Uniform Doll Read online

  I chose to go bottomless, which always leaves me feeling more vulnerable. That meant boots and socks, adding to the feeling of exposure of my lower body, along with a khaki blouse, jacket, a tie in deeper brown and a hat, the private to Mo’s sergeant. It felt good, kinky and irreverent too, making me appreciate what Uncle Rupert had said about authority and having sex with a girl in uniform.

  All of it went on, although the blouse was tight over my boobs, leaving my nipples poking out, even with them packed into one of Mo’s bras. It looked all right though, especially after Mo had straightened it up, but being bottomless in it was simply wonderful. It looked so lewd, so humiliating, with the immaculate uniform on top, and my pussy showing between the sides of the blouse. Better still was the rear view, with the tuck of my spanked cheeks just peeping out from beneath the hem of the jacket.

  She made me drill like that, thoroughly, using a swagger stick to adjust my body and to smack my bum or thighs every time I made a mistake. That was often, because I didn’t understand any of her instructions, and in no time both my legs were hot with bruising and my pussy damp enough to leave a smear of moisture between my thighs. Mo noticed and pushed the stick in between my lips, rubbing it on my clit to bring it up wet with juice.

  ‘Look at it,’ she said. ‘Disgusting. Suck it.’

  I opened my mouth obediently. She pushed the stick in and I sucked, tasting my own sex, with my lips pursed around the slim wooden shaft. It was good, and I shut my eyes in pleasure, revelling in the taste of my own excitement.

  ‘Like that, do you?’ she snapped. ‘Well, let’s see if you like this. Across the bed.’

  I went, bending down to make my bottom the highest part of my body and sneaking a look in the mirror. My rear view was great, two chubby pink cheeks sticking out under my shirt-tails, red from spanking, and parting, with my little plump lips showing and the shadowy crease between my cheeks. It just made me want to lick myself.

  ‘Eyes front!’ Mo shouted, and I found myself moving instinctively, with a pang of real fear.

  The swagger stick caught the back of my thighs, hard, leaving a long red welt. I yelped, gasping, and got another one for my trouble, up under the tuck of my bottom.

  ‘Silence!’ she snapped, and I felt the tip of the swagger stick touch my pussy.

  She slid it up, deep, until I felt a dull push against my cervix. For a moment she worked it in and out, until my breathing started to quicken, stopped, and pulled it free. It was put to my face, sideways, the smooth shaft sticky with thick white juice. I licked it up obediently, only to catch another swat for being so eager.

  ‘You wait,’ Mo said. ‘You wait until I say. Until then you do nothing. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I responded.

  ‘Not sir, sir is for officers. Yes, Sergeant!’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant.’

  ‘Better,’ she said. ‘Well, as being made to taste your own cunt doesn’t seem to have any effect on you, perhaps we should try something else. Backside up, pull that back in!’

  I obeyed, feeling my bum-cheeks spread as I dipped my spine. I knew what was coming, or I thought I did, and my lower lip was already shaking. Sure enough, the swagger stick was put to my flesh again, between my legs, pressing to my pussy mound. Slowly she moved it back, my trembling growing stronger as the rounded tip traced a slow line between my sex-lips, making me jerk and gasp as it touched my clitty. For once she ignored me, moving higher still, to slide the stick back into my vagina, wiggle the tip and once more pull it out.

  My hole closed with a rude noise. The stick touched me again, slimy with my juice, full on my anus. A little sob escaped my lips at the thought of what she was about to do, then a gasp as my bottom hole was penetrated. The rounded end of the stick twisted past my greasy anus and up into the cavity beyond. I screwed up my face as it went up, well up. She began to poke the stick around up my bum, a truly disgusting feeling, buggering me. I knew she was watching too, her cruel eyes glued to my poor little ring as the wooden shaft slid in and out.

  She took her time, really enjoying my bumhole, before pulling the stick slowly out. I knew exactly where it was going next, but I just couldn’t look. Screwing my eyes up tighter still, I opened my mouth, with my brain screaming at me that I was a disgusting little slut. That didn’t stop me, or Mo. The stick went in, the tip poked against my tongue, and I could taste my bottom. I closed my mouth, sucking on it, my body trembling with reaction, my stomach knotted tight. Mo chuckled, and pushed it deeper in, making me take the full length of what had just been up my bottom. I tried, but started to gag as the tip prodded the back of my throat, at which Mo pulled it out, laughing. Again it was put to my mouth, sideways, to let me kiss and lick at it.

  ‘I thought so,’ she said. ‘A dirt sucker. You disgust me.’

  That was so unfair, and I stifled a sob as she pulled the swagger stick away. It went back up my bum and was left there, sticking obscenely from between my cheeks. Mo went for the camera and took a whole series of photos of me like that – such a dirty pose, bent, bare bottom, with the stick in my bumhole. She even took a close-up, just inches away, of no more than the stick and my poor little hole. At last she tired of the game, pulled it back out and once more stuck it in my mouth.

  ‘Suck on that,’ she instructed. ‘I think that fat arse could take a little more.’

  ‘Please, sir . . . Sergeant, I can’t!’ I protested instantly. ‘I’m too bruised!’

  ‘Who said I was going to beat you, pervert?’ she answered me. ‘And don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. Stay there.’

  She left the room. I stayed still, sucking on the swagger stick and wondering what she was going to do. My bottom felt so exposed, and so big, sore too, and I was fairly sure I was going to get something up it, something bigger than the swagger stick. She had gone downstairs, and I was imagining her in the kitchen, picking out a big, fat courgette, greasing it with butter, stuffing it rudely up my poor, straining little bumhole, just like some fat, ugly cock . . .

  It was worse, it was a cock. A rubber one, maybe, but just as ugly and just as big – bigger maybe, at least bigger than any of my boyfriends. It was black and bumpy, designed for a pussy, never a bumhole, not mine, but I knew that was where it was going. She had a tube too, toothpaste, and that proved it. She was holding it up and staring at my bum, nodding thoughtfully to herself. I could only whimper, shaking at the thought of the hideous thing up my bottom hole, and wondering if I could even take it.

  ‘Up on the bed,’ she ordered. ‘Kneeling, arse high, back in.’

  ‘Yes, Sergeant.’

  I scrambled up. Mo knelt down on the bed, beside me, one brawny arm wrapping around my waist. I shut my eyes, biting my lip. She held me tight, keeping me in place as firmly as if I’d been in secure bondage. There was a rude noise, like a little fart, and I felt the cool toothpaste touch my skin, right between my cheeks. She laid it down between them, a long worm, starting right up where my cheeks began to bulge, all the way down to my anus. Her finger touched my skin in the crease, smearing the toothpaste down, making a fat blob, pressing to my hole. It went up me, into the little dirty ring, taking the toothpaste with it. I sighed at the feeling, with my hole cool and greasy and open. A second finger invaded me, and a third, stretching my now juicy hole wide, to make me gasp.

  That was when it started to sting. There was just a warm feeling at first, nice really, but it grew hotter, until it was burning, turning my anus to a ring of agonising fire. I cried out, my feet kicking, my mouth coming open to the sudden pain. Mo responded by jabbing a toothpaste-smeared thumb up my pussy, rubbing it into the mouth, up between my lips, over my clit. For a moment she fucked me, in both holes, as I gasped and wriggled. It hurt so much, like a cut, my whole rear burning, my anus so open I was sure I’d soil myself, as she stuffed her fingers deeper and deeper up the hole.

  She stopped, chuckled, pulled out her fingers. I was panting, my eyes shut, my mouth wide, a piece of spittle hanging from
my lower lip. The dildo touched me, round and firm against my anus. I was open, wide open, but I still felt my ring stretch as the great bulbous knob was forced up me, stretching me until I cried out in pain. She eased it out a little, pushed again, and again. On the third my anus popped, with a sharp stab of pain, then an awful, bloated feeling as it went up, filling my rectum with fat, rubber cock, until the whole obscene thing was up my bottom.

  It hurt, my anus burning, my pussy too, my rectum bloated so much I felt I would burst. I was wiggling my toes, biting my lips, drooling down my chin, and as she began to move the awful thing about up my bum I was crying too. I just couldn’t stop myself, it was simply too much for me, everything, from being clothed except for my legs and my great, fat bottom, to being held helpless in my pain and exposure, to being buggered. Big, oily teardrops were rolling from my eyes, down both cheeks, to splash on the bed cover beneath me. I was sobbing too, little, broken sounds, so miserable, so pathetic.

  Mo just kept right on buggering me, pulling the dildo slowly in and out of my aching hole. Sometimes it came right out, only to be shoved up again into my gaping cavity. After a while her hand found my pussy, curled under my tummy to cup the plump mound, with her longest finger on my clit. She began to frig me, rubbing the toothpaste over my swollen, inflamed clit, adding to my pain, and to my awful, helpless frustration too. Before long I was gasping, with the tears running freely down my face, but in helpless, uncontrolled ecstasy.

  I was going to come, I couldn’t stop myself, whimpering and snivelling, well in tears, begging for mercy. She just went faster, rubbing hard at my clitty, jamming the dildo in and out of my straining bumhole. The pain became unbearable, my legs kicking out, the saliva running free down my chin. I was screaming, blubbering and screaming, my whole rear on fire, in burning pain as I was sodomised and masturbated, brought to orgasm with my anus full of rubbery cock and a big woman’s fingers on my sex.

  Did I scream, so loud, until Mo had to make a snatch for my discarded panties and stuff them in my mouth to shut me up. That didn’t stop me coming, and I chewed on them as she finished me off, rubbing at me with the dildo jammed to the very hilt in my back passage.

  That was it, for me. Of course I was made to suck the dildo, and lick her out again, a favour for a favour. We ate after that, with me serving her, still bottomless under my uniform. There was more sex afterwards, drilling and humiliation for me, photographed in a dozen lewd poses for her album, most of them focused on my smacked bottom.

  We slept, eventually, and when I woke it was bright sunlight Mo was already dressed, in a different uniform to the night before. There was another woman there too, a sergeant like Mo, who had just come off duty. I could have done with coffee and toast, maybe something more substantial, but Mo was pretty off-hand with me. I was left to fend for myself, wandering around in my top and panties while she tried to hurry me up.

  Up until then I hadn’t been certain, but I just couldn’t resist it. If she’d been cuddly and sweet I wouldn’t have done it. I couldn’t have done it. It was all there too, her full number two dress uniform, or whatever she’d called it, her bra and panties too. I even had the photograph, or at least I did once I’d pinched the film. Her housemate had gone straight to bed, so I didn’t even have to worry about her. I just gathered up Mo’s clothes, stuck them in one of the laundry bags and walked out.

  Three

  I didn’t feel bad about pinching Mo’s uniform. In fact I felt it was pretty fair. She had made a real mess of my bottom, with almost the whole surface bruised, and the hole too. My cheeks smarted for days, and I couldn’t even walk properly, let alone sit down in comfort. My anus was worse, and I began to understand why girls whose boyfriends bugger them resent it. After all, it’s not just the indignity and sheer filthiness of taking a cock up the bottom, but having to waddle about like a duck for days afterwards.

  That didn’t stop me taking the uniform to Uncle Rupert, as soon as I’d had the photos developed, discreetly. He noticed, of course, and I saw his sly smile as I put a cushion on my chair in the kitchen. Not that he said anything, but he knew. I had the uniform in a bag, and I put it on the table, sitting back.

  ‘That’s a pressie for you,’ I told him. ‘Open it.’

  ‘A present? How kind,’ he answered, taking the bag and peering inside.

  He pulled out the jacket, looking puzzled, until he saw the insignia on the sleeves. His expression changed to astonishment, then delight, as one by one he took out the pieces of Mo’s clothing, her skirt, her blouse, her tie, her huge bra, her stockings, her panties.

  ‘You didn’t?’ he demanded, holding the huge blue knickers up.

  ‘I did,’ I answered, and threw the pack of photos on the table.

  He pulled them out, his hand shaking visibly as he looked at the first, of me taking my spanking across Mo’s lap.

  ‘I’m, er . . . not sure I should be looking at these, Jade,’ he said weakly. ‘Good God!’

  Whatever his moral qualms it hadn’t stopped him looking at the next. His mouth came slowly open, until he reached the close up of my bumhole with the swagger stick up her, when he put his hand over his eyes and passed them back. I couldn’t help giggling.

  ‘Choose one,’ I said. ‘Maybe the first, where I’m only being spanked.’

  ‘And the uniform is for my collection?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘It counts, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Certainly it counts – I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t, so long as you didn’t break any of the rules.’

  ‘No. She’s a genuine army sergeant, stationed at Aldershot, even if she is only responsible for the regimental laundry. As you can see, that’s the uniform she wore when we had sex. One of them anyway.’

  ‘I see,’ he said weakly, taking up the picture of me across Mo’s lap again. ‘By God, but she’s a monster!’

  ‘I like them big.’

  ‘So I see. Well, thank you then, and yes, I’ll use the picture of her spanking you to confirm the trophy. But you must see what I have achieved myself!’

  That slightly took the shine off my satisfaction, but I followed him eagerly upstairs, taking the uniform with us. I’d guessed he’d got another himself, immediately, and sure enough, there it was, an immaculate uniform, on a new mannequin, a familiar uniform.

  ‘A Girl Guide?’ I managed. ‘Uncle Rupert!’

  ‘A Girl Guide leader, thank you, Jade,’ he responded. ‘And aged a respectable twenty-six. Allow me some morals.’

  ‘Hang on,’ I said. ‘They abandoned these uniforms while I was still at school.’

  ‘Not at the more respectable girl’s public schools,’ he answered, grinning.

  ‘Was that where you got it?’ I asked, reaching out to touch the crisp blue fabric.

  It was perfect, the blouse blue-grey cotton, the skirt darker, and wool, with the sweet little neck-tie in the same colour. There were even badges on the sleeves, an association one, a school one, and another for her rank as adult-leader. With mischievous pleasure I reached down to lift the skirt, revealing demure white cotton panties stretched tight across the mannequin’s bottom.

  ‘Come on,’ I demanded. ‘What happened? When?’

  ‘The day before yesterday,’ he replied, ‘but it wasn’t easy. It took weeks, and no, sadly, I never actually visited the school in question.’

  ‘You surprise me, you dirty old goat. So how did you do it?’

  ‘In due time, my dear. First I want to hear about your army sergeant, in detail.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ I answered, but moved to look at the photo of Uncle Rupert with his Guide.

  She was pretty, dark-haired, petite, with an air of insecurity about her that I knew would have appealed to his instincts. Not that it was surprising she looked insecure. In the photo she was bending to touch her toes, with her long blue skirt hoisted up onto her back and her little white panties down around her thighs, along with her tights. Her bum was small and neat, her pussy so hairy
I could only just make out the lips. Not just that, but she was outdoors, in a field by the look of it. I could imagine exactly how she would have felt.

  ‘You really are a bastard,’ I told him. ‘Imagine making her pose like that. In the open!’

  ‘It was actually rather secluded,’ he said. ‘She went bare later.’

  ‘You’ve got to tell me everything.’

  ‘Certainly, over a bottle of wine, and you are to go first. I insist.’

  We went back downstairs to drink red wine in the kitchen. I told him about Mo, leaving out only the very worst bits. He listened, nodding and sipping his wine, the look of amusement on his face growing slowly more intense. By the time I finished he was grinning like a schoolboy.

  ‘Splendid!’ he declared. ‘You put my efforts to shame.’

  ‘I’m sure I don’t,’ I answered. ‘Now tell me about your Guide leader. What was her name?’

  ‘Sarah. Miss MacKinley to her charges.’

  ‘And how did you meet?’

  ‘Using the wonders of modern technology, an Internet dating service to be exact. I use several, mainly for spanking partners, and while most of the replies are from professional ladies angling for trade, a few have proved worthwhile. Sarah isn’t into spanking though – or, at least, she wasn’t.’

  ‘Dirty old goat!’

  ‘If you say so. I’d like to think she’s grateful. Now do stop interrupting, unless you have a sensible question, or want more description.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘The agency she was listed on wasn’t a spanking one. It wasn’t even necessarily a sexual one. Sarah’s was one among many, and inconvenient because she was right down in Cornwall, near Fowey. Nevertheless, I was drawn to it, mainly by her photo. As you can imagine, she was irresistible to me. Such a delicate face, so earnest, so sweet . . .’

  ‘So vulnerable. That was it really, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Perhaps, yes. A vulnerable look on the victim’s face does improve the pleasure of dishing out a spanking. Now, no more interruptions, please. She looked vulnerable, yes, but what she did do, which is unusual, was stress her academic qualifications. That intrigued me, and also made me wonder if I couldn’t come away with a nice Oxford BEd gown. They’re very fine, you know, with a green silk hood.