then put it in my mouth and lick it. I want to taste you, Zoe, while I make you come . . .’

  I’d pushed my finger right up her bottom as I spoke, as far as it would go, pushing the little hole in. It was so hot up her, and so tight, and as I fingered her bum she tightened the hole, squeezing her ring.

  ‘Do it,’ she moaned, ‘just do it, you dirty little bitch, Jade, you dirty, bum-licking bitch . . . Ah!’

  She had gasped as my finger popped out of her bumhole. I put it in my mouth, straight in, sucking on it, tasting the rich, dirty flavour as my eyes feasted on the little hole I’d just been up. Only when my finger was thoroughly clean did I pull it out of my mouth and take hold of her bottom.

  ‘I’ve done it, Zoe,’ I panted. ‘I’ve sucked my dirty finger. Now sit up, in my face, and let me do you.’

  She went, riding my face, her beautiful bottom settling onto my head, my mouth wide on her pussy, my nose pressed to her wet hole. I began to lick and she giggled, squirming herself onto me to make my nose move in her anus.

  ‘Now I know what they mean by brown nosing!’ she giggled. ‘Go on, then, make me come, Jade, in your face! This’ll teach you to smack my bottom!’

  She wiggled again, laughing as she spread her buttocks across my face, to get my nose just that little bit further up her bum. It was well up too, so far that I could feel the little ring splayed out on my nose tip, tightening as the first twinges of her climax began. She gasped, aloud.

  ‘I’m nearly there,’ she sighed, ‘just lick, yes, like that. Come on, bitch, lick me, lick me out with your nose up my bumhole, oh, you dirty, little fucking bitch!’

  She really screamed out the last word, coming full in my face, her bottom squirming, her anus tightening, her pussy too, her buttocks locking on my head, in one long, drawn-out climax. Her bum was pressed hard to my face, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe, until she went suddenly forwards, burying her face in my pussy. Her school skirt fell down at that instant, covering my face in green tartan, with that and the pert curve of her bottom all I could see.

  I lay back, my eyes fixed on the wet, juicy pussy I’d just licked, and on her open bumhole. She was licking me, right on my clitty, and I was going to come, at any second. My hands went to my boobs, feeling them through the cotton of my top, their plump curves pressed out under her tummy. They felt huge, as always when I’m really aroused, and as I started to come, the most wonderful fantasy hit me.

  I’d be at Zoe’s school, a girl with ridiculously large boobs, a girl who got picked on, teased, bullied. They’d have set on me, her and her friends, teased me until I’d lost my temper. I’d have tried to smack her, but they’d just have laughed. They’d grab me, tugging at my clothes, my hair. I’d fight, pathetically badly, and they’d grow bolder, throwing me on the ground, pulling down my big white knickers. Soon I’d be lying shivering on the ground, held down, with my fat boobs out and my legs held up to show off my equally fat bottom and pussy. Zoe would come to me, to squat over my head, so that I could see up her little tartan skirt. She’d pull off her panties, under her skirt, and toss them aside. She’d squat down, slowly, to the sound of the others’ laughter as she lowered her pert, perfect bottom into my face. She’d reach back, spreading her bottom-cheeks, in front of all of them, showing off her bumhole, wrinkly and brown between her sweet cheeks, and I’d be forced to kiss it . . .

  I did, pulling my head up at the exact moment I came, to plant a firm, wet kiss on Zoe’s anus, before slumping back, writhing in the ecstasy of my orgasm, with the filthy, humiliating fantasy through my head, over and over. I screamed too, really loud, never for a moment thinking where I was.

  We clung together for a moment, content, Zoe making her odd little purring noise, me with my head thrown back. I kissed her bottom one last time, to say thank you, and she rolled off, giggling. The computer was suddenly visible, and it was only then that I realised our entire dirty little sixty-nine had been captured on video. We played it back, giggling together at what we’d done, with our arms around each others backs.

  ‘I was right,’ she said emphatically as the last shot appeared, ‘you really are a dirty bitch!’

  ‘Do you always get so rude when you’re coming?’ I demanded.

  ‘Too many dirty stories off the net, I’m afraid,’ she laughed. ‘I love all that. It scares the boys too.’

  ‘I’ll bet it does.’

  She began to undress, casually, peeling off her clothes. I watched, until she was nude, with the precious uniform a pile of cotton on the floor.

  ‘Could I borrow that?’ I asked.

  ‘My uniform?’

  ‘Yeah. The girl I was telling you about, Sam, would just love to have me in it.’

  ‘Is she your girlfriend?’

  ‘Not really, no, but I’ve got a date with her next week.’

  ‘Go ahead, just stick it in a plastic bag so Mum and Dad don’t see it.’

  ‘Thanks, Zoe.’

  After that it was simple, laughably simple. Zoe changed into casual clothes, sticking her bra and panties into the laundry basket. I asked if she’d mind making a coffee. As soon as she was out of the door I was at the computer. It took moments to send myself and Uncle Rupert the images of me spanking her, and as the message disappeared into cyberspace I had a wonderful vision of him downloading them in front of Sarah. That done, I retrieved Zoe’s bra and panties and stuck them in with the uniform. When she came back with the coffee I was sitting innocently at her computer.

  Six

  Zoe and I had swapped numbers, and I’d been fighting down my guilt as I kissed her goodbye. Not that it was too hard, because I was well pleased with myself. On the way back to my flat I retrieved my mail, with the gorgeous pictures and no less than five replies to my ads. Three were from men, including some foreign guy who wanted to keep me in a cell and feed me on his spunk. The fourth was just meaningless drivel, and the fifth from Andrea, hoping I’d recovered and that I’d like to play again soon. I replied to Andrea and deleted the rest.

  What I wanted to do most of all was go and
show Zoe’s school uniform off to Uncle Rupert. I couldn’t, not with Sarah there, which made for a very frustrating Saturday night. I did at least wash and iron the uniform, ready for its place in the collection. It was a good one, maybe the best. After all, Zoe’s sixth-form college was small, so it was rare, even if schoolgirls as such aren’t. It was traditional too, and formal, although it didn’t score too highly on the risk front. More importantly, when it comes to spanking fantasies, there is no image so popular as the British schoolgirl. In fact, Rupert’s collection of spanking literature probably contained more images and stories with schoolgirls in them than all the others put together. The collection would simply not have been complete without a schoolgirl’s uniform, and I had got it. Even more importantly, Rupert was very unlikely to have succeeded himself.

  I waited until after ten on the Sunday night before phoning him, certain that by then he would have put Sarah on her train. Sure enough, he was there, alone, and full of questions about the mysterious picture that had arrived showing me with a genuine schoolgirl across my knee. I explained, listening to his little exclamations of pleasure and envy with growing delight. In the end he said he would come over and collect me, unable to wait to see the uniform and get it onto his mannequin.

  An hour later I was there, admiring the finished product, complete with photograph. He was jealous, but pleased too, while I was thoroughly happy. Despite that, there was a change in the atmosphere between us, which I was painfully aware of. He seemed a tiny bit reserved, or at least uncertain, and as we swapped stories he kept his hand firmly away from his crotch. That wasn’t good enough, not when the description of me spanking Zoe should have been enough to have him wrestling with his fly. He knew he could take it out in front of me, and I wanted him to do it, Sarah or no Sarah.

  ‘Are you going to wank, or not?’ I demanded, breaking off.

  ‘I . . . I’m not –’ he began.

  ‘Don’t spoil it, Rupert,’ I broke in. ‘I know you and Sarah are in love, but don’t spoil it for me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t, Jade,’ he said quickly. ‘You know that.’

  ‘Prove it to me, then; get your cock out. I’ll wank it for you. No, I’ll suck you, willingly. I’ll do it properly, on my knees in front of you, with everything showing. I remember you saying that’s how a girl ought to suck a man’s cock, bare and kneeling.’

  He swallowed, looking ashamed for one moment before nodding acquiescence. I stood, my hands going to the button of my jeans, looking into his eyes for the slightest spark of doubt. All I got was lust, his eyes glued to my body. I popped the button, pushed them down, knickers too, baring myself to him. My top followed, pulled high over my boobs, and my bra, so that I was showing, from chest to knees, without a stitch.

  His cock was out, lying pale and flaccid on his lap, ready for my mouth. I came close, feeling a strong sense of reconciliation as I got down on my knees, as if by the act of sucking his cock I was reaffirming the strength of our relationship. He might be in love with Sarah, but that didn’t mean he was going to reject our friendship. He was letting me perform a truly intimate act with him, so I could be sure of that.

  The time before I’d just let him stick it in, fucking my head more than having his cock sucked. This time was different, very much me attending to his cock, and for me a very submissive act. After all, I was near nude, and on my knees, while he was fully dressed save for his cock and balls.

  I suppose Sarah had drained him, because it took ages to get him erect, sucking and licking at his cock, his balls too, and using my hands as well to tickle his sack and masturbate him into my mouth. He did respond, in the end, but only after taking a break so that he could move a squat mirror into a position that let him admire my bare bum as I sucked him.

  That worked, with his eyes glued to the rude reflection in the mirror as I sucked on him, his cock now growing, and quickly reaching full erection. Soon he was stroking my hair, his breathing getting faster, until at last he came, full in my mouth. I swallowed it, gagging on the disgusting, slimy taste, but knowing it was what girls were expected to do, what Sarah did, and so what I ought to do to.

  The first thing I got at work on Monday morning was Sam demanding that we fix a date, on the Friday. I agreed, a little awed by her urgency to have me, but flattered too. She also demanded to know if I’d been spanked over the weekend, and to inspect my bottom. I was due on, and a bit tense, so I tried to refuse, but she made me anyway. Fortunately Zoe hadn’t marked me, while the older bruising was fading fast. Sam had a quick feel and told me to put it away, declaring that I’d be ready for Friday.

  So I knew I was going to get a whacking, all week. I love that, the awful sense of apprehension when I know I’m going to be punished. The best is when I know exactly when and exactly what, so that I can work myself up into a real state. This was nearly as bad because, although there was no formal punishment scheduled for me, I knew Sam would be hard.

  I could expect the tawse or perhaps a whip, probably while in bondage and probably with an audience to gloat over my exposure and pain. After the last occasion it was possible that she would tickle me, maybe even make me wet myself again, which was enough to set my jaw shaking every time I thought about it. What I was sure of was that she’d want me naked, or near naked, easily available and submissive.

  So I took an extended lunch on the Thursday, shopping in Camden. I managed to get hold of a second-hand waspie corset in black leather, complete with D-rings. Having got that, it was impossible to resist some heavy-duty wrist cuffs, which more or less matched my doggie collar. Both were perfect, and on the Friday I hurried home to change in an absolute lather of expectation.

  Bathed, powdered and scented, I put myself into my choice of gear. The corset was wonderful, taking my waist down to twenty inches, which I can only ever do just after my period. It made my boobs and bum look simply huge, exaggerated, with all of the helpless femininity I knew Sam liked. Thigh boots added to it, along with the wrist cuffs, collar and lead, leaving me covered in shiny black leather except for the bits she would want to get at. I felt vulnerable, female and above all sexual, which is me all through, so much so that I couldn’t bear to spoil the effect with a bra. I even thought twice about panties, but there’s feeling vulnerable and there’s feeling unsafe, so I put on a tiny pair of black ones, telling myself I could take them off if I needed to.

  I went out like that, in fetish gear, and topless under my coat, which added a delicious touch of naughtiness. When I met Sam I gave her a flash, in the street, and was pleased to see her eyebrows go up in surprise. Not that she’d exactly underdone it herself, what with black leather trousers and bra, brilliantly polished boots, shades, a black leather cap, even a whip at her belt. I was impressed, and when she took me by my lead I just melted.

  She led me down Old Compton Street, where we’d met on the corner, to a gay men’s pub, where she seemed to know half the people and got a really friendly reception. Like Whispers, it had a back room where the harder people could play, and at every moment I was expecting to be dragged in and thoroughly humiliated in front of an audience of gay men. I was sure they’d have found it funny, even if not sexy. That would have made it worse for me, and I thought it was what Sam intended, only for her to leave after our third drink, pulling me behind her.

  Three bottles of Bud on top of the sandwich I’d snatched for tea already had me tipsy. I was enjoying being led through the streets on a lead immensely, with plenty of looks coming our way; shock, envy, disapproval, but mainly desire. Soho was busy, the streets crowded as the last of daylight gave over to the yellow glare of the lamps, with every type of person thronging the streets, and yet it was me who drew the attention. Sam seemed not to notice, as cool as ever, no more concerned than if she’d been walking a dog.

  We were going towards Whispers, and for a moment I thought she might have managed to get me back in, only for her to stride past, turning up into Wardour Street. There was a crowd of girls outside Sugar Babe’s, a
nd as we passed I caught my name, shouted out in excitement. I turned, finding Zoe hurrying across the road. Sam stopped, her dark eyes travelling slowly down Zoe’s body. Zoe kissed me, and threw Sam a nervous, admiring glance.

  ‘Jade, hi,’ she said. ‘You look . . . wow! Better than in my uniform, any day! This is . . .’

  ‘Sam,’ I supplied. ‘Sam, this is Zoe.’

  ‘Baby dyke?’ Sam asked casually.

  ‘Baby baby,’ I said. ‘She’s seventeen.’

  ‘Shh!’ Zoe hissed. ‘We’re having enough trouble as it is. The girls on the door don’t reckon my friend looks eighteen. I told her to lose the Telly Tubby top!’

  ‘Does she lick cunt?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Does she . . . does . . .?’ Zoe stammered. ‘Yeah, she does . . . she has.’

  ‘Yours?’

  ‘Yes,’ Zoe managed, her face flushing crimson in the light.

  Sam pulled at my lead, twisting it around a lamppost and clipping it off on my collar. Four quick paces took her across the road, to where a huge woman with a shaved head was standing foursquare in front of the door to Sugar Babe’s. Sam pushed through the crowd, spoke a quick word to the woman and came back.

  ‘You’re in,’ she told Zoe, ‘but if Angie wants to take you in the loos, don’t turn her down.’

  ‘Er . . . thanks,’ Zoe managed, throwing a seriously worried look at the massive Angie. ‘You coming?’

  ‘No,’ Sam answered. ‘Another time, babe.’

  She had unclipped my lead, and tugged on it, pulling me away to leave Zoe looking after us.

  ‘Couldn’t we go?’ I asked. ‘Zoe’s cool. You could have us both. Maybe her friends too.’

  ‘Another time,’ Sam answered me.

  ‘Oh, come on, Sam –’

  ‘Shut up,’ she interrupted, ‘unless you want a whipping in front of your little baby dyke friends.’

  ‘In Sugar Babe’s? Great, let’s do it!’

  ‘In the street, you slut. With men watching, and I’ll make sure your cunt gets a good airing.’