American Blue Read online

  ‘Uh, uh, no you don’t, not now. She needs her ass to be pristine for the vids, or they won’t take her. Spank her when we get back.’

  I stopped, struggling to bring my temper under control. Hudson Staebler looked like John Wayne’s big brother and I knew from experience that he could turn me over his knee one-handed while smoking a cigar in the other. If I tried to punish Jemima I would just end up making a fool of myself and getting spanked in front of her, which would be unbearably humiliating, so I accepted a glass of brandy from Annabelle and sat down, trying desperately to think of a way out of the situation. Jemima obviously wasn’t going to back down, which left only one possible solution, at least that I could think of.

  ‘Then why don’t I come over with you?’ I suggested. ‘That way your mum won’t worry and I can put you back on a plane home before I go on to Arizona. How about that?’

  Jemima looked doubtful, and it was Hudson who answered me.

  ‘Great idea! You see, I knew it could be worked out.’

  ‘How about the team, and the vids?’ Jemima asked suspiciously. ‘I don’t want you spoiling it for me, Penny.’

  I shrugged, far from happy about the situation but unable to think of any way to stop her going ahead. That would have to wait, unless I could find some way of nipping the whole thing in the bud before they left.

  Two

  I’M NOT VERY good at scheming. I considered a whole range of possibilities: simply pinching Jemima’s passport, trying to cause an argument between her and Hudson, even kidnapping her on the eve of the flight. All of those and many more foundered on my moral qualms. However inconvenient it might be for me, I simply didn’t have the right to interfere, and I certainly didn’t want her to end up resenting me.

  I could at least work out my priorities. As I was going with Jemima I had at least postponed the family scandal, although I hated to lie to Kate. That left me with the problem of Jemima’s determination to become what amounted to a kinky porn actress. Not that I minded her being fucked with strap-on so very much, and after the way she’d behaved at Morris’s I couldn’t help but feel that a spanking or two would do her less harm than good, but I didn’t want either event being recorded for posterity.

  There was at least one piece of good news. The Tribeca Tails’ costumes included masks, so she was unlikely to be recognised in that film, although the two spanking videos she was signed up to do were another matter. If there’s one thing spankers like more than to watch a girl’s bum go pink under the slaps it’s to watch the faces she pulls in her pain and humiliation, and I couldn’t see American video makers being any different from the British disciplinarians I was used to.

  I would even have been prepared to take her place in the videos and give her the money, but I knew it was pointless. No doubt they’d take me on readily enough, but not as a substitute for Jemima. I like to think I’m in good condition, but Jemima was a lot younger than me, and with her delicate features, slender body and perfectly rounded little bottom there was no video maker on earth who’d make the exchange, even had she been willing. They were unlikely to accept the idea of putting her in a mask or wig either, because the one would mean losing her face and the other her wonderful glossy hair, which she’d cut into a smart bob that gave her a perfect gamine look.

  It was the possibility of changing her appearance that made me realise there was a way out. One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that spankers, and particularly male spankers, generally hate to think anyone has been there before them. It’s ridiculous, as most girls who like to be spanked get it as often as they want, and doubly so in a video where the girl is almost certainly a professional and getting it on a regular basis, but the fact remains that men like a girl to start with a fresh, unmarked bottom. As Hudson Staebler himself had pointed out, if Jemima turned up covered in welts and bruises the video makers were going to reject her, no matter how beautiful, while she might well be too tender to want another spanking anyway.

  The more I thought about it the more it made sense. All I had to do was get her spanked, hard enough for the marks to last at least two weeks. It was a wicked plan, but considering how assertive she was about enjoying punishment I didn’t see any moral objections. A few drinks and some excitement and the little brat would soon forget about keeping herself pristine, so the only problem was how to get it done without giving my intentions away or raising Hudson Staebler’s suspicions.

  He was staying at Morris’s and it would obviously be impossible with him around, because Jemima was supposed to ask his permission before she was punished by anybody else, especially other men. That meant doing it at home, or even Kate’s house, and I might even have to do it myself, although it would be better if I could pass the blame on to another woman, somebody who wasn’t frightened of what Hudson would do when he found out. There was only one choice, Pippa’s scary diesel-dyke girlfriend, AJ, who would not only take great delight in punishing Jemima but didn’t give a damn about Hudson Staebler. All I had to do was set it up.

  Everything went as smoothly as I could have hoped. I offered Jemima an olive branch by asking her if she’d like to come over for Sunday lunch and swim in my pool, and she accepted immediately. It was only natural to invite Pippa too. I had explained my plan to her and to AJ, who leapt at the chance of dishing out some severe CP to her girlfriend’s little sister.

  I made a production of it, with smoked salmon, roast beef and apple pie, washed down with three different wines and liqueur coffees afterwards. Jemima drank with typically teenage enthusiasm and soaked up AJ’s stories of lesbian sex with wide-eyed awe. By the time we’d finished our coffees and cleared away I could tell she was turned on and wasn’t exactly unaffected myself. Even the weather seemed to be on my side, the morning sunshine having given way to blustery showers, so that the surface of the swimming pool was marked with rain spots and tiny ripples from the wind.

  ‘I’m too full to swim anyway,’ I said. ‘Let’s just relax for a bit.’

  ‘But I’ve already got my bikini on underneath,’ Jemima protested.

  ‘So have I, but maybe it’ll brighten up later,’ Pippa remarked, feigning disappointment.

  ‘We’ll play cards,’ AJ stated, extracting a pack from the inside pocket of her leather jacket.

  ‘Good idea,’ Pippa said immediately, moving to where I’d set out four chairs around a glass-topped table.

  ‘I don’t have much money,’ Jemima said doubtfully, ‘unless you could lend me some, Auntie Penny?’

  ‘We don’t play for money,’ AJ answered her. ‘We play for forfeits. Get a cane, Miss Muffet.’

  A little shiver ran through me at the use of her play name for me and also at the prospect of the cane, but it must have been mild to the visible shock of fear and excitement that crossed Jemima’s face.

  ‘A cane?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure,’ AJ explained. ‘We have chips, and whoever goes bust first has to take six from the winner, or whatever. You’re not going to chicken out, are you?’

  ‘No, no,’ Jemima said hastily. ‘I just haven’t been caned before, that’s all.’

  ‘There’s always a first time,’ AJ answered, ‘and anyway, you might not lose.’

  ‘Let’s play the first round for a spanking,’ I suggested.

  AJ shrugged.

  ‘OK, if baby can’t take it.’

  ‘I can,’ Jemima insisted.

  ‘At least let’s have a warm-up,’ I insisted, determined not to scare Jemima away. ‘Hang on.’

  There was a knot in my stomach as I went for the cane and the chips. I knew full well that Jemima would lose, because AJ could handle a pack of cards as if she was a professional sharp, but for the look of the thing, and for fun, she was bound to make sure somebody else went down first. That was likely to be me, which meant knickers down and either a spanking or six of the best in front of the girls, a deeply humiliating prospect.

  I kept my implements in a box under a pile of back issues of the Journal of Gen
etics, so it took me a while to fetch the cane, along with some red and blue glass gems I’d been given at Christmas to use as chips. By the time I got back AJ was dealing out the cards with a swift, fluttering motion as she explained the rules.

  ‘… so it’s basically poker, only without all the fucking around that slows it down. You get four cards and you make a bet. I turn over the top card on the pack, which we can all include in our hand, and if you want you can add to your bet. If not, you’re out, and you have to match stakes if you can. Then we show our cards and the best hand takes the pot. Winner deals and minimum bet is one chip, no maximum. No borrowing either, and first one bust gets it, and we need a bit of spice, so let’s say the first round’s a spanking, the second is six of the best and for the third each of the winner’s chips counts as a cane stroke.’

  I put the chips down, a double handful of glass gems.

  ‘Reds are one, blues are five,’ AJ said, and began to dish them out between the four of us.

  She’d raised the stakes, a lot, and I could see how her mind was working. Pippa and I would lose the first two rounds so that AJ could enjoy humiliating us in front of Jemima, who’d then be thoroughly turned on for the third round, which she’d lose. She’d be drunk too, because while I was upstairs one of them had poured a round of brandy. As I picked up my cards, I felt another flush of guilt, stronger than before.

  My hand was useless, a four, an eight, a nine and a jack, in different suits. I pushed a cautious single red gem into the centre of the table and watched the others. AJ was completely straight-faced, which made her look even more evil than usual, and she also put out a single red. Pippa was trying to look cool, but there was a slight flush to her cheeks as she placed her own bet, two reds. Jemima was bright-eyed and smiling, but her fingers were trembling as she put a blue gem into the pile.

  ‘First bets in place,’ AJ said and turned the top card over.

  It was an eight, which at least gave me a pair, so I pushed a second red gem into the pile. Both AJ and Pippa did the same, but Jemima put out a second blue, although she had nothing to gain by doing so. She wasn’t even trying to hide her satisfaction as she glanced between us.

  ‘Ace high,’ AJ said as she laid down her cards.

  ‘Two kings,’ Pippa said.

  I laid down my own cards with a shrug, leaving Jemima grinning.

  ‘Full house,’ she said.

  ‘Eights on tens,’ AJ added. ‘It’s all yours, and your deal.’

  Jemima scooped in her winnings and took the cards, which she dealt with considerable confidence. I got another bad hand, and had to remind myself that the whole purpose of the game was to get Jemima punished as I put two red gems into the pot. Jemima won again, leaving her with the lion’s share of the gems and me with the extremely uncomfortable prospect of having to go over her knee. Not that she spanked all that hard, or at least not as hard as AJ, but as I was to all intents and purposes her aunt it would mean I was being spanked by my own niece, and with an audience. She’d think it was funny too, and laugh at me, while she was sure to make a big production of it, both because it would be the first time and because she had her sister and AJ to show off to.

  I actually won the third hand, but it was a brief respite. The fourth went to Pippa and the fifth to AJ, leaving the three of them roughly equal and me very much the worst off, but at least the chances of a spanking from Jemima had receded. I was dealt a pair of sevens and a queen came up on the pack, leaving me with two pairs and a good chance of clawing back some of my losses, so I pushed out my remaining blue gem, only to see AJ rake in the pot on three twos. I was down to two red gems.

  ‘Looks like we may have a loser,’ AJ said, grinning at me. ‘Come on, let’s have some luck.’

  She dealt, and as I picked my cards up I wondered if she was cheating. I had a pair of fours, not enough to risk both my chips on, and I pushed a single out into the middle.

  ‘Chicken,’ AJ remarked, but added only a single red herself.

  Pippa added two reds and Jemima followed suit. AJ turned over the top card to reveal a four, giving me the best hand I’d had so far, and I cursed silently as I pushed out my remaining red. AJ followed with two blues, forcing the others to match her stake or withdraw. It was a bold move, and as I already had three of the available fours I wondered if she was bluffing. Pippa didn’t seem to think so and threw in her hand, but Jemima pushed two of her blues into the centre.

  I felt my stomach tighten. If I won I was back in the game, but if I lost I was bust and it would be time for my spanking, from whichever of them was the winner. Jemima put her cards down first and my heart sank at the sight of three kings. The blood had already started to go to my face at the thought of going over Jemima’s knee, when AJ laid her cards down and I saw a mix of numbers.

  ‘Straight,’ she declared. ‘Three to seven. My hand, and I do believe Miss Muffet is bust.’

  I tried to hide a grimace, telling myself it was better to be spanked by the tall, dominant AJ than by Jemima. Not that it made much difference as I was about to be done in front of her anyway.

  ‘Up you get,’ AJ ordered, and snapped her fingers at me as she pushed her chair back.

  She moved forward a little to make a lap for me and patted her knee. I undid my jeans to make it easier for her to get them down, a meek gesture she acknowledged with a curt nod. My fingers were shaking badly and I fumbled the tag of my zip twice before I managed to pull it down, but my reaction was far less from apprehension about the coming pain than from the shame of having it done in front of Jemima.

  As I laid my body across AJ’s lap I was trying to tell myself I’d be dignified about it and not make a display of myself, but she spanks hard and I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope with the pain. I lose my dignity very quickly when I’m spanked, and always have.

  ‘Bare bottom, obviously,’ AJ said, and she stuck her thumbs down the back of my jeans.

  I’d never imagined for an instant that I’d be allowed the modesty of keeping my knickers up, but she didn’t even allow me to attend to them separately. She just pushed everything down as one, exposing the full, pale moon of my bottom to the girls. Jemima had begun to giggle, and moved her chair to get a better view of my spanking. AJ gave my cheeks a wobble, then cocked one knee up to lift my bottom and make sure my pussy showed from behind.

  It was a position I’ve been in so many times, but not usually with my young nieces sitting behind me giggling at the sight of my bare rear view. The bubble of shame that had been building up in my throat burst out as a sob when AJ’s hand settled across my cheeks. Then it began. She spanked every bit as hard as I’d expected, but I still wasn’t ready for the pain. I never am, and never will be. No matter how often I get it, those first smacks sting so much I start to wriggle, and no matter how often I tell myself I’ll take it like a lady I always seem to lose control.

  AJ knew how to handle me too, spanking as hard as she could right from the start in a deliberate effort to break me. She succeeded, all my resolve vanishing beneath the stinging pain as I began to squirm and kick my legs in my half-down panties, just as lewd and ridiculous as ever. My pussy was already showing, and I’d soon begun to buck so wildly that my cheeks were coming apart to show off my bumhole as well, causing Jemima to dissolve in a fit of disgusted giggles.

  That was too much. I burst into tears, blubbering my heart out as my bottom bounced under AJ’s hand. She knew me far too well to stop just because I was crying, and paused only to pull my knickers and jeans down a little further and call me a baby before she began to spank once more. I’d given in completely, every last shred of dignity gone as I squirmed and kicked in her grip, tears streaming down my face and spittle spraying from my mouth with every smack. Even when it stopped I stayed as I was, limp across her lap with my burning bottom thrust high and every rude detail of cunt and anus on show to the girls, no longer caring.

  ‘Get up, slut,’ AJ ordered. ‘If you think I’m going to frig you off you can forget
it.’

  I hadn’t thought my sense of humiliation could get any worse, but at her words it did and I was babbling denials even as I jumped to my feet. My bottom was hot and glowing, my pussy wet and ready, but the thought of being masturbated to orgasm in front of Jemima was still agonisingly shameful, and every bit as desirable.

  ‘… I didn’t, really,’ I was saying, and my face must have been the same colour as my bottom.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ AJ answered, and Jemima giggled. ‘Tidy yourself up, you’re a mess.’

  Pippa gave me a sympathetic smile as she handed me a box of tissues, but she’d enjoyed the show just as much as the others. I was still crying, and I’d begun to snivel, adding a final touch to my embarrassment as I wiped my eyes and nose before reaching down to pull up my clothes. AJ wagged a finger at me.

  ‘Uh, uh, no you don’t. I think it better be bare bums for losers.’

  I knew better than to argue and sat down as I was, wincing as my tender flesh pressed the wicker chair seat. Jemima glanced at me, her face set in an impish grin.

  ‘I want to see you get caned too,’ she announced.

  ‘Maybe you will,’ AJ said as she took up the cards, ‘or maybe you’ll get it yourself.’

  ‘I can take it better than Auntie Penny,’ she said, her voice full of scorn.

  I ignored her. She had a higher pain threshold than me, it was true, and could take quite a lot from Hudson or Morris, and she wasn’t as hung up about exposing herself either. On the other hand I’d seen her throw a spanking tantrum more than once and knew how sensitive she could be if the situation wasn’t exactly to her liking, which was another thing that worried me about her going in for commercial punishment scenes.

  ‘Six of the best this time,’ AJ reminded us as she dished out the cards. ‘Even up the chips, Miss Muffet.’

  I did as I was told, dividing the glass gems equally as before, but now with my hot, bare bottom pressed to the wicker of my chair, something it was impossible to push out of my mind. She had at least dealt me a decent hand this time, with a pair of twos and a pair of aces, surely the perfect chance to build up a big stake before I began to play carefully, thus ensuring that somebody other than me got the cane.