Robert Taylor

Whipped bitch

CHAPTER ONE

Janey screamed.

The man had seized the collar tabs of her shirt and yanked, intending to tear it open. But the neck was buttoned tightly and the tabs were slippery, soaking wet like all her clothing. The collar slipped from his grasp.

She cowered into the corner of the cab of the pickup truck, clawing for the doorhandle.

"I'm going to have a look at those big tits of yours," he snarled.

"Mister, wait!" she cried. "Don't tear my shirt, it's all I got!"

He paused, rubbing a hand across his lips. He was big, raw-boned, had tangled red hair and a hooked nose.

Rain crashed on the cab roof, flooded down the windshield. The headlights showed palm trees thrashing about, bent almost double by the violence of the storm. The rain was cold, had torn through Janey's clothes until she had wept with the pain of the icy tremors that had seemed to freeze her bones. And yet she pawed at the door, trying to find the handle to escape this brutal rapist.

He laughed. "Shit, girl. There's no doorhandle on that side."

She didn't believe him. Her hand raced frantically over the greasy door.

"I took em off," he grinned. He plucked a cigarette from a pack on the dashboard and lit it. He wore a thick plaid jacket, zipped up only halfway. He said, "You don't want to go out into that storm. You're three miles from the nearest house and there's just no cars out in this weather. So you just warm your fingers so you can unbutton that shirt and show me your tits."

"Mister," she pleaded, "I'm so cold…"

"Should've thought of that before you run away from home. I swear, I don't understand you kids, think you can hitchhike to palm-tree country and think it's going to be all sunshine and oranges." He paused, flicked cigarette ashes on the floor. "Well, I picked you up out of the storm and it's warm here in the cab and I want to see your tits, that's all there is to it. Hell, I ain't going to fuck you. In this cramped old cab? Shit, I can get all the cunt I want in a nice big bed."

"Unbutton your shirt. For shit's sakes, your tits will be warmer without wet clothing on 'em!"

Janey was frightened into rigidity. Her fingers were too stiff to work the buttons.

He lunged, both hands stabbing at her shirt. He caught it right this time, yanked. Buttons popped, cloth ripped, and the shirt was wide open, her breasts spilling into view.

She clawed at his hands. He swore, and a thumb jammed into her throat – instant agony, like a hammer striking. She gagged and clawed as the man stared at her breasts, large, high globes with big, pink caps.

He grunted with satisfaction and released her. He turned to the steering wheel, thrust into gear and drove down the highway.

"You're lucky," he said. "Pretty face and blonde hair, and tits like melons. Stand up nice and high, they do. Or I'd have thrown your ass out into the rain. Your legs look long and I hope your ass ain't flat. I don't want the trouble of tearing your bluejeans down to see your ass. I'll let Miz Claymore do that."

Janey tugged the shreds of her shirt together over her breasts. He shifted gears and she saw the speedometer needle climb to forty. Even if there were a doorhandle she couldn't jump out now. How had he known that she had run away from home? Dreaming of sunshiny palm trees and oranges to be picked right off trees?

Shivering, she watched rain spill down the windshield faster than the wipers could scoop it away, saw palm trees thrashing like whips, heard the rain drumming on the roof, and the steady splash of water against the fenders.

She had waited two hours in the rain until this man picked her up.

The road was empty, not a house in sight. Sometimes she glimpsed the ocean through the palm trees to her right, towering waves crashing thunderously.

Then, neon lights. To the left. A large building, a towering sign arched over the figure of a naked girl. The rain flooding the windshield eased enough that she could read the letters – Palm Cove Topless.

The pickup truck turned off the highway into a drive leading to the front of the neon glare. Dozens of cars were parked there. Her driver stopped at a door bright beneath an overhead light. He stopped, turned off the motor and opened his door.

"Come with me," he said.

Janey backed into her corner. "But where… what…"

"Oh, shit," he snarled, seizing her arm and yanking her out under the steering wheel. His grip was like iron; she stumbled out after him, tears running down her cheeks now, shivering violently as the icy rain struck her and washed away what little heat she had gathered in the cab. He hustled her to the door and rang a bell, quiet chimes sounding inside.

The door opened. A small, dark man in a black jersey and black pants gazed at them. Slanty eyes, Oriental looking. He waved them inside, into a narrow hall, and closed the door.

"Akito, you get Miz Claymore here. Tell her this cunt is near froze to death from the storm."

The Oriental nodded and went off swiftly with a curious, soft-footed gait, like a cat, Janey thought. But that notion was fleeting. Most important, warmth seeped up her pants legs. She opened her shirt to receive it, while turning from the driver of the pickup truck. In so doing she glimpsed the outside door. A steel rectangle painted white, broken only by a keyhole where the doorknob should be.

The feeling of being trapped made Janey rise on her toes, ready to scream.

Then a woman appeared in the hall.

She was blonde, wore a reddish silk evening gown tight on a slim, lovely body. She walked with a brisk stride.

"Orvil!" she said to the man. "The poor darling is shivering. Bring her into the office quickly."

Lustrous, dark brown eyes swept over Janey. "Sweetheart, hurry in. I have towels. That terrible storm!"

"It's good weather for me," Orvil said, laughing.

"Yes, but the poor-sweetheart! Like a drowned rat! Honey, what's your name?"

"Janey."

They ushered her into the office, a businesslike place with filing cabinets, two desks, some straight chairs. A tidy, cold sort of place. The woman tore open a drawer and took out a whiskey bottle. She spilled an inch or so into a glass and handed it to Janey.

"This will stave off pneumonia, precious."

Janey hated whiskey, but she gulped the stuff down, holding her breath. It scorched her throat. She choked, gulped again. Liquid fire! It hit her stomach and the rolling started. She clutched her mouth, knowing she was going to vomit. She had not eaten in two days. She fell into a chair. The nausea passed.

Helpless, she felt her shirt and jacket being torn off the unbelievable, luxurious dry warmth of a bath towel encircled her shoulders.

"I want a hundred," Orvil said. "She's got big tits."

"Help me with her pants," the woman snapped at him.

Clutching the towel to her, again fighting nausea, Janey did not protest, could not, as they stripped icy bluejeans and panties off her legs. The woman wrapped a second towel about her thighs.

More whiskey was brought. She drank it, hoping she could hold it down. She fought it while squeezing herself together beneath the towels. The two were talking low-voiced. Then she felt the whiskey get to her blood stream. She was warming all over.

She groaned in relief.

"Darling Janey, please stand up," Mrs. Claymore said.

They helped her rise. Then the woman plucked away the towels and gazed intently at her body, turned her around, then exclaimed, "What a luscious behind! Orvil, she is adorable. Fifty now, the rest when – depending…" She opened a drawer and took out some money. She gave it to Orvil. "Don't seem like much," he complained.

"Orvil, you know I'm more than generous. Depending…" She turned to a desk and flicked the switch of an intercom box. "Akito, please let Orvil out. And I want a tub of hot water for Janey in number six."

Janey had again wrapped herself in the towels and sat, shivering, too exhausted from fighting the cold to care what happened to her.

In the bathtub, as heat penetrated to her bones, she fell asleep. She awoke when the Oriental, Akito, said, "Missy eat now."

Food! Her eyes opened wide. She was in an oval tub, in a bathroom without flat surfaces or corners, sort of egg-shaped. She barely recalled arriving here; like she had passed out in Mrs. Claymore's office. Seeing a rack of towels, she climbed out and wrapped herself in a huge, fluffy towel like a cloak. She smelled food.

Leaving the bathroom, she found a bedroom built like a dome. An overhead light with a glass bowl of varying colors cast rainbow hues on a low, very large bed to the left. A white vanity table faced a mirror beside the door, and to the right a table laden with food.

She forgot all else and pounced on it, seizing up a hot roll and stuffing it into her mouth, then roast beef and mashed potatoes. The platter of food was huge.

She wolfed down thick slabs of roast beef. That took the raw edge off her hunger. Curious about the room, she split a roll, stuffed beef into it, and ate the sandwich as she toured the place.

There were no closets and no dressers. Where would a person put their clothes? The vanity table drawer contained makeup and perfumes. The door, she found swung open easily, revealing a hall. There was no knob on the door, only a keyhole on the outside.

She returned to the table and gobbled down mashed potatoes. Then Mrs. Claymore came in.

She smiled on seeing how much Janey had eaten. "Precious, you must have been starving! Oh, the world outside is such a cruel place."

She was carrying a plastic bag containing what looked like ribbons of many colors, all tanged together.

"Do throw off that towel. The temperature is set at eighty degrees. You need no covering."

Janey obeyed, throwing the towel back over the chair.

Mrs. Claymore seemed all sweetness and light, sheer heaven after the horrible Orvil!

"You can finish your dinner later. It's not good to eat too heavily after what you've been through. First stand up and let me see what you look like without goose pimples."

Janey rose. Mrs. Claymore pursed her lips thoughtfully, nodded, signaled for her to turn around. Janey did.

"Janey, that luscious behind! The way it sticks out, my gracious. Very well, come over to the bed and I'll examine you."

There seemed no point in asking why. Janey felt helpless, yet so grateful to Mrs. Claymore that she would do anything she asked. She went to the bed. The woman sat on the edge, tossing the clear plastic bag of ribbons down, and patting a place beside her where Janey was to sit.

She sat with her legs together, arms crossed on her bare breasts.

"First your nipples, sweetheart." The woman nudged Janey's tits, tweaked her left nipple, then circled the areola with her finger. The caress was creamy soft and produced the intended result, a puffing of the large pink areola and the nipple protruding. "Lovely!" Mrs. Claymore murmured. "And pale pink, no makeup needed at all. Now spread your legs, darling, and show me your pussy."

Janey resisted. She looked, frightened, at the woman. But her smile was utterly reassuring. Janey exposed her blonde pubic fluff. She saw Mrs. Claymore pinch hairs and rub them.

"Silky," she murmured. "Now lie back, darling, so I can examine your cunt."

Trembling now, frightened, Janey felt fingertips as soft as butter rove the hairy outer lips of her cunt. She plucked at hairs, lifting, then squeezed the lips together. Janey felt a touch of fire as the woman fingered her clit. A moan, half fear and half pleasure, escaped her lips.

"Your clitoris is that sensitive?" Mrs. Claymore asked.

Janey nodded.

Fingers roved down her slit and suddenly were inside her vagina, wriggling about most sensuously. Janey gasped. The feel of it was exquisite!

"Juicy," Mrs. Claymore said. "Janey, you're a wet cunted little darling, and I do adore you. Really, you arouse my lust. Did you ever have a woman lap your pussy?"

Janey was shocked on hearing that. She tried to rise, but then the fingers slithering about in her cunt got to her and she did not want to rise. She fell back. The question – lap her? Marcia. Back home, she and Marcia had been in bed together a few times.

"Yes," she choked.

"I'm glad for that. And you're no virgin. Have you been fucked many times?"

"Well…"

"A terribly blunt question on my part. Tell me about yourself, Janey, why you left home – your loves – everything. While I decide if I'll go down on your luscious pussy or not. Tell me."

Lying there, her pussy turning to warm jelly under the woman's voluptuous caresses, Janey began to talk.

CHAPTER TWO

Her life had never seemed as simple as when she reduced it to essentials for Mrs. Claymore. Probably the hunger, cold, and despair of the past days helped her slough off unimportant details.

Her father was tyrannical, an autocrat who thought females should be seen and not heard. Clearly he had driven her to rebellion in high school, to wild friends, marijuana, and experimentation with sex. And the night he found Frank Wallis fucking her on the living-room couch – well, she had welcomed it, a final break, and in mid-winter she had escaped from home, hitchhiking toward the sunny Southland.

"And that is all past," Mrs. Claymore said, suavely caressing Janey's cunt. "Your experience with Orvil is past. You are safe now, warm and well fed."

"You're so good to me," Janey sighed.

"I hope you will come to love me, Janey. But in return I must have obedience."

"Anything!" Lying there, squirming beneath the unbearable tease of those fingertips slipping in and out of her vagina, up her slit to squeeze her swollen clit to spasms of excitement, then back down again, her mood was ecstatic. She wanted to hug Mrs. Claymore in gratitude but the word obedience stilled her, made her realize that she must be passive until the woman told her otherwise.

"You won't enjoy everything," she was told. "Not at first. Have faith in me and it will turn out beautifully."

"What do I have to do?"

"To obey and not ask questions!" Mrs. Claymore said sharply. "In a moment, will explain. But first…"

She got off the bed, knelt on the floor between Janey's legs and bent down to her gaping cunt.

The tongue lash was a streak of moist heat that made Janey fling her legs apart, frog-fashion. She looked down and saw the woman's blonde hair above her own tawny pubic muff. Then lips slithered to her clit and sucked the hot little nubbin.

"Ahhhh! Oh, so hot, so good!"

"Beg me to lap you, Janey."

"Oh, yes, please lick my cunt, lap me! I love it!"

Again her clit was sucked, and she began thrashing, screwing around, rubbing her ass on the bed as she fought her way into a cum. The flat of the woman's tongue now swabbed her slit, and when it coiled up into her cunt, her entire belly quaked, convulsed into orgasm.

"Ahh-hh!" Janey cried. "I'm going to cum!"

The tongue left her.

Mrs. Claymore rose, gazed down at Janey thrashing about the bed, hips jerking as she tried to regain the peak of her cum.

"Please!" Janey cried. "I'm almost there, please lap me over the hump!"

The woman opened the plastic bag. She said quietly, "I must begin your lesson in obedience."

From the bag, she drew a tangle of rainbow colors. She shook them out, and Janey saw eight or nine thin strands, each a different color, attached to a handle. Several knots in each strand. Mrs. Claymore held up the handle for her to see. It appeared to be limber plastic, about eight inches long, in the form of an erect cock. She grasped Janey's leg to hold her still and placed the handle of the whip in the mouth of her cunt.

"Please spread your legs, darling," she said. "I want this to slip in easily."

Janey obeyed, wanting the thing in her convulsing cunt, knowing it would take her over the hump of orgasm.

Mrs. Claymore wriggled it, wetting it well in cunt-juice, then slipped it into that pulsing, overflowing vagina.

Moaning, Janey cried out as the penetration moved quickly into her pussy, driving her to the very edge of her cum. She arched up, jerking.

Suddenly it was gone and her hot cunt clutched emptiness. She shrieked.

Mrs. Claymore grasped her foot and twisted, forcing her to flop over on her belly. "Up on your knees, precious."

Janey's body felt as if it had been torn apart by the denial of orgasm. The head of the whip handle jabbed her cunt from behind. She had to obey, try to back onto it. She raised up on her knees, wagged her ass around, searching for the arrowhead shape on which she had to impale pussy.

Instead she heard the whip sing and Mrs. Claymore's grunt as she slashed the instrument, laying the knotted thongs on Janey's ass.

The pain was instant, as though turning wires had slashed her behind, cutting not just the skin but inches deep into flesh.

"No! No, please don't…"

Again the whip sang and Mrs. Claymore grunted, and the whip cut her ass-cheeks. Janey bit her wrist to hold back the screams of agony.

"There, sweetheart," Mrs. Claymore said. "Your first lesson. Now I will let you cum on the handle, if you beg me to."

"Yes, please!" Janey cried. "Please stick it into me!"

"Very well, little by little as I explain. You will be a Ribbon Girl, Janey. This is a ribbon-girl whip. The thongs are for punishment. The handle is your reward when you obey properly."

A Ribbon Girl, Janey thought. What's a Ribbon Girl?

Then the whip handle nuzzled at the mouth of her vagina. Quaking with eagerness, she held her breath, waiting for the teasing instrument to fill her pussy.

"There are two rules," Mrs. Claymore said. "First, obey. Second, ask no questions."

Slowly the artificial cock was wriggled up her cunt. Janey backed up, and now the woman held firm and filled her cuntal cavity. Janey's vaginal muscles clutched the bony thing. She pulled, and there was a glorious boiling inside, waves of heat slithering about the dildo.

"I'm cum-ming!" she cried.

She looked back and saw Mrs. Claymore kiss and lick her ass-cheeks. Those gentle kisses aroused the whip marks anew, made them burn, but the wrenching of her orgasm made her ignore those slashes of pain.

Moving back at the whip handle, jerking on it now, she felt the heat of her cum burn her body, making her toes and fingers spread tensely, burning her breast-tips, her face.

She shrieked at the unbearable ecstasy.

"That's it, precious, cum all you want," the woman murmured, still kissing Janey's buttocks. "My but your cunt is wet!"

Moaning, Janey surged over the peak, shuddered violently, then collapsed, falling flat on the bed.

All of her stung-up nerves had dissolved. Her cunt still palpitated on the phallus, which thankfully remained inside her pussy. Then tears came.

And she wept, sobbing loudly.

Her behind burned from the whipping. But the pain was less than that of the despair inside her, like a knife blade turning and cutting her flesh.

But she knew better than to ask questions.

Yes, she was learning.

"Go to the bathroom and wash the tears away," Mrs. Claymore said, her voice stem now.

Janey obeyed, went on shaking legs to the lavatory bowl and splashed cold water on her reddened cheeks.

When she returned, Mrs. Claymore was spilling the contents of the plastic bag on the bed.

"Janey, I noticed that your ears are pierced. That saves us the bother. Here, sit by me."

As Janey sat on the bed, the woman untangled a chain some two feet long. Each link was of a different color. There were hooks on the ends. These she slipped into the holes in Janey's ear lobes, then dropped the loop of chain to dangle on her breasts. The chain seemed to be made of featherweight plastic, for she felt no more pull on her ears than when she wore earrings.

Then the woman produced a skirt the like of which Janey had never imagined, but it explained the meaning of Ribbon Girl. It was composed of a belt from which hung dozens of silky ribbons, an inch wide and a foot long, every color of the rainbow.

"The waist is elastic. Step into it."

Janey climbed into the garment. Mrs. Claymore adjusted the waist, bringing it down just below her navel. The ribbons were just long enough to conceal her pussy.

Then sandals of woven leather, as colorful as the skirt and chain-necklace.

"Now, a touch of makeup and you are ready," the woman told her. "Eye shadow and lipstick will suffice."

Janey went to the vanity table and used the makeup. Her eyes, she saw, were wide with fear. She had to get a grip on herself to stop her hands from shaking.

She followed Mrs. Claymore out of the room. The hall curved. They passed several doors, then the woman paused. "I'd better look in on number three."

She put a brass key into a slit beside the door and turned it. As Janey watched, a panel moved away revealing a window.

"You might as well look in," Mrs. Claymore said. "This is a one-way viewer. The other side is a mirror."

Peering through, Janey saw a room exactly like her own. A red-haired girl, a Ribbon Girl with necklace chain, ribbon skirt and sandals, was mounted astride a naked man who knelt on the floor.

He was facing away. Janey could see only his bare ass, his dangling balls, his legs.

As she watched, the redheaded girl brought a strap down on his ass. When the leather fell away, it revealed a broad red stripe of welted flesh.

"I'll turn on the sound," Mrs. Claymore said, pushing a button.

Janey heard the girl's voice. "There, take that, you dirty bastard!"

The girl was facing the window. She raised the strap to strike again, licking her lips. She grinned.

A man's voice cried, "Oh, I deserve it. But don't hit me any more!"

The girl rubbed her crotch against him. "Do you feel my cunt on your back, you dirty pig? How would you like to eat my cunt?"

"No, no, I'm not a cunt-lapper!"

The girl struck his ass again, every muscle tensed, adding power to the belt blow. This one landed across the other stripe, leaving an X on his ass-cheeks.

"There!" she cried. "Now beg to lap my cunt, you shit! Or I'll piss on you. I'll turn you over and piss on your face!"

"Please! Don't make me do it, I've never lapped a woman's pussy…"

Mrs. Claymore turned the key and the panel slid back over the one-way mirror.

"Grace is doing very nicely in there. Very nicely indeed!"

Janey gasped. "But who – is he? Why – I mean – I know I shouldn't ask but…"

The woman sighed. "There you go, asking questions. Down on your knees, hands and knees, Janey."

Tears in her eyes, Janey whimpered. "Please don't…"

Abruptly the woman seized Janey's earring chain, wrapped it around her fist and pushed downward. The hooks tore cruelly at her ear lobes and she had to give way. She fell to the floor, cringing. She felt the whip handle sweep the ribbons aside, baring her ass.

Mrs. Claymore groaned. "How I hate to mark those luscious cheeks. Oh, Janey, if only you'd behave!"

The woman knelt beside her. The whip handle clattered to the floor and soft fingers roved Janey's buttocks. They settled in her cleft, stroked down to her anus. A fingertip circled it teasingly, making her asshole quiver, contract.

"Janey, perhaps I'll forgive you this once." She fingered down to Janey's cunt and stroked the hairy lips. "I should answer your question. That much is only fair. Well, the man in that room wants to be beaten. It is the only way he can get an erection. He's a very simple case, wants a girl to ride him, strap his ass – and his balls just a little – then to lap her. Do you think that odd?"

"It sounds crazy," Janey ventured, wondering at the dainty caresses on her ass and pussy lips, now light, gentle, and terribly exciting! A finger nipped into her slit, teased it to throbbing, then rose to her anus and massaged it until the pucker opened and admitted her fingertip.

The woman said, "It's really a quite ordinary twist. Now, precious, you'll have no closed-room work tonight." She paused. "What a sweet little anus you have." Then, "You'll take orders from Barbara, an Apron Girl. I'll give her explicit instructions."

"Apron Girl?"

"You'll see. Oh, sweetheart, I have such an urge to go down on your pussy, but we must hurry." She closed her hand on Janey's vulva and squeezed it. "Goodness, you're juicy again. You like my handling your goodies, don't you, precious?"

Janey had to admit she did like it.

"Then get up, darling, and we'll go out to the club…"

They rose, and Janey followed the woman down the curving hall.

CHAPTER THREE

The hall ended at a door that Mrs. Claymore pushed open. They went into a room with rainbow-striped wallpaper and low, ivory-gray divans. On one wall hung a whip like the one Mrs. Claymore carried.

"The Ribbon Girls' lounge," she said. "To the right, the john. The door ahead is to the club. Now, sweetheart, have you ever gone bare-breasted in public?"

"No!"

The woman eyed her. "I forgot to say you must address me as Ma'am, and you will call Apron Girls Miss. Miss Barbara is your leader. Now, wearing only ribbons you may be embarrassed at first, especially since people will stare at your lovely breasts. But that will pass. Walk chin-high, and if people make any requests of you, say that you must refer them to Miss Barbara."

Janey nodded. "I understand."

"Ma'am!"

"Yes, Ma'am, I understand."

"Make no mistakes with Apron Girl Barbara, or she'll bring you in here to the whip."

She pushed open the door to the club.

At first glance it appeared to Janey like any nightclub, low ceilings and muted light, reddish. Off to the left was a long bar, ahead some dozens of tables, booths on the right wall, and between a small dance floor. Soft music filled the place, and the murmur of voices. The crowd – most of the tables were filled – appeared quiet and well mannered, and from what Janey could see, expensively dressed. Most were couples, though the bar was populated largely by men.

She saw Ribbon Girls carrying trays of drinks and waiting on tables.

Mrs. Claymore nudged her to the left, to a little alcove where a tall, dark-haired girl stood, chin-high, surveying the crowd. She had a lovely, all-over tan. She wore a gold apron the size of a man's hand hanging from a gold chain over her crotch. She also had gold earrings, large gypsy loops. Seeing Mrs. Claymore, she moved quickly to her.

"Janey, this is Miss Barbara."

Janey thought Miss Barbara was utterly gorgeous. She had high breasts with big, protruding nipples, sleekly-rounded hips and long, long, tapering legs.

Barbara studied Janey, eyes narrowing. She nodded. "Very pretty, Mrs. Claymore. But we'll have to see, huh?"

"I'm sure that with your help she'll do very nicely, Barbara darling. Now, as I told you on the intercom, no closed room for her tonight. Just let her get used to things out here."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Mrs. Claymore left. The two girls stood staring at each other.

"Scared?"

Janey nodded, her lips trembling.

"Look, kid, you stay here in the alcove for a while, and watch. Pretty soon you'll see that going around bare-titted is no big thing."

Grateful, Janey edged back into the corner, a darkish place, and gazed wide-eyed at the scene in the club.

There were about a dozen Ribbon Girls waiting on the guests, and two Apron Girls besides Miss Barbara. The girls walked chin-high, just as Mrs. Claymore had ordered, smiling easily. When they bent over a table with a tray of drinks, ribbons sometimes slithered away baring a buttock or the cleft between. Yet none of the clients grabbed ass. Like the Ribbon Girls, they smiled, seemed at ease.

A few Ribbon Girls sat at tables or in booths and chatted briefly with clients. Of the several couples on the dance floor, one was a client with a Ribbon Girl.

The bar. Mostly men, but not entirely. The two bartenders were handsome fellows wearing what looked like black leotards, naked above the waist. One blond looked particularly attractive to Janey, green eyes and a broad, white-toothed grin. But the bar was now crowded enough that she had only occasional glimpses.

Her attention settled on Miss Barbara.

She guessed the girl was only a year or two older than herself, but, chin-high, smilingly poised, she made Janey feel like a child. She spoke with easy confidence to the three girls in her charge, and graciously greeted arriving clients, seated them, took drink orders that she relayed low-voiced to her underlings. She seemed unaware that her tanned body was clothed with only the patch of golden apron.

Her walk was seductive; her hips swayed but not provocatively. She walked with pride, with dignity.

At last she came to Janey and smiled ravishingly, saying, "I see you're more at ease. You've dropped your arms."

And Janey found she was no longer hugging her breasts.

"There's no hurry," Miss Barbara said. "We're not too busy at the moment."

Miss Barbara's kindly manner prompted Janey to voice the thousand questions that were on her tongue. But behind the girl was the work counter, and on a shelf below a ribbon-girl whip lay coiled. Seeing it, Janey clamped her mouth shut.

The girl's gaze switched from her to the front door of the club. New arrivals, three men and two women, shaking rain water off their coats, then handing them to a Ribbon Girl. So it's still raining out, Janey thought. She had scarcely thought about the outside world. But now she remembered Orvil, the terrible man in the pickup truck, and she shivered.

The new arrivals did not come to Miss Barbara's section.

Janey ventured, "The guests seem very nice. Quiet."

Barbara's eyes flicked and her mouth tightened. The statement had been very near a question. "They come from the Palm Cove Hotel which is a mile down the road. It's very exclusive, in fact stuffy. They come here to let off steam. I mean, the hotel has a famous golf course, indoor and outdoor pools, beachfront and all, but it attracts people with big money who are not flashy. They're so rich they don't want anybody to know it, you understand. Well, they come here to let it all hang out."

Puzzled, Janey said, "They don't act that way, I mean as though they're letting off steam."

"They save it for the closed rooms," Barbara said, turning away then and going off to a table where a man was signaling to her.

The closed rooms! Did she mean like what Mrs. Claymore had shown through the mirror window, the Ribbon Girl riding the naked man backward and strapping his ass?

Fear as cold and black as the bottom of a well settled into Janey's stomach.

She stood in her corner for an hour when Barbara at last said, "Get the drink order from table three, third down the aisle. Ribbon Girl Grace is off on an assignment."

Janey took a deep breath and launched herself shakily toward the aisle. She raised her chin, thinking: my breasts are firm and look good, but I wish they were smaller. People are staring! I'm walking into a roomful of eyes! They smile politely, but there's a man licking his lips and a woman, how dark her eyes had become, and her nostrils flare. Lesbian! Oh God, I'll bump into something, it's terrifying!

Reaching the table, she forced a smile. "Sir?"

"Three Scotch on the rocks, two old-fashioneds, darling."

"Yes, sir," she squeaked, and was turning away when he raised his hand, stopping her.

"You're new," he said. "May I ask your name?"

"Janey, sir."

"Well, Janey, you're a lovely thing and we're happy to have you as our Ribbon Girl."

She choked on the next words. "Thank you, sir."

The return to Barbara's station was no easier, a thousand eyes boring at her like spotlights, watching every bob and toss of her breasts. And the ribbons, were they covering her behind, her pussy? She could not guess from the feel for they slithered about with her movements, feathery, as light as currents of air.

"Three Scotch on the rocks and two old fashioneds," she gasped to Barbara.

The girl patted her hand. "Very good, sweetheart. And you looked adorable going out there. What a sexy walk!"

Sexy? Janey had thought her progress was a stumbling, shambling stagger.

"Now, Janey, I'll take care of their bill. You go to the bar for the drinks. There to the left, the Ribbon Girls' counter."

Again she left the alcove, heart hammering, face burning as she walked to the bar. She knew her breasts were as big as those of any ribbon or Apron Girl present, maybe the largest. They had been her pride, and she gritted her teeth and told herself, I have beautiful big boobs, I'll show them off the way Barbara does hers! Also, she felt sure that the slithering ribbons were spilling off and baring a buttock from time to time.

A boy she'd once had a hot affair with, Petey, used to call her Miss Tits and Ass.

The blond boy took her order, turned away swiftly and seized bottles from the shelf. In her confused state, she saw him as a blur but she did note that his broad chest was utterly hairless, and the crotch bulge in his black leotards appeared to be the size of a grapefruit.

As he loaded a tray with drinks, he leered at her breasts. He had red lips, a cupid's bow; lips a girl might envy, and which Janey did not quite like. His green eyes glinted. Cold!

"I'm Burt."

She hesitated, then mumbled, "Janey."

Staring at her breasts, he smiled. "Some jugs!"

Janey glowered at him. She could not help it. All her resentment, her fury at Orvil and the anguish of being whipped by Mrs. Claymore welled up in her and she stared daggers at him.

"If you like them, suck them!"

He drew back, surprised. Then an eyebrow rose sharply. "I guess you didn't know. So I'll tell you once. I'm apron."

Apron. She felt sure that meant he had whip rights.

"I didn't know," she choked.

"Sir," he snarled. "You call me sir. And Mr. Burt. You understand, cunt?"

"Yes!" Hurriedly she added, "Sir! Yes, sir. Mr. Burt."

"Then get going with these drinks. And if you spill any, you clumsy cunt, tonight I'll whip your ass bloody!"

Shaking with fear, she seized the tray of drinks and started back.

Perhaps Barbara had observed the incident, for she welcomed Janey back with the warmest of smiles and a caress on her back. "Sweetheart, our shift only lasts another hour. By then you'll have learned that it's all so easy."

Delivering the tray of drinks did seem easier, though when she leaned over the table, she saw her breasts hanging outward. A flush burned her eyes, down her throat, even washed pinkly over her tits.

"Five more minutes," Barbara said as Janey walked back to the alcove. "Then you and I will go to bed."

Janey's heart was hammering. Despite her experience with Marcia back home, lesbianism seemed foreign. Men, boys mostly, had been her sex objects, and her most satisfying orgasms had been when her cunt was filled by a good hard prick.

During the five-minute wait, her gaze washed over the Apron Girl. Barbara the beautiful, with her velvety black eyes, her glossy hair, her high, round breasts and long, long legs. Janey gazed with awe, a little fear, and much thankfulness for Barbara's sweet kindness. And something changed inside her.

But had Barbara meant they would go to bed together.

Midnight. Barbara turned her accounts over to another Apron Girl. Then she signaled to Janey to follow.

Heart thumping, completely indifferent now to clients' staring eyes, she followed the other out of the club to the Ribbon Girls' lounge, and through to the curving hall.

Barbara seemed headed for number six, Janey's room.

Trembling with excitement, Janey's gaze was fixed on the Apron Girl's bobbing, lush buttocks.

Janey's mouth watered. As they reached number six, she glimpsed an object in Barbara's right hand.

A coiled-up ribbon-girl whip.

CHAPTER FOUR

The door swung closed behind them. Barbara went to the table and poured some wine. "This is sweet and heavy, you'll like it."

She had laid the whip down beside the tray. She handed a glass to Janey, raised her own in a silent toast, and took a sip, after which Janey felt free to try it.

Sweet, yes. And warming.

Barbara's velvety eyes met hers. "Darling, what do you think of me?"

Janey looked away, blushing. "I think – you're wonderful – Barbara. I mean, Miss Barbara!"

"How prettily you blush!"

Janey bit her lip. "I've never felt – about a girl – I mean you're so gorgeous and strong, and kind. And…"

"Sexy? I do hope I'm sexy."

Janey could not look at her. She nodded, trying to swallow a lump in her throat. "I've never. Other girls… well there was one but… just one… kind of brief."

"How charming you are, sweetheart. Come, give me a kiss."

She took Janey's hand and drew her close. Blushing furiously, she still looked away when fingers touched her chin, and she was gazing into the other's eyes.

Their breasts touched. A jolt! Twin jolts, Janey's nipples prickling into soft flesh, growing, hardening, pulsing!

Then Barbara kissed her. Ups fluttered on Janey's. They felt creamy soft, slick.

The kiss flowed down her body, seeming to make her breasts swell, traveled lower and pulled at her vagina. Oh, that soft, sweet, urgent pull!

But her legs were sagging. She felt weak all over, and would have fallen if Barbara's warm arms had not encircled her and held her close.

At last, panting, she found herself nuzzling Barbara's cheek, one hand patting, caressing that glossy dark hair.

The Apron Girl whispered, "Sweetheart, you are indeed affectionate!"

"I think – I'm – in love with you," Janey gasped.

Barbara hugged her. "Janey, I adore your saying that. So sweet. But don't forget that I'm your Apron Girl, in charge, of your training. Sometimes I will have to whip you."

"I don't mind," Janey choked. "As long as it's you. I'll try to be just like you, Barbara – Miss Barbara. Ill try hard!"

"Still, it won't be all love and lightness. But you are my favorite Ribbon Girl, Janey. Come now, let's go lounge on the bed and drink our wine."

Janey did not want to part.

But Barbara turned away. Janey clung to her arm as they moved to the bed. There Barbara gently pushed her down, then went around the bed to finger a button on the wall that Janey had not previously noticed.

She heard the whir of an electric motor. Wall panels moved, then one above, on the ceiling, exposing huge mirrors aimed at the bed.

She guessed the mirrors were windows when viewed from the hall. But she cared little about that as she gazed at her lover, at Barbara's warm smile. Her nipples were erect now, so stiff and thick and long! Such graceful lines, broken only by the golden patch of apron where her belly flowed into her thighs.

Then Barbara came to her, sat on the edge of the bed, turning into her arms. Their mouths met, open, moist, Janey's tongue now the first to dart out and lick the sweetness of saliva tasting faintly of wine.

Again their breasts merged. Janey caressed the girl's sleek back, down to the hollow, traced the flare of her hips. She followed the crack down her rear, caressing the satiny cheeks, to her asshole, which she pressed, moved about.

"You horny child!" Barbara said with a laugh, breaking from the kiss, mouthing her throat. "Come now, we have our wine to drink." She grasped Janey's earring chain and lifted her away.

Janey had put her glass on the floor. She retrieved it. "If you loved me – as I do you – not that I ask it…"

"Don't," Barbara said, rather coldly. "Love is for equals. For you and me, sex will suffice. Still, I do feel affection for you. Now drink your wine."

Janey obeyed. Though Barbara had spoken harshly, Janey had felt a thrill at knowing they were not equals. Of course not! She was Barbara's slave. That was the important thing. And the wine, she found, was not only delicious but suffused her body with a new warmth, a languor, a peace.

"Of course we're not equals. I'm your Ribbon Girl." Then, smiling, Janey gazed down at their breasts, at her pink-capped white melons facing the berry-red nipples of Barbara's sun-browned tits. She cupped her own right breast and pressed it to the facing one, rubbing her nipple around Barbara's areola.

"Finish the wine," Barbara said.

The glass was large. Draining it, Janey put it and Barbara's on the floor. She tried to embrace, but Barbara grasped her chain, steered her, forced her down until Janey lay with her head on the gold apron, looking up between her lover's breasts.

Soft fingers stroked her forehead, then combed into her hair. Janey pressed her mouth to soft belly flesh, kissing it.

Her eyes closed. Utterly content Janey lay with her head on Barbara's lap. She could smell, faintly, the girl's femaleness, the slight but heady odor of her cunt.

A hand fell on Janey's breast, the palm rubbing her turgid nipple.

"Janey, you're content?"

She nodded vigorously.

A sigh. "There are moments like this. Not many. Tomorrow you'll start closed-room work. It may be harsh."

Janey didn't care. She nuzzled in firmer to her sweetheart's loins. She could sleep here, but did not want to sleep, wound her arms around sleek, cushiony hips and hugged, burying her face in belly.

"Raise up," Barbara said, a snap to her voice. "Suck my breasts."

Janey frowned. The sharp command was not necessary. It sounded as though her lover were trying to conceal her own affection through harshness. But Janey raised on an elbow. Barbara bent over her, breasts hanging.

When Barbara's nipple reached Janey's mouth; she closed her lips on the thick peg, pulled. The other's arm cradled her head. Thus, like a baby, she sucked the rubbery tit-end, opened her mouth and gulped more in, and licked what was in her mouth.

"Ahh-hh! So good! Janey, suck hard. My tits need pulling out, stretching. Oh, and licking. Lick my nipples!"

Janey's eyes closed and happily she mouthed and pulled and licked the succulent tit. She felt a hand grasp her own tits, clutching the ends of them together and tugging. She cupped her hand on the other brown breast and kneaded it, then moved to suck the tip of it.

"I'm getting hot," Barbara panted. "God, your sucking pulls right down to my cunt!" She hugged Janey's head in, groaning, and more vigorously now pulled Janey's nipples until they felt as long as a cow's tits. Luscious! Oh, wonderful!

Letting go the left breast, Janey rubbed her face over the firm orbs.

Abruptly Barbara cried, "Enough. That's enough, Ribbon Girl. You may undress me now."

Janey drew back. She looked down at the apron patch. There was a catch to one side. She squeezed it and the chain came free.

She had already guessed that Barbara had a mere tuft of pubic hair; Janey's own wide bush would never have been concealed by the tiny gold apron. But she saw only suntanned flesh, a protruding mound that was completely sleek and hairless. And her crotch was the same! She saw only flesh, cunt-lips free of hair.

"You're shaved!" Janey gasped. "Yes," Barbara said indifferently. "But are all Apron Girls shaved?"

There was no answer. Looking up, she saw Barbara's eyes narrowed with rage.

"You've been told so many times not to ask questions!"

"But… but… I was surprised…"

"Get the whip from the table."

Janey burst into tears. "But, Barbara…"

"Miss Barbara! That's two lashes!"

Cowering, weeping, Janey moved shakily toward the table, so broken by fear that she felt a dribble of piss on her thigh. And when she touched the handle of the whip, her bladder swelled and only by crossing her legs could she keep it from spraying out.

"I have to pee so bad!"

"Later. I'll teach you to control that, too. Bring me the whip!"

Pressing a hand to her crotch to hold in the piss, she grasped the whip handle, took it to her Apron Girl. For a moment the feel of the plastic handle strengthened her. She had a weapon. But what use was it in this place without windows, where the doors had no knobs only keyholes? And Barbara did care for her, she felt sure of that. Not love, but she had shown affection. "Raise your ribbon skirt to your armpits."

Janey did that, squeezing her thighs together, desperately telling herself, Miss Barbara won't hurt me! She's been sweet, she won't whip me hard! Thus, she fought the fear that was squeezing her bladder.

"My, but you're hairy-cunted!"

Janey saw herself in the wall mirror behind her, tears glistening on her cheeks, caning chain hanging on the ribbons streaming down her breasts. Thick hair between her legs – all that hair looked gross now. She had always been pleased with her mop of crotch hair. Boys had thought it terrifically sexy. But now her vision was entirely shaped to his woman she adored – and feared – and she wished she were like her, shaven, with a cunt as smooth as a child's.

A rivulet of piss dribbled down her thigh.

"On your knees," Barbara commanded, pointing at the floor with her whip handle.

Whimpering, Janey dropped down on hands and knees, her ass at the level of her lover's knees.

"You are riot to piss until I say to!" Barbara snapped, and when the whip sang through the air.

Janey bit her lip and a dozen streaks of fire curled about her buttocks, dug in, tore, each knot sinking into her flesh.

Despite her clenched jaw, she screamed in pain.

And again. "For not calling me Miss Barbara!" The singing cords crossed previous welts, cutting deep and Janey heard her own shrill scream echoing off the walls.

Piss splashed on her leg.

"Now go squat on the john, but don't piss until I give the order," her mistress said coldly.

Janey scrambled up, clutching her pussy, ran bowlegged to the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet, still holding it in, though piss dribbled out on her fingers.

She waited. Her ass burned as though she had sat on hot coals, but the greater pain was her bursting bladder. Gritting her teeth, she fought to hold it in, choking back her cries.

"Please, now? Now can I pee? Please, darling Miss Barbara…"

It seemed hours before she heard, "Now. Go on, Miss."

Her adored mistress had spoken, and Janey's relief was so great that she laughed through tears.

It burst from her, a geyser blasting at the bowl, splashing all over her legs. Then it hosed into the water below, a loud splattering, gurgling, foaming turmoil, quarts and gallons, a flood gushing out of her.

She was still laughing. She had taken her punishment. Now would her Apron Girl love her? Take her back into those warm arms, hug and kiss her as before? Call her sweetheart, darling?

Miss Barbara spoke. "After you've washed up, come in here and lap my cunt."

Janey shivered with delight.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Bring the decanter. I'll have more wine," Miss Barbara said.

Janey took her empty glass back to the table with the decanter. Then she began pulling the ribbon skirt down into position.

"No," her mistress said. "Leave it up. I want to study your pubic hair. There's too much of it. And yet, some clients are turned on by that. I'll have to think it over…"

Janey returned, gazing at Barbara's sleek vulva, wondering if she should kneel. "Darling, lie as before, head on my lap. I want to explain some things to you."

Janey curled up on the bed, head on those sleek, warm brown thighs, gazing at the plump cunt-mound, her nostrils wrinkling as the scent of pussy, stronger now, became as exciting as wine.

A caressing hand slipped under the ribbons and roved her breast, the touch so gentle, so sweet, that Janey knew she was back in her mistress's good graces.

"Sweetheart, I know that you love me, and you'll do your best to obey. Then I'll be able to love you back. Not as an equal, of course. As I might a puppy dog, or a kitty. Yes, as my own sweet darling pussy." Barbara moved her hand down Janey's body and patted her crotch.

Janey spread her legs to receive the caress, became thrilled when Barbara gave her cunt-lips a little squeeze.

"That," her lover said, "is my pussy to dispose of. Nobody touches it without my permission. Or, of course, Mrs. Claymore."

Janey shivered. "The bartender, he became angry when I called him Burt and didn't say Mr.. But I didn't know!"

"He will not whip you unless I allow it. Of course you didn't know! But do be careful with him because if he does whip you, hell leave terrible welts, probably make your ass bleed. Only if he proves you've misbehaved, of course."

Relieved, Janey placed a kiss on Barbara's clit.

Yes, Barbara would protect her! She had only to obey. Gazing at the clit, she tongued it. Oh, she wanted to get down lower where that scent came from. It was driving her wild! But she must not demand.

Daringly, Janey extended her tongue down the cuntal crease and tasted the ooze. Salty, tangy, exciting!

Barbara's thigh spread. Janey's mouth closed on fleshy upper cunt-lips and tugged.

"You horny thing!" Barbara laughed, favoring Janey with a flat-handed rub on her hairy twat. "You are so eager. Well, go down on your knees and eat me."

Janey scrambled to the floor and thrust in between her mistress' spread legs. Shouldering Barbara's thighs, Janey kissed the satiny inner surfaces while eyeing her ovaled, hairless lips. Even they were suntanned. At the top, in the notch, rose the largest clitoris she had ever seen. Janey teased it with her tonguetip and it bulged, firmed, almost like a nipple, but so slick that it was utterly uncontrollable. Her tongue licked it with rapid flicks, tasting the delicious fluids.

Finally Janey managed to close her lips on it, to suck it in firmly.

But then Barbara, moaning, squirmed in ecstasy and she lost it!

"Ohh-hh, Janey! You'll pull my clit right off!"

"It keeps escaping," Janey said, giggling with excitement as she sucked on the elusive clit.

"Honey, oh darling, that's so good! I'll have you lap me every night."

"I want to," Janey murmured, again capturing it, sucking rather hard while clinging to her lover's thighs to keep her squirms from yanking away the dainty tidbit.

"Janey, do you love me, sweetheart?"

"I'll show you how much," Janey gasped, swabbing the oily clit with the flat of her tongue, then nuzzling downward, licking over the firmness of the pisshole, then the slippery, wobbly inner labia.

"Oh, yes, my kitten, my own little pussy, you do love me, I can feel it the way you are sucking my cunt, my pussycat love!"

Barbara's hole was gaping, a red ring with glistening darkness within, where Janey sent her tongue twirling, fluttering, wagging. Then she felt Barbara's hands on her neck, pulling her in, squeezing her face into Barbara's cunt.

"I'll cum!" the girl shrieked. "Oh, spin it around my hole like that, sweetheart, around the walls. My God, it's better than any cock, it's so tantalizing! Now drink my juices, pussycat, suck my cunt!"

Janey forced her yawning mouth to surround the hairless lips and drew in the entire lower vulva, while stretching her tongue out. She began to suck, swallowing sex liquids.

"Aggh-hhh!" her mistress cried, yanking at her neck, drawing her in. "You darling, oh I don't want to whip you my pussycat, but don't misbehave, be good and obedient. Oh, now, I'm cum-ming! Yes! Drink my juice, suck me dry!" Then, wrenching about, shoving her cunt at Janey's face, she groaned, "But I do want to whip you, so you'll love me. Yes, I want to whip you!"

Her heels were braced on Janey's back. She began humping, strong fuck thrusts, each seeming to spill a new flood of juice into Janey's mouth.

"Cum-ming!" she moaned. "Yes, you'll go down on me every night, pussycat. Oh, it is so glorious to cum like this! Now! Now! Now!"

With that she humped once more, heels digging frantically at Janey's back.

Then she collapsed and lay flaccid, panting.

Janey found herself equally exhausted. But she could not leave the lovely, shaven pussy. She continued licking slowly, letting her mistress slip gently down from the peak of her orgasm.

She still knelt there, kissing the slippery little man and then lapping juices, when she heard chimes ring.

Groaning, Barbara raised on her elbows. "Who is it?"

A hoarse male voice. "Burt. Mrs. Claymore sent me."

Barbara sighed deeply. "Come in, then."

Janey began to rise up to look, but Barbara pressed her back down between her legs.

She heard him say, "You got wine, huh?"

"Take some, Burt."

Janey wound her arms around her lover's thighs and clung, face in her cunt, afraid now. Why was Burt here? To whip her?

"You're off duty?" Barbara asked. "When I get done here."

"Burt, there's no need."

"What Mrs. Claymore says."

"Look, I assure you everything will be perfect."

She stroked Janey's head. "I mean, as Mrs. Claymore herself knows, Janey has a delightful cunt. And as to her willingness, her obedience, I've never had a Ribbon Girl come along so quickly."

"Orders are orders."

"Burt, I really don't want to be interrupted. She's been giving me the most beautiful lapping. I want to cum a few more times before I go to bed."

"This is fucking good wine," he said. "Hey listen, your new cunt there snotted off at me tonight."

"She told me. She's sorry, didn't know you were apron."

"I ought to give her a couple of good cuts just the same."

"If you do, I'll lay a whiplash on your mouth!" Janey hugged Barbara and nuzzled deeper into the soft wetness of her pussy. But, at last, curiosity made her twist around to see him.

He stood up by the table drinking wine. Instead of black leotards he wore an apron, hanging like Barbara's from a gold waist chain.

He was grinning. His green eyes glinted devilishly, and in fear Janey hugged her mistress harder.

"Mrs. Claymore told me to fuck her. So I'm going."

He dropped a hand to the catch at the corner of his gold apron and fucked the catch. He tore it away and threw it on the table, revealing the longest limp cock Janey could have ever imagined. It seemed to hang halfway to his knee, though the skin was wrinkled and only the pink tip of the head showed beyond the enveloping foreskin.

Sipping at his wine glass, he came toward him, the dangling cock swaying.

"Orders," he said.

"Well, I'm annoyed," Barbara told him. "This disrupts everything. It takes me a while to get in the mood for head. I've had just one cum, that's all. One delicious cum." Barbara caressed Janey's cheek and pressed her inward.

"You know it's standard for me to fuck new cunts, find out if they're a good piece of ass. You want to complain, go see Mrs. Claymore."

"No. It's ruined anyway. And you're right, Janey has to be tested. But it is a pain in the ass and I'll tell her that tomorrow."

He shrugged. "Hey, Ribbon Girl, go get me a refill."

Barbara went rigid. "Get your own, you cocksucker! You don't give orders to my Ribbon Girl!"

He laughed. "Shit, the way you're taking on she must be the best cunt lapper in the place, outside of Mrs. Claymore." He went off to the table, his stride arrogant. He refilled his glass and drink it down in a gulp.

Then he grasped his cock. Inches of it hung limply over his knuckles. He chuckled. "It's soft. She'll have to suck it hard."

"Of course," Barbara said.

Tears streamed down Janey's cheeks. She would rather take another whipping!

Barbara had forced her away and Burt came toward her, his soft meat tossing about with his stride. His body was almost hairless, though his pubic ruff was a thick, yellow mass. Handsome, yes, but those lips were somehow cruel, and so too the green glint of his eyes.

He stopped, his cockhead inches from her face.

She had never sucked one. Petey used to beg her to. She had loved playing with Petey's tool, had let him place it between her breasts, which she would squeeze in on it, loving that. But suck it?

"Come on," he grunted. "I haven't got all night to waste here."

"Yes, hurry up," Barbara added.

Janey was gagging at the thought of it. She fingered his cock. Loose skin. She tried to peel the foreskin back from the head but it was too snug.

He laughed. "The head will grow out in your mouth."

"Go ahead, darling," Barbara said. "You've been very obedient. I don't want to have to whip you again."

Janey closed her eyes and brought the boy's cockhead to her lips. She stuffed it in. Her stomach heaved. She fought it down, eyes watering, gave a quick suck.

She felt his hands seize her hair, and twist. "Go on, cunt, suck my meat!"

She did it, oh she did it, stuffed more limp cock into her mouth, gagging on it, fighting her heaving stomach. She closed her hands on the length of his prick, listing tightly.

"That's more like it," he grunted.

And then it began to stiffen, growing turgid, alive in her hands and her mouth. A change came over her. How often had she massaged Petey's limp prick, and those of other boys, and thrilled when blood surged into them and they hardened!

Like that. It was real meat now, real cock, and in her mouth the slick head began to bulge, shedding the foreskin. It was firm enough that she could set her teeth against the skin, forcing it back, get more cock-head, growing as big as a plum, into her mouth.

She was suddenly excited. She grasped his scrotum and joggled his testicles in her hand.

He gasped. "Hey, Barbara, this cunt could make a blowjob artist, you know?"

"I told you she's a hot piece. But you wouldn't listen. You still had to test."

Slowly the foreskin drew back, and Janey licked the plushy head that filled her mouth, while squeezing the shank and toying with his nuts.

"Honey baby," Barbara said. "You look as though you enjoy sucking Burt's tool."

"Yes!" she gasped out of the corner of her mouth, wondering why she had shied away from this. Oh, she hated Burt, feared him, but she had a cock and balls in her possession, completely hers to suck and jerk off, to excite. It stood out before her, the skin smooth, so terribly long, as though a foot of cock extended from her mouth.

And his nuts, she wanted to mouth them too.

But not until she was denied this fat, delicious, slippery head, which she curled her tongue around between long, hard sucks.

"Shit," Burt said. "This is so good I might just let her blow me all the way."

"You came here to fuck her," Barbara snapped.

"Yeah. You're right."

He yanked his cock out of Janey's mouth.

It stood before her face, the head angry red, the shank a long, long up curve.

She plunged to it, mouth yawning, hot now to suck it.

But Burt shoved her away.

CHAPTER SIX

Whimpering. Janey gazed up at the magnificent cock, jerking stiffly now as he moved, his nuts jostling about in the fine-skinned pink scrotum.

She wanted it, wanted to suck it!

He seized her arm, jerked her up and threw her onto the bed. "On your knees!" he cried. "That ass of yours, shit what a nice big ass! Squeeze up to it – man, that looks good."

Janey kept on the bed, her back to him.

"No!" Barbara cried.

Janey saw herself in the mirrors, on hands and knees, her breasts hanging, the white globes of her ass up high. In this position her hairy cunt-lips protruded. Janey knelt doggy-style waiting for a cock to be stuck up her gaping hole, a slave to the lusts of others!

"Shit what a hairy twat!" Burt chuckled. "She's got cunt hair as long as my fucking fingers. That's some nest."

"Well, I like it," Barbara said.

"Oh, it will turn on plenty of 'em. But I like a shaved cunt. Barbara, how about I poke her a couple and then fuck you?"

"Up your ass!" the girl snarled. "Go on, get to it, you prick!"

Burt ran his hands over Janey's ass globes. "Go finger fuck yourself, Barbara. Christ, this cunt has her lips hanging wide open and dribbling drool down her leg. You must've been eating her, Barbara."

"You turd, you know I don't lap pussy."

"Well, let's see how her hole feels."

He fisted his cock, and as Janey watched in the mirror, holding her breath, he steered it in between those hairy lips and pressed the mouth of her cunt.

"Snug," he muttered. "Christ, you'd think you could put your fist in, the way her cunt looks."

"She has a lovely cunt, Mrs. Claymore said."

Janey, hearing them discuss her as though she were an animal, felt tears well in her eyes. How foolish she had been to run away from home! And yet she had known some moments of bliss here, safe between Barbara's legs, nuzzling her sweet pussy, protected. And Barbara had said she wanted it every night.

Now the cockhead was lodged in the mouth of her cunt. He lubricated it, cranking his cock around, and it did stimulate her.

When he pushed onward she began fluttering inside, eager for more penetration.

How can I be so debased, she thought, that I want this evil boy's cock inside me?

Yet she did. She was squirming, and now backing to it! Forcing herself backward, impaling herself on the unbelievable length of man meat!

Burt seized her hips, gave a grunt and shoved brutally.

Janey cried out. Hurt! A foot of cock had plunged up her fuckhole, filling her, stretching her. She tried to pull away but he held her in an iron grip. And then, oh God, the worst shame of all, her vaginal muscle, clutching the bony shank, and pulled, milking it!

"Hey, she's got a snapper!" he laughed. "Shit, Barbara, what a cunt I'm stuck into, pulls like a calf sucking a tit!"

Janey, blushing with shame, saw her mirror self begin moving, rocking back and forth on that long, horny prick.

Yes, she was shoving back, impaling herself on his cock, gasping with excitement as she eased off, then hurrying back, ramming, flattening her ass-cheeks against his belly.

"Janey cunt, you like that cock, huh?"

She gritted her teeth. In the mirror she saw her breasts swinging as she rocked back and forth. And the heat inside, the quirks and pulls, the seething, scorching feel of her cunt sucking that awesome tool!

Then she glimpsed Barbara's face.

The girl's eyes had narrowed and darkened with lust. She was licking her lips. She had a hand between her legs and was squeezing her shaven pussy.

"Burt, maybe I changed my mind. It makes me so horny watching you fuck her. Look, you've done enough. You can tell Mrs. Claymore she has a terrific cunt."

"I gave you your chance," he said.

"Come on, you said you'd rather fuck a shaven pussy. Burt, quit it and give me some meat!"

Janey, ramming back at him, felt it all boil up and begin to spit and surge, out of control, her cunt and clit at the same time pulsing on a single hot wave. The wave flew up and engulfed her titties, the caps bulging out dark red, the nipples appearing long enough to rake the bed. The flush of orgasm burned her face and seeped down to her violently-lurching breasts.

"My cum!" she moaned.

"Shit, she's gushing all over me!"

He had the rhythm of her fuck now. He was yanking her hips as she thrust back, hurtling in, his cock squishing loudly in her pooling juices.

"Harder!" she cried. "Please fuck me harder, Burt – I mean Mr. Burt. Oh please, Mr. Burt, stick your tool up my hole hard…"

He was laughing as he rammed in, swatting loudly against her spread ass-cheeks, his balls whacking her belly.

"Ah-hhh!" Janey moaned as the second scalding wave flashed through her and she scaled the hump. She was screeching.

Barbara cried, "Burt, honey, you got to save me some! Oh Christ, I'm hot and here I sit finger-fucking myself!"

That was the last Janey heard except for her own echoing cries as the flashing waves of orgasm took her down the slope beyond the peak.

She was collapsing. She flopped from her doggy stance. Down flat, sprawled on the bed, panting.

But still Burt's cock slid in and out of her gushing fuckhole.

When she came to, her cunt was throbbing.

Burt stood by the bed, hips forward, which made his erection appear to jut out unbelievably. Gazing at it, from the fiery red flare of the head, back the rigid down curve to where wet pubic hair masked the root, Janey wondered how her cunt could have contained that prodigious length. But it had, for the entire tool glistened with her cunt-juice.

Barbara lay on her back, legs up, finger-fucking herself. "Please, Burt, I've got to have your cock up my hot hole!"

He grinned, then shrugged. "Well, okay. Turn over. I fuck doggie. That keeps me free, all I see is ass."

"Please mount me, Burt honey. I need weight on my clit to make me come. Huh? Climb onto me, sweet man."

"Look, you like shaved cunts. Like this – you can look down and see it. And darlin' boy, your cock is so long that behind you'll get only half into me. I mean, my ass will be in the way. Mount me and I'll take your whole prick inside. I bet I'm the only girl here, apron or ribbon, that can."

"Well…"

"Don't be afraid I'll kiss you, and get lovey, I know you don't want to get tanged with any girl. It's just fucking, I just want you to mount me so you can squeeze my clit. Huh?"

"All right. But no kissing."

Barbara squealed with delight. She grasped her feet and drew them toward her and far apart, completely opening her cunt to him.

Burt knelt, steering the astonishing length of his cock at Barbara's vulva.

The head slipped in.

Janey was biting her lip, anguished, for that space between her Apron Girl's legs belonged to her. But that luscious split was being violated, bony cock now stretching it, reshaping the vaginal gap to a glistening coral oval.

Barbara completed the betrayal by groaning loudly. "Honey boy, that's the strongest cock I've ever had up my hole!"

He laughed. "Shit, you've only got six inches in your cunt."

Barbara, still clutching her feet, raised her head to gaze down her belly at the cock now fucking in and out of her.

She panted. "Give me all of it, honey boy, squeeze my clit and shoot me off through my cum, honey boy!"

The husky warmth of her voice, and the softness of her gaze when she looked up at his green eyes wounded Janey.

As a mere slave of a Ribbon Girl, Janey could in no way protest the coupling of the two aprons.

He grunted, shoved, drove his prick in until his pubic hair mashed Barbara's hairless vulva.

The girl shrieked and clamped her long legs about him, ankles hooking together. Braced, she humped, squirmed, ground her cunt at his loins.

"Cum-ming!" she cried.

"Cum, baby," he laughed. He propped himself up, straight-armed, hands splayed on the mattress.

She seized his shoulders and clawed, trying to bring him down on her.

"Hey," he said, "no kissie, dig? Like you said, it's just a fuck…"

"Yes, just a fuck, the best fuck of my life!" Barbara choked. "Come down on my tits, squash them, honey boy. Oh please, they're bursting come down on my tits!"

Janey, tears in her eyes knew before Burt what the girl wanted, saw it happen as he gave in, collapsed on her, squirming on the voluptuous cushions of her tits.

Then her mouth sucked his.

A kiss? A seizure, lips enveloping his, a tongue driving out into his throat.

They stilled except for the quivering of Barbara's hips as she jerked through her orgasm.

The kiss ended. He was smiling down at her, the icy glint gone from his eyes. He kissed the tip of her nose, then she pecked his chin, and slowly, luxuriantly her arms wound about his neck.

She whispered, "One fuck won't be enough tonight."

"I guess not."

She slid a heel down his spine to his buttocks. With a sudden laugh she mouthed his ear, and Janey saw her screw her tongue into it.

"You want another aim, Barbara?"

She shrugged. "I don't care. Just so your cock is inside me."

"It's plenty steamy. I could shoot my load pretty quick."

She licked his ear. "If you want."

"But don't you need more cums?"

"I'll go off wildly when you spill your nuts. Anyhow, we're going to sleep together, huh? I'll get all I need, and probably wake up with cock inside me."

He grinned. "That's a deal."

Janey, ignored, not even existing to them, had never felt so lonely in her life.

Suddenly his hips were jerking.

Barbara tensed, went wide eyed as his bony cock began plunging in and out of her. She bit her lip, flushed, and when he banged her open cunt, she shrieked and arched up, bruising herself on his loins.

"Honey boy, you're making me cum!"

He went into long slams, the inflamed head of his cock moving out of her on each stroke, carelessly flinging back in, the entire length sludging to the heart of her belly.

He was howling.

Then his arms plunged under her back, scooped her up, raised Barbara from the bed as he went stiff all over holding the girl impaled on his ferocious fuck tool.

"Take my load!" he shouted.

Barbara, half out of her mind with joyful orgasm, kissed his mouth and cheeks and eyes and clung, knotted to him as his load blasted up her cunt.

Their collapse was violent, like a tumble off a cliff, a slamming down on the bed, both panting hoarsely.

Sobbing, Janey watched them smiling at each other, caressing tenderly exchanging love bites on throat and cheeks.

He whispered, "Go to your room now?"

Barbara nodded. "Yes, honey boy."

He raised up, pulling his still-erect cock out of her cunt with a slick noise. He gazed down at it. Globs of his creamy spew lathered it to the root.

Barbara said, "My Ribbon Girl will suck it clean, honey boy. Janey, go at it, lap the goo."

Tears spilled from Janey's eyes. My Ribbon Girl, Barbara had called her. A Ribbon Girl was handy to have about, a slave to clean cocks.

She remembered her pleasure in mouthing Burt's meat after her sucking had hardened it. And there would be the beloved taste of Barbara's cunt-juice. No, she did not mind. What bothered her was their treating her like an animal, as Barbara had put it like a puppy dog or pussy cat.

Burt stepped to her. She grasped the slippery length and mouthed the side of the shank, licking and sucking the white goo off, first around his pubic hair, then out the stem, saving the head as though it were a choice tidbit that she now popped into her mouth. With tongue and lips, she sucked his prick clean.

The smell of Barbara's cunt was strong, nose-tingling, and she sobbed at being denied the right to get to its source.

"Babs, honey, she sucks so good we should bring her to your room, get me hard again so I can fuck you."

"I have a mouth, honey boy," Barbara said, rising now and wrapping an arm about him.

Naked, the two turned away and walked out, Burt fondling the girl's ass cheeks.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Janey slept.

Rather, she screamed her way through a nightmare in which, shivering in icy rain, she thumbed a lift from a pickup truck and a grinning man tore her shirt open and spilled her breasts out into the hands of Barbara, who spat on them and turned to the man and opened his pants and yanked out his cock. She then made Janey suck it.

Janey awoke hearing a cheery voice.

"Janey, hey! You luscious twat you!"

She awoke with a start, jerked upright in bed, staring at a red-haired Ribbon Girl who stood, feet planted apart, knuckles on hips, grinning at her. Freckle-faced, twinkling eyes, smallish. Pretty breasts, her ribbons in careless disarray, exposing a patch of curly chestnut-colored pussy hair.

Janey had seen her once before, when she and Mrs. Claymore had gazed through the one-way window into the room, saw her mounted backwards on a naked man, strapping his ass.

"I'm Gracie Mac," she said. "But just Gracie, huh? They don't let you keep your last name here. Mine's MacKenzie, but forget it. Anyhow Mrs. C. told me to wake you up, it's noon. I brought coffee and hot rolls and jam so you better get your ass out of bed or I'll eat it all."

Her grin, the friendly twinkle of her eyes, charmed Janey. But she had learned caution. She had a thousand questions to ask, but questions were forbidden. She frowned, studying the delightful, impish redhead.

"I'm not supposed to ask questions."

Gracie laughed. "Oh, fuck! I'm just ribbon like you. Ask anything. Like how does my cunt feel? Same as always, horny."

Janey burst into laughter.

"Come on," Gracie said. "Rolls are hot, and I mean we have the best baker, supplies the hotel, too. Strawberry jam because it's my favorite but also orange marmalade."

Janey left the bed and joined her, feeling immensely relieved by the girl's carefree manner, which seemed to proclaim that here at Palm Cove things were not so bad after all. Still, she was not used to the strangeness of their costumes.

Then hunger, not quite satisfied by last night's supper, got to her, and she wolfed down rolls smeared with jam and gulped hot, very good coffee.

Finally she asked, "Gracie, did Orvil bring you here."

The other shook her head. "No. A cop."

"A cop!"

"Yeah, he arrested me for vagrancy at the bus station in town. I said, so throw me in jail, at least you got to feed me. Was I ever hungry! See, I came down here a couple of months ago and got a job waiting table in a greasy spoon. I had to fuck with the owner and what a shit he was, but then he wanted me to fuck friends of his and I got fed up. I was trying to cadge a bus ticket to anywhere when the cop hauled me in, but he didn't take me to jail, brought me here."

"So the cops work with Mrs. Claymore!"

"Sure. Some nights you'll see the chief of police out in the club, and the county sheriff too."

"So we're like trapped."

"You better believe it, Janey." Gracie stuffed a roll in her mouth. "But it's warm and you eat well. And we have a great indoor swimming pool. All you have to do is learn to behave so you don't get whipped. Gee, the first week my ass felt like it was on fire day and night."

"You never go outside?"

Gracie shrugged. "They say the weather is lousy anyway. That's what the aprons say. They can go out any time they're not on duty."

Janey pondered that. "How do you get to be an apron?"

Gracie laughed. "Ask an Apron Girl, and get your ass beat."

"You mean, it's like a secret?"

"You better believe it. And like where's the clothes you came here wearing? And where's the keys to these doors without knobs? The Ribbon Girls don't know and the aprons don't tell. So make the best of it, Janey."

Finished eating, the girl took a cigarette from a pack on the breakfast tray, and lit it.

She rose, "Got to pee."

Janey watched her friend hook her thumbs into the waistband of her ribbon skirt, stretch it and with a single movement lift it to her armpits. The ribbons now dangled above her navel.

Gracie threw the bathroom door open and squatted on the john.

"When you're done eating, Janey, we'll go have a swim, huh?"

Janey nodded. "But Grace, listen. How about the closed rooms? I mean I saw you last night riding that guy…"

"People are nutty. You wouldn't believe what turns them on. The other night I went all wrapped up in chains, and the guy got so horny it looked like his cock would burst. He was panting just looking at me – and the chains, maybe just the chains – and drooling and grinning all strange, his mouth slobbery. And there was a woman – I had to tickle her cunt with a lily."

"A lily?"

"I mean the flower part, a white one. Mostly these nuts are harmless, but the biters scare me."

Janey shuddered.

"The guy you saw me strapping, he hollered louder and louder how bad he'd been and needed punishment. Then all of a sudden he came, not jerking off or anything, just spurted all over the floor. He gave me a twenty-dollar tip."

Janey frowned. "Do you have a place to keep money? I mean, wearing just ribbons and necklace chain…"

The girl smiled ruefully. "Each apron has a little pocket in it, that's where the tips go. We're supposed to get paid, but nobody knows how much, and anyhow, you can't spend money. Everything's free."

"But if you got out – escaped – you'd have no money."

"And you'd be walking down the highway wearing a ribbon skirt. So forget that. Live every day as it comes. One thing sure, it's always different."

They left the room, went down the curved hall past the door to the Ribbon Girls' lounge, past other doors without knobs. The hall appeared to curve in an S shape of blank walls and doors. They had not reached the end when Gracie pushed a door open, took them through an anteroom to another door. Beyond it was a pool.

Janey gaped. The pool was kidney-shaped. The room's entire roof was glass, through which could be seen a turquoise sky. About the pool were small tables, lounge chairs, mats. On the far side a ping-pong table where two naked girls were playing. Other girls swam or loafed about the edges. But most remarkable was an alabaster statue of a girl squatting on the pool edge pissing a constant stream of blue water.

Janey giggled. Then she pointed upward. "Blue skies! Gosh, somebody in a helicopter could see right in."

"It's fake. It looks the same at night," Gracie said. She was removing her earring necklace. Janey did the same. When they were nude, Gracie laced her fingers into Janey's and led her toward the pool. There a tall blonde girl was climbing out of the water. She smiled at Gracie, who waved back. "She's my apron," Gracie whispered.

Janey noticed that the girl's pubes were shaven as cleanly as Barbara's. "Do all the aprons shave their pussy hair?"

"Uh-huh. But some ribbons, too." She pointed at one of the ping-pong players, a brunette with a slick, shiny pussy, not a hair on the plump lips.

Then, standing there on the edge of the pool Janey felt a slap on her behind – Gracie's hand.

The girl laughed as Janey, laughing, toppled into the pool.

Strangely, Janey was enjoying herself.

Here, she could barely remember the nightmare of he capture by Orvil, or even the whip lashes on her behind. She and Gracie swam, played ping-pong, then shot pool at the table in an anteroom. She quickly overcame her uneasiness at being stark naked. It did not seem to matter, not after seeing bobbing bare titties all about. Even when they danced to rock music in an anteroom, hard rock to which they danced wildly with elbows churning, breasts leaping crazily about – it all seemed quite natural.

Then the record was changed and dreamy-slow dance music came from the loudspeakers.

Two other pairs of girls were dancing. They melted into each other's arms. Blushing, Janey glanced at Gracie.

The redhead was holding her hands. "Come on," she said. "Unless – I mean, do girls turn you off?"

Janey let the redhead slip into her arms. As their breasts met, a jiggly cushiony joining, she thought of last night with Barbara, and how cruelly the girl had finally rejected her.

But Gracie was ribbon, now breathing warmly on Janey's throat, her pubic fluff brushing Janey's thigh.

By the time the first song was through, Janey decided it was very sweet, tender, a delightful sharing. But was it permitted? "We won't get into trouble over this?"

"Oh, no. Mrs. Claymore likes the girls to pair off as lovers. See, that's why she had me bring your breakfast. She said maybe we'd be happy together. Do you think so?"

Janey, blushing, looked aside and saw one pair of dancing girls kiss, or rather tongue-tease each other, their lips not meeting. In this strange place it seemed natural. She needed a friend, and now that she was accustomed to the warm, jiggly cushion of their breasts, Gracie's belly against hers, the caresses of arms, the nudge of thighs, she could think of nothing nicer.

She rubbed her chin on Gracie's velvety cheek. "I want to be your lover, Gracie. That is – if you…"

"Oh, yes!" The girl looked up, eyes twinkling. "I'm so lucky! Kiss me?"

The kiss was like the one Janey had observed, tongues extended. A terrible tease! It made her pull at Gracie's waist, joining their bellies firmly together. Not dancing now, they prolonged the tongue tease until Janey could no longer endure it.

Janey grasped the girl's satiny buttocks and lifted until their hairy pubes met, when she gave a shudder, groaned with pleasure. She felt so hot inside!

Gracie's eyes were sparkling when they resumed dancing, so close now, sealed together from cheeks to thighs. "I never had a lover, I mean plenty of girls but not like this, not like everybody can call us a pair, Janey and Gracie."

The music ended. They stood embracing.

"Come to my room?" the redhead whispered.

"Yes!"

Arms about each other, they left the pool area.

In the hall Janey remembered their nudity.

"Shouldn't we be wearing our ribbons and things?"

"Doesn't matter here in the hall. I have extras in my room."

Gracie's place was exactly like her own. The girl went to the wall at the end of the bed and pushed a button. Panels slid aside revealing mirrors.

Janey frowned. "I don't like people looking."

Her lover placed a finger on her lips. "Sh-hhh! The rooms are all bugged. And if Mrs. Claymore found us here with the panels closed, she'd whip our asses bloody."

Janey did not like being on display, but then Gracie slipped into her arms. Kissing the redhead, rubbing her mound on the other, she decided it did not matter who watched. It was not forbidden and Janey found that her reluctance concerning lesbian love was fast dissipating. Sure, she had always thought of sex as a cock in her cunt, but stroking Grace's slender back, exploring the soft, very female swells of her ass, she was glad her lover was a woman. There could be no arrogance of ruthlessly poking cock; instead, a sharing.

Grace's hands had slipped up between them, kneading their merged breasts. "Everybody was talking about your tits, Janey. And I want to – on the bed…"

"Yes!"

They moved to the bed and flopped down, Grace across seizing a breast in both hands.

A pale pink tongue circled the nipple, and Janey gasped as moist heat seeped in, stiffening her nipple. Gracie rubbed her cheeks on it, then abruptly seized the nipple in her lips and sucked.

The pull drew deep into Janey's body, producing a fluttering sensation in her cunt that made her grunt with surprise.

She fingered into the other's red hair, silky, sensual stuff that clung to her fingers. Grace sucked again, and Janey gasped. "Ooooh, honey! That makes my pussy quiver!"

Her lover raised up, smiling, glanced down her body at the fluffy tan pubic bush. She lightly fingered Janey's pussy lips.

Janey squirmed, tantalized by the light, slithering caresses. She drew Grace's head down to her breast and poked the nipple into her mouth. Her lover moaned and her mouth sucked the swollen red cap and tugged, which made Janey quiver all over and arch, pressing her hot cunt to the other's invading fingers.

"Honey, you're so hot!" Grace gasped about her mouthful of breast.

"I need to cum," Janey panted. "Oh-hhh, when you touch my clit something just bursts in my belly…"

Grace left the swollen breast and began nuzzling down Janey's hot, palpitating flesh toward her pubes. "I'll lap you over the edge, huh? Then…"

Her breath was hot on Janey's pussy when a voice spoke in the room.

"Ribbon Girl Grace…"

A loudspeaker. Mrs. Claymore's voice.

"Report for duty at post one in the club. Very busy there now…" Janey burst into tears.

Grace gave a cry of anguish. "It's all right, lover. Later. I have to go. It's the rule."

"She's doing it on purpose!" Janey whimpered.

"Shush!" Grace put a hand over her mouth. "Don't let anybody hear that."

She sprang off the bed and from her vanity table drawer took a ribbon skirt, earring chain, and sandals.

She rushed out of the room.

Janey lay squirming on the bed, a finger up her cunt, trying to masturbate through the cum that only moments before had needed merely a single tongue lash to trigger into fluttering ecstasy.

CHAPTER EIGHT

At five in the afternoon, Janey checked her makeup in the Ribbon Girls' lounge, then entered the club and went to Barbara's niche.

Barbara greeted her with a smile. There was something vacant about her gaze.

She glanced at the bar where Burt was working. She sighed.

Janey figured they had a hot affair going but she did not inquire. She looked about for Gracie. Not in sight.

At last Barbara inspected her, making her turn about, smoothed the ribbons on her ass. "I heard about you and Grace."

"I hope it's all right."

"Oh, yes. But she gets into trouble sometimes. Don't imitate her."

Glancing at the whip under the counter, Janey resolved to be very careful. Though she did resent Grace's being called away at that particular moment. Without her, the afternoon had been long and lonely.

She was sent out to take drink orders. It seemed quite easy now.

At six o'clock, Barbara whispered to her, "Come, we have an assignment."

Janey's heart pounded as she followed the swaying of her Apron Girl's bare ass out through the lounge to the hall, then down to the third door around the curve. She pushed a door open, and Janey saw a wardrobe room, racks of garments of every imaginable color. Barbara took down two black patent-leather garments.

"We get a lot of black leather people," Barbara murmured, handing one hanger to Janey. She unsnapped her apron. "Strip. We wear just the leather."

Janey bit back the dozen questions that crowded to the tip of her tongue. Removing her earring necklace, skirt and sandals, she found that the leather consisted of, first, a mask with holes for eyes, nose, and mouth. It fitted on like a cap. Then a belt several inches wide. Last a pair of hip boots that zipped open.

They dressed in the strange garments – high heeled boots that reached up the thighs almost to the crotch, belt around the waist, and the mask hood. She copied Barbara in tucking her hair up. Then Barbara took gloves from a drawer – they had gauntlets covering the forearms – and two black whips, the snappers of which were flat, a foot long and a couple of inches wide.

"Do not speak a singe word. I will talk very little, mostly just give signals that you will obey."

She led Janey out.

They entered another room on the same curve of the S-shaped hall, a bedroom like Janey's, except that in place of a table there was a curious object like a gymnasium vaulting horse, a cylinder covered with black patent leather on four black iron legs, about waist high and bolted to the floor.

Barbara and Janey stood against the wall facing the object and the bed. Barbara crossed her anus under her breasts, held her whip with the snapper dangling, and signaled to Janey to do the same.

Shortly the door opened and a man looked in. He wore a handsome tweed jacket and flannel pants. And a black mask that covered only his eyes.

He said, "She's afraid."

Barbara told him, "Then it's clear that she needs discipline. We'll have to use chains."

Janey heard a squeal of protest in the hall. The man snarled, "Get in here now, you dirty slut! Or it will be all the harder for you!"

He dragged in a woman wearing a mask like his – a domino, Janey remembered that's what they were called. She had red hair, darker than Gracie's, and a lime-green dress that clung to a voluptuous body. On her left hand ring finger a huge diamond glittered, on the right an emerald even larger.

Her face was pale and strained. As the man shut the door, she backed to it, tried to find the knob. She finger nailed the door until the man shoved her away.

Barbara signaled for Janey to remain in place. She stepped over to a vanity table, opened the drawer and took out a black key. "She appears completely untrained. We'll have to lock up to keep her from disrupting the lesson."

She went to the door and locked it, then returned the key to the drawer. She turned to the woman. "Mrs. Smith, I'll hear your side of it first."

The woman cringed as Barbara spoke. Glancing fearfully at the man, she said, "He, my husband, he isn't a man at all!"

Barbara nodded gravely. "Your story then, is that he can't get an erection?"

"It's a flab, just a flat flab hanging in his pants. But he blames it on me."

"You lying bitch!" the man cried. "You filthy, cunt-lapping frigid slut, your hole is as dry as desert sand, like sandpaper. It'd tear the skin right off a man's prick!"

Barbara turned to the vanity table. She took a length of black chain from the drawer. She rattled it. Heavy. Iron.

"Don't chain me!" the woman shrieked. "I'll obey, I'll do whatever… you… want…"

Barbara's lip curled. "You're whining like a bitch dog. You need discipline. Your only hope is to obey or we will use very strong measures. Start by bending over the horse."

"No!" the woman shrilled. "Please don't make me!"

"Over the horse!" her husband howled. "You cowardly slut, take what you deserve."

He reached for her, but she skittered away, climbed onto the bed and cowered against the wall under the mirrors.

Janey watched gape-mouthed. This Mr. Smith wanted his wife beaten!

Then she saw Barbara's whip jerk toward her, indicating that she move toward the bed.

Walking unsteadily on the high-heeled boots, Janey advanced on the woman, as the other two came around toward the bed from the other direction.

"Slut!" he shouted at her. "Cunt-lapping lesbian bitch!"

The three closed in, Janey reaching across the bed and seizing Mrs. Smith's wrist. She found that the palm of the glove was rough, providing a sure grip on the woman's soft skin. Together they dragged her from the bed to the horse. Barbara clapped handcuffs on her. The cuffs were attached to the chain, which she drew down to a hook on a leg of the horse. Securing it, she attached the chain to leg irons clamped on the woman's ankles.

She was bent over the horse now, her screams reduced to racking sobs. "Before we began instruction," Barbara said, "remove your pants. And remember, we may have to discipline you as well."

Nodding, he removed his jacket, pants and shorts, naked now except for a blue knit shirt. His cock, Janey saw, was thick and heavy, dangling limply between his legs.

His wife shrilled, "Look at it! Hangs like an old rope. How can a woman get hot over that?"

Barbara snarled. "That remark earns you a heavy one, woman. Oh, you have so much to learn!" To Janey she said, "Take her panties down. Skirt up. Cool her ass before we start heating it."

Janey obeyed, turning the woman's lime-green skirt up and pulling down matching panties, baring large white buttocks. Dark hair tufted out at the bottom of the crease.

"Let me do it," Mr. Smith said, reaching for Barbara's whip.

She whirled on him, pointing to a chair. "Sit down, or I'll give you a couple lashes!"

The man sat, drawing back from her, gasping. "Don't whip me, please! It's she who needs it!"

Barbara snorted. "She? Are you sure? I'm not. And I have more chains, don't forget that. Let's have silence now so I can hear Mrs. Smith speak. I have some questions to ask her."

Barbara circled the horse and paused facing the woman. She dug fingers into Mrs. Smith's hair and raised her head. Barbara's stance, feet placed well apart, muscles taut, hips forward, made her look frightening, Janey thought. And the harsh black leather emphasized the curves of her body, so that her breasts and shaven pussy seemed much more prominent.

"Mrs. Smith, your husband calls you a cunt-lapper. Do you have a woman lover?"

Sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, Mrs. Smith choked, "He lies! I'd never do that."

"Another man?"

"No! I'm faithful to him. Even though I need sex, I'm very hot, but I don't get it from him so I have to…"

"Masturbate?"

The woman groaned, then nodded.

Barbara sighed. "Well, at least you admit that you finger-fuck yourself. That's a start in the right direction. Now, do you help your husband get hard by sucking his cock?"

"No, no! Never! That filthy thing…"

Barbara released her hair and circled the horse. She looked at Mr. Smith. "It's fortunate that you've come here. She needs a great deal of discipline."

She shook out her whip, planted her feet firmly. She raised the black whip to the woman's ass cleft, nudged it as though measuring the distance.

Then she brought her arm back to strike.

Mr. Smith cried out, "Wait! Look here, you won't hurt her? I mean, really hurt…"

Barbara paused, glowering. "I guess I'll have to chain you also."

"No!" he cried. "She's the one that…" Barbara's arm moved like a snake attacking. The whip flew at his legs, snapping like a pistol shot.

He shrieked. "Ahh-hh! Please don't…"

"That was only a warning," Barbara said, then she turned to the woman, unlimbering her whip arm.

Janey gaped at the red band on the man's thigh where the whip had lashed it. She did not understand at all, especially the result of the blow. His cock had twitched and started to rise!

Now Barbara's arm uncoiled, bringing the whip on a slant across Mrs. Smith's buttocks. An explosive sound. A scream from the woman that chilled Janey's blood. The whip leaped away.

A red stripe angled from hip down to the opposite thigh.

And the man's erection quivered, then grew! Again the whip descended, this time straight across. Thighs were quivering in anticipation, jerked as the whip struck and left a red mark just about her anus.

Mrs. Smith shrieked, then cried, "I'll suck it! I'll suck his cock, let me suck it right now!"

"Do you want to suck it?"

"Yes, yes, I want to!"

"Liar!" Barbara snarled. She drew her arm back and brought the whip hissing down, higher this time, snapping on the upper buttocks.

Mr. Smith was licking his lips feverishly. His cock stood halfway up. "Let her suck it, suck it right now!"

Barbara spun on him. The whip lashed out and cracked loudly on the same thigh, making an X with the previous livid stripe.

He bit his lip, fighting the pain. His cock jerked, lengthened. It was nearly fully erect now.

"First we'll get to the truth of your accusation that she likes pussy. She'll lap my assistant."

She pointed the whip at Janey, gestured to the left. Janey was now terrified of the instrument, even though she held a matching one. She scurried to comply, rounded the horse to face Mrs. Smith.

"Lift her head and give her your cunt to lick."

Trembling, Janey grasped the woman's hair, raised her head and stepped close until Mrs. Smith's nose nuzzled her pubic hair.

The man made sputtering sounds, leaned forward in his chair, opened his mouth to speak but forced it closed after a glance at Barbara's whip. His eyes were dark, malevolent.

Barbara was removing her right gauntlet. She stepped behind the woman, now holding the glove and whip in her left hand, bringing the right up between Mrs. Smith's legs.

"Start lapping! I'll feel your cunt to see if it wets. I must learn how much of a lesbian tendency you have. Very well, begin."

Janey gazed down at the woman's tear-streaked face. Her jaw was set stubbornly. Janey forced that lovely face into her cud.

Suddenly Mrs. Smith's mouth opened wide. She groaned, then as Janey pressed closer, sucked her hairy vulva.

Her tongue speared out, lashing Janey's slit. She suppressed a moan as the racing tongue stirred her lust. She knew one thing, hers was not the first cum Mrs. Smith had eaten.

"Ah, yes," Barbara said, fingering the woman's vagina. "Just as I expected. Almost a gush. Mr. Smith, it is clear that she needs stimulation from eating a woman's pussy."

"But that's filthy!" he said. "Unnatural!"

His cock stood up bony hard.

"She's quite wet enough to be fucked. I think we have found the right combination, Mr. Smith."

The woman had sucked Janey's hairy lips into her mouth and was twisting her head, wagging it, breathing very hard, and her passionate moans told Janey that she loved doing this.

Barbara was bent over the woman, hand between her legs. "Yes, a real gush now, that's very good. Mr. Smith, you must face the truth. Your wife has a lesbian streak. Now, if you would step behind her and stick your cock up this wet cunt, we'll continue the lesson."

"I want her to blow me," he said.

"Mr. Smith!" Barbara snapped. "I thought I had disciplined you!"

His hand dropped to the welts on his thigh. "Okay, okay. I'll do as you say."

"Jump to it!"

He replaced Barbara behind his wife. He spread her buttocks.

Suddenly Mrs. Smith drew back from Janey's cunt. "Oh, it's so hard. His cock is so hard it hurts!"

"Push in all the way," Barbara told him.

He grunted, shoved. His wife tensed, buttocks hardening.

"What a hot cunt!" the man cried. "Like a steamy oven!"

"It's so big," his wife moaned. "His cock's too big! My hole is narrow because it never gets enough and now he's hurting me all the way up my vagina."

"You're lying," Barbara said. "You have a big, wet cunt. But there, you've stopped eating my assistant's pussy! Go into her muff right now."

Janey felt the woman's tongue slide right up her pussy.

CHAPTER NINE

Janey had not thought she could cum under such conditions. Each time Barbara had lashed the woman, Janey had felt it herself, had felt her asshole twitch and a sudden urge to pee. But why did Mrs. Smith let herself be punished this way? And her husband, why did he submit to the lashes on his thigh? All this confused her and she had felt anything but horny when the woman first mouthed her pussy.

Now, the fires were spreading throughout her belly, which knotted and pulsed with rising orgasm.

"Fuck her harder," Barbara said.

"But she's tender inside. I don't want to hurt her cunt!"

"Clearly, you have not learned your lesson, Mr. Smith. Obedience is everything!"

As she spoke, she fisted the whip handle. Her arm drew back, far back, and she delivered the blow, grunting with the effort.

It rang on his ass like a gunshot.

Janey could feel it right through their bodies, as though he had driven in his cock so hard that it went through his wife, and her tongue stabbed like a rapier up her cunt.

It started her cum, a frenzied pulling in her belly, a scalding flood. Rising on tiptoes, she jerked through fuck movements, squashing her cunt on the woman's face, fucking her.

But it was Mrs. Smith who cried out. "I'm cum-ming!"

Her husband was fucking wildly, his loins loudly slapping her ass with each thrust.

"Honey, fuck me harder! Oh, darling, bang me with your big, beautiful cock! Ahh-hh, I'm coming all over, down to my toes, darling! You're making me cum!"

Barbara had folded her arms under her breasts, stood gazing severely at them.

Mr. Smith grunted. "God, what a hot cunt! Baby, I'm going to shoot my load. You ready for it?"

"Yes, now," his wife cried. "I'm still cum-ming, honey! Darling, give me your load!"

But Barbara intervened, slashing the man's buttocks with her whip. "In her mouth, Mr. Smith. She is going to suck you off."

"No!" the woman cried. "I won't do it. I want it shot up my hole!"

Exasperated, Barbara reached between his legs and seized his balls, pulled him out of his wife. "Obey my orders, Mr. Smith."

His cock was reddish purple, twitching stiffly, near to his cum. Seeing that he had no choice, he rushed around the horse. Janey, quivering through the last stages of orgasm, moved away. He poked his throbbing tool at his wife's mouth.

The whip cracked on her already inflamed ass.

Moaning in pain, she opened her mouth and let him shove the swollen cockhead in.

Janey watched with amazement as the woman gobbled his prick, taking more and more shank, sucking so hard that the outlines of the shaft showed in her cheeks.

He was fucking rapidly, rising on his tiptoes. "There – my load – now – drink my cream!"

His wife was swallowing it, taking the head deeper in her throat.

Janey, backing to the wall, rubbed her pussy, squeezed it as her cunt quivered.

Mrs. Smith was sucking her husband dry.

When he at last pulled his cock out of her mouth, she sobbed, "Oh, darling, I loved it so! I came when you did."

He was tenderly stroking her cheek.

She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand.

The Smiths left.

Barbara peeled off her gauntlets. "They were more difficult than usual."

The door opened and Mrs. Claymore entered, wearing a pale blue dress that clung sensuously to her curves.

She was smiling. "Well done, girls. Very nice indeed." She gave Barbara a hug. "Hurry back to your station. We have a rather large crowd tonight. I'll keep Janey here a moment."

Barbara went out.

"You obey orders nicely, Janey, and that's the first step. Second, techniques. Third, learn to judge the clients, and believe nothing they tell you. They're so repressed, the poor darlings. Buried under guilt feelings!"

She stood leaning on the black-leather horse. Smiling, she beckoned.

Janey came to her, into the arm that wound about her. Mrs. Claymore's other hand brushed down her belly. Fingers raked through her pubic hair, then closed on her pussy.

"Wet, Janey! You do cum with a gush. Now, tell me what you think of Mr. and Mrs. Smith."

Janey frowned. "I'm all confused. I mean, they paid money to get whipped."

"They don't see it that way. They need violence to break through their repression's, to them pain is an aphrodisiac. They think that our treatments can cure their hang-ups, and sometimes that does happen. More often, they become addicted to the whip."

Janey nodded. Once again the terribly deft hand on her cunt brought heat out of her. She edged closer to Mrs. Claymore.

The woman laughed. "You do like that, Janey. You have such a sensitive pussy."

Janey squirmed. "You do things – your fingers, moving in and out of my cunt."

"A mere technique, precious. I'll teach you. Now, any questions about Mr. and Mrs. Smith?"

Janey held her tongue, fearing a trap.

"Go ahead, precious. The rules are off for the moment."

"I was wondering if she has a girl lover."

"Goodness, no. That's why she's here. She's much too uptight for that. But she may, through our treatments, break through the block. Which will either cure the problem with her husband – or she may leave him for the girl friend. We are like doctors – neither of us is quite sure how it will turn out. Like doctors, we know that a cure will end our income from them." She smiled. "So we suffer from divided goals."

Janey nodded. It all seemed to add up. "At first I thought they were pretending. That it's like actors performing roles."

"Oh, yes. That's part of it, and that's why we dress you in leather. You're the scenic background, setting the mood for the performance. Incidentally these whips are less painful than the ribbon-gift ones. Those welts on Mrs. Smith's ass will be gone in a few hours. Though, sitting will be painful during that time. And that is important."

To Janey, it all seemed strange, but she accepted it, especially since the fingers on her pussy were so sure, knowing, calming while they heated her.

"I was, of course, watching through a one-way window. You looked so lovely in black, precious, your pink and white and blonde coloring! Your luscious breasts!" She squeezed Janey's pussy-lips once more, then raised her hand to Janey's nipples and tweaked them, drawing them out to jutting pegs. She bent and kissed one. "In fact, watching you, I became so hot that I could peak in a few seconds. Precious, would you, lap me through a cum?"

Janey was surprised. But she had no time to think about it, for Mrs. Claymore climbed onto the horse, hiked up her skirt and spread her legs. No panties. A massive blonde fluff. Bleached, Janey thought, dropping to her knees between the woman's legs.

Fingers combed into her hair, bringing her directly into the hairy cleft. She licked eagerly, breathing deeply of the heady smell of pussy.

She captured the erect, slippery clit in her lips.

"Ah-hh!" Mrs. Claymore cried. "Precious, suck it! Oh, I'll cum in another second!"

Janey wondered at how quickly she had taken to giving head without losing her love for meat up her cunt. Last night Mr. Burt's cock had thrilled her until Barbara seduced him away. Somehow, everything here at Palm Cove rotated around sex, and she seemed extremely adaptable. In fact, despite her shock, the whipping of Mr. and Mrs. Smith seemed to have aroused her, and now, kneeling and lapping the blonde woman she slipped a hand down her belly and began massaging her own pussy.

"Now up my cunt," Mrs. Claymore said, her voice hoarse.

Janey licked into the pulsing orifice.

"There! Oh-hh, it's scalding inside! Yes, lap me, my precious Janey. Sweetheart, I'm ashamed, I should be sucking your darling cunt, so selfish of me. Why don't you finger-fuck yourself?"

"I am," Janey panted.

"Oh, that's good. Tell me when, then we'll climax together. I'd go down on you, but I don't dare move an inch, my cum is just hanging there waiting for you to give me the word. I can taste it, taste my cum like a hot pink bubble right where I can poke my tongue through it…"

Janey spread her legs wide and stuck two fingers up her fuck-hole, wagged them wildly.

"Suck my juice! Oh, yes, you are the sweetest cunt-sucker I know, precious… I love you, love you, darling Janey."

Then Janey's orgasm boiled.

"My cum!" she cried, licking furiously at the woman's cunt.

"Ahh-hh!" Mrs. Claymore shrieked. "Ah-hh, Janey, I'm cum-ming!"

Her hips were jerking wildly, thrusting her gaping wet split at Janey's face.

Janey thumbed her own clit just once and slid over the edge, gushing through her flaming, melting, oozing orgasm.

CHAPTER TEN

Back at Barbara's station, Janey found that Grace had been waiting on tables in her place.

When Barbara went to speak to some arriving clients, Janey drew her girl friend into the corner and gave her a hug. "It was so cruel of them to call you away just when we were making love."

The redhead's eyes twinkled. "But things are like that here. I'm used to it. But later tonight, huh?"

Janey nodded eagerly, and kissed her cheek before Grace darted off in response to a client's signal.

When Barbara returned, she explained that this evening Grace and Janey would substitute for each other, one here at the club when the other was at supper or at work in a closed room.

Janey was irritated.

Still, when she went to supper in a lounge off the pool, she decided that the other Ribbon Girls were friendly and the food sumptuous, steak that melted in her mouth.

Back on station, she found Barbara frowning, apparently troubled.

"This couple demands you, Janey, but I'm afraid you lack the necessary experience."

"Discipline?" Janey asked.

"No. Jealousy. They're young. Always squabbling, both flirting with other people. He insists on you. And she practically clawed his face. I asked Mrs. Claymore. She says she is sure you can handle it."

"I'd feel better if you were there to guide me."

Barbara smiled, and patted her ass. "Mr. Burt will be watching through the one-way window. I'm certain that he'll be needed. Well, I don't share Mrs. Claymore's confidence, but she's decided."

Janey scanned the crowd, wondering which couple it was.

She felt Barbara's hand slip in under the ribbons and caress her ass-cheek. "Strange how that worked out last night, Burt and all. I did like your nuzzling my pussy, and I did ask you to do it every night. But I am turned on to him. I hope you don't mind."

"It's all right," Janey said, in no mood to tell Barbara that she had overcome the need to worship her Apron Girl, that Grace had taken her place. And she had a hunch that Burt, having so many girls at his disposal, might not be forever attached to Barbara.

A finger idly caressed Janey's furry cunt-lips. "You're teasing me," she giggled.

Barbara, gazing over the tables in her charge, seemed not to hear. "Number six wants another round."

She slapped Janey's ass, sending her on her way.

At eight o'clock Barbara said, "Now. You'll use your own room. Drinks have been delivered there."

"Costume?"

"Just a mask. It's there. Go ahead, and I hope it works out."

Janey hurried out through the lounge to the hall, went around the curve to number six. In her room she found a tray of drinks on the table, and a rainbow-colored eye mask, a domino. She put it on, then remembered the mirrors. She went to the end of the bed and pushed the button and the panels slid open. She checked her makeup and hair in the nearest mirror, and was tasting one of the three tall drinks when the door opened.

A tall young man stood there, looking elegant in a silky brown suit and, except that a domino banded his eyes, he was darkly handsome. Over his shoulder glittered the eyes of a girl wearing a rainbow domino like Janey's.

"We're Bill and Alice…" He paused, about to give the last name.

"Smith," Janey said, smiling.

"Yes, Smith."

Alice swept past him. Tall, lean, in a slack suit a shade lighter than his, dark brown hair and emerald earrings, bracelets glittering on her wrists. A leggy girl, small of hip and breast.

"All right, so she has big tits!" Alice snapped. "It's not my fault. You should have known when you married me!" She threw her handbag down on the table, seized one of the drinks and gulped half of it down.

Bill said, "Don't mind Alice. I can't even glance at a girl without her going into a screaming rage. Alice is all right, except that her cunt itches."

"It ought to itch," Alice said, "when your prick is always being stuck into other broads." Then, to Janey: "Look, I have nothing against you. I'm reasonable. I get along with other cunts. I could be friendly except that he burns my ass so, forever horny for whatever woman is handiest, except me."

Janey was baffled. "Let's sit down and talk it over."

Bill sat and picked up a drink, but Alice remained there, glowering at them.

Bill said, "It's not true, you know. I'm not a skirt-chaser. Alice has an inferiority complex. She thinks all other girls are prettier, but she's wrong. If they're not prettier, she thinks they're better dressed, or they're showing more skin or whatever."

"We won't worry about that," Alice said. "About clothes. We'll start at scratch." She tore open the handbag and drew out a complete ribbon-girl costume, skirt, chain necklace, and sandals. "Where's the bathroom? Oh. I see."

She went into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Bill reached across the table and took Janey's hand in his. "This is her idea, understand? I'd be content to go home to bed with Alice. But she has a funny twist. Maybe she wants to see me with another girl."

"Maybe," Janey said, thinking hard, and remembering what Mrs. Claymore had said.

They all lie.

That meant he did indeed chase pussy. But in what way was Alice lying?

Bill offered cigarettes. They lit up, sipped their drinks. In the bathroom a shoe clattered.

Janey glanced at the one-way windows. Barbara had said Mr. Burt would be watching, that he might be needed. She shivered. That cruel bastard! And his long, long prick!

Bill said, "She does strange things to get attention. Once back home she bet a guy she could piss in a bottle without a drop splashing outside. Bet him a hundred bucks. Did it right in the living room with everybody watching. And won."

Reflecting on her black-leather experience, Janey guessed that Barbara would say that Alice needed discipline.

The bathroom door opened. Alice as Ribbon Girl. Exquisite! Slim as an eel but not a bone showing, high breasts tanned to pale gold, sharp, dark nipples. She wore the skirt up high and, below the ribbons, dark-haired pussy-lips showed.

Slicking the ribbons down on her hips, she swayed seductively to the table. She picked up her drink.

"You look great!" Bill said.

Janey saw his eyes glisten with lust. Glancing down at his pants, she glimpsed his cock rising, very quickly forming a tent in the silky brown material.

"I should have asked for an apron instead. To show off my ass." She turned about, and she did, indeed, have a luscious ass.

Gazing at the white rounds, Janey felt a twinge of desire in her loins.

Gazing back at her husband, the girl slowly rotated her ass.

Then she turned to Janey, gazed from beneath long lashes at her, a sultry, steamy look. "Janey, do you think I'm sexy?"

"Yes! Very."

Alice licked pink lips. "I think you are, too."

Bill jerked to his feet. "Don't shit us, Alice! You don't turn on for girls!"

"Depends on the girl," she drawled, finishing her drink, then sauntering over to Janey. Behind her now, the girl bent over and slid her hands down Janey's shoulders, down the slopes of her tits. She squeezed. "Bill, go out to the club and get drunk. You aren't needed here."

"Balls. I'll stay."

"Because you think I'm faking it? Or would it make you horny to watch?"

As she spoke, she bent lower, rubbing her cheek against Janey's, extending a hand down her belly, tossing ribbons aside and fingering into her mound.

Bill, red-faced with anger, snatched at his pants zipper, tore it down and dug out his cock. His cock sprang out and stood out thick and hard, so engorged that it curved upward.

"There!" he growled. "That'll give you more kicks than any cunt!"

Alice kissed Janey's ear. "Do you like his cock better than anything I've got?"

In a state of helpless confusion, Janey could only say weakly, "I swing both ways."

But that cock, the head flared out, plump, loomed huge in her gaze, even though Alice's fingers oozed downward over her mound and caressed her pussy-lips.

Bill threw off his jacket, then his shirt. He had a strong chest with swirls of black hair.

"You'll beg for it, Alice," he cried. "You'll beg to suck my cock, I guarantee that!"

"I'll piss on it!" Alice snapped back at him.

Janey began to get the picture. They were intensely competitive, each wanting the lion's share of attention. But she remembered Mrs. Claymore's warning. They lie.

Bill kicked out of his pants. Janey saw his dark ball-sac, his nuts swollen. He had muscular legs with curly black hair. Gazing at his body, she felt her cunt throb.

Alice caressed her breasts and pussy. "We'll make sweet music together. Let the asshole watch."

Janey raised a hand to the girl's cheek, stroked it, then she turned to her.

The girl's tongue slid eagerly into her mouth.

"Fake!" Bill cried.

Alice smiled. But then she shivered, and the hand on Janey's breast clutched, squeezing it excitedly.

"I don't believe it." Bill stood with hands on hips, his jaw thrust out arrogantly. "I've seen you open a lot of guys' pants, Alice, but you never gave a sign of being lesbo."

"So I hid it," Alice murmured, then again tongued into Janey's mouth.

Janey felt herself turning on quite rapidly. She scrunched around in her chair, brought Alice to the side and slid a hand up under her ribbons to fondle those sleek, firm asscheeks.

Alice whispered, "I'm terribly anal."

Janey fingered down to the girl's anus. Pressing it made Alice's grip on Janey's tittie and pussy tighten, and her tongue flailed wildly about Janey's. The hot and pulsing asshole expanded, and the linger pressure continued until Janey's finger had sunk halfway in.

"Big show," Bill sneered. "Like the time you pissed in a bottle. And when Big Joe was drunk, you took out his cock and pulled him through the party, holding it, yelling for everybody to see Big Joe's handle."

"So lap my cunt," Alice snarled at him while lowering, impaling herself on Janey's finger, moaning with pleasure. "More, stick more up my asshole!"

"Let's see you lap Janey, if you want to prove something."

Janey guessed that the girl, screwing her ass now on the finger, had not even heard him. She was that close to a cum.

Janey decided to get her over the edge. She brought her other hand around to the front of her skirt, delved through to her hairy pussy and found her slit. The girl's clit stood out, fully turgid, a biggie. Janey tweaked it.

Alice shrieked. "Oh God, my ass – I'm cumming! Pull my clit and I'll go off!"

Janey massaged the slippery nubbin, then gave it a pull.

"AIE-eee!" Alice cried. "What a cum!"

"What a fake," her husband laughed.

But Janey knew, could feel the wrenching turmoil of the girl's insides, the violent surges, the asshole clenching harshly at her finger.

"Cum! Cum! My cunt! My ass! Cum!" Alice shrieked. "I'm on top! On top! On the peak and it's busting!"

And then she collapsed, spilled limply all over Janey.

Janey hugged her as the girl quivered and shook, trembling through the ebbing waves of orgasm.

At that moment the hall door opened.

Mr. Burt stepped into the room.

He was wearing his gold apron and he held a whip that was black-handled with a gold snapper about a foot long and an inch wide.

"I've seen all I can stand. The bitch needs discipline."

Bill stared at the whip. "But you see – I don't know – I mean, I didn't figure…"

"Trust me," Burt said, drawing the snapper through his fingers, eyes narrowed, smiling cruelly as he caressed the leather.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Janey guessed that Alice's orgasm had been so intense that she had passed out, for when Burt came and seized her arm the girl only stared blankly at him.

He yanked her to her feet and dragged her to the bed. "I should have chains, but we'll make do. She's a show-off cunt. But I'll fix her."

He twisted Alice's arm around behind her back, forcing her to kneel on the floor against the bed.

The golden whip sang, splatted loudly on Alice's right buttock, came away leaving a red weal.

She screamed in pain, tried to thrust away, but Burt twisted her arm behind her back, rendering her helpless.

Again he struck. A new red weal crossed the first one.

"Please!" Alice cried. "Please, I'll do anything!"

"No you won't, not until you get it on the other ass-cheek, and then you'll piss. When you piss, you're ready for instruction."

With two vicious snaps of the whip he laid an X on the other cheek.

Alice's screams rang out, mixed with pleas for him to stop.

"The next one is up between, on your asshole and cunt."

"No!" she cried. "Please…"

"You haven't pissed yet."

She did then, piss dribbling down her thigh.

Grinning with satisfaction, Burt released her arm.

Bill was staring wide-eyed, biting his fingernails. But Janey had also seen him grasp his cock and squeeze it. He pitied his wife, perhaps shared her suffering, but it made him horny at the same time.

Alice cowered on the floor, weeping.

Burt tossed the whip down on the bed and unclasped his apron, threw it and the thin gold chain on top of the whip. His tremendously long cock was half hard, and Janey guessed that whipping Alice had started the erection.

He bent down and seized her hair, yanked her up to kneel before him.

"Suck the meat," he growled. "Come on, cunt, wrap your mouth around my cock."

Alice gazed despairingly up at him. "You won't hit me?"

"Not if you keep your tongue going good underneath it. Come on, gulp it in."

"But I've never…"

He laughed raucously. "Shit, you've sucked a hundred cocks. Don't try to crap me, you stupid twat. Suck it!"

Groaning, Alice grasped the half-hard prick and steered the head to her mouth. She swabbed it once with the flat of her tongue, took a deep breath, then forced it in.

She gulped, gasped, seeming to gag on it, but she kept forcing it in. Soon her cheeks were drawing in and puffing out.

Her husband fisted his stiff member. He turned, wide-eyed, to Janey. "I've never seen – my wife – never." But Alice was warming to it, sucking voluptuously, her hand squeezing the cockshaft and the other now rising to grasp Burt's testicles.

Janey knew this was not Alice's first blow job.

Bill said, "She won't do it for me!"

Janey said, "Mr. Burt knows what discipline can do. He's very expert."

"I never laid a hand on her," Bill said.

Burt was laughing. "You got a silver tongue, Alice. You're a first-class cocksucker."

Janey remembered him saying the same to her. Bill now was moving around the table toward Janey. "It's so hard it hurts. If you want – to do – like Alice…"

The meaty cock thrust into her vision. Fat-headed, the split was open, showing a drop of lubricant. Janey knew she had to, but more than that, she wanted it. She was thoroughly fired up from Alice's caresses, and from seeing her punishment. Oh yes, that was getting to her.

She reached out and grasped the shaft. The head looked immense. She licked the split and tasted the tanginess of the sex fluid, then sent her tongue roving about the plushy flesh of the head.

She grasped the shank with both hands, licked her lips and forced to it, jaw opening as her mouth covered the monster head.

Burt said, "You eat cock like it's a fucking candy cane!"

And she, Janey, as her teeth slipped over the rim to the smaller shank, and the head filled her mouth, thought maybe the same could be said for her. The excitement of it went down to her vagina, and she was sitting in cunt-juice. Most of it spilled as her pulsing belly, began quaking as though starting a cum.

She licked her mouthful of cockhead, licked it with slow, loving voluptuousness, then gave a sudden sack that made Bill cry out.

"Good, what good head!" he gasped.

Entranced now, she reached for his scrotum.

Bill shoved at her. She took the head of his cock right into her throat.

She glanced over at Alice. The girl was bobbing energetically on Burt's cock, wheezing for breath, nostrils flaring as she brought in air without surrendering her mouthful.

Janey, gazing down her nose at the long, fat cockstem that disappeared into his black pubic miff, knew she could become as excited as the other girl, maybe could even cum from sucking cock.

She did not have time to find out.

At that moment Burt put the heel of his hand on Alice's forehead and shoved her away.

His cock stood full out.

Oh God, Janey thought. It's a foot long, that cruel boy's prick is at least a foot of beautiful meat.

Burt picked up his apron and from the little pocket took out a silvery tube. He uncapped it and squeezed white goo on his cockhead.

Alice was gazing wide-eyed at this action.

Burt grinned. "This lubricating crap is so slick I could stick my cock right through a keyhole."

Alice, apparently guessing at his meaning, reached back to her buttocks and pressed a trembling hand on her anus.

Janey, her jaw cramped now, eased off the wonderful fat cockhead but held it at her lips, slowly swabbing it with her tongue.

Bill said, "Burt, look, that's not necessary. I mean she's doing what you want…"

"Don't tell me my business!" Burt growled at him. He capped the tube and tossed it down on the bed, then seized Alice's disheveled hair and yanked her up onto the bed. "On your knees, cunt. You're getting the back chute reamed."

"But I've never…"

He reached for the whip. Alice shut up, knelt there trembling, her ass cocked up.

Burt steered his long cock, seated the tip in her asshole, and grasped her hips.

He jerked violently, and Alice screamed.

Holding the thrashing girl in a vise-like grip, Burt hunched again, pulled her, hunched harder and now Janey could see that half of his long cock was up her ass!

Alice had torn the bedclothes into a wad that she clenched in her fists and stuffed into her mouth.

"My God!" Bill gasped. "He did it! He'll rupture her!"

Burt answered him with a laugh. "She loves it. She's starting to cum."

Bill had turned pale. He left Janey, went to the bed. "Alice, are you all right?"

She made a whimpering sound. Janey rose and followed Bill.

Alice was gazing at them, eyes gazed, as though drugged. "It hurts," she sobbed.

"It'll hurt real good," Burt grunted, thrusting in and out now, most of his cock sliding up the girl's ass on the in stroke.

Alice had stuck her thumb into her mouth. She was sucking it, began making contented sounds.

"Alice!" Bill cried.

Her voice came thinly. "Like having two cocks in my cunt. Like too much cock. Like a cum. Like a cum I can't make. If I had more. If I had more cock up my ass."

Hearing that, Burt forced deeper.

Alice tore violently at the bedclothes with her free hand, eyes going wide with surprise.

"Cum!" she gasped. "I'm cum-ming a little like exploding the way it hurts with a cum up my – oh Christ! I'll cum…"

Janey watched with fascinated horror as the long cock sawed in and out of the girl's anus.

Bill had leaned down to his wife. Abruptly she quit sucking her thumb and reached out to his hand.

"My cum, such a long cum! Bill, I'll cum all the way when I see – you – oh what a cum – Bill – fuck Janey I want to see it…"

Burt turned to Janey. "Hop to it, cunt. Down on your back so the guy can shove it up your hole."

Janey obeyed. Down on the bed beside Alice, lifting her legs and feeling juices spill down her ass, she watched Bill climb eagerly over her, looking down at his bulky prick as he tucked the head into the mouth of her vagina.

She glanced at the ceiling mirror. She saw herself looking upward, breasts swollen, darker than pink, engorged with blood. Saw her juice-darkened belly hair, and between her lifted legs the long column of Bill's cock as he fitted the head to her cunt, then shoved.

Slowly the shaft inched into her.

She felt her vagina gape and flutter, welcoming the horny rod.

In the mirror she also saw Burt, kneeling upright, hands clutching Alice's ass-cheeks as he pumped his cock-length in and out of her hair-ringed anus.

Janey closed her eyes. Bill was tenderly, slowly easing his fat tool up the curve of her vagina. The hot and pulsing organ filled her hole, nudging deeper, making a squishy cunt noises, then prodding onward.

When his nuts nestled into her ass crack, Janey knew she had all the cock she could hold.

"Okay?" Bill asked.

"Oh boy, is it okay!" Janey gasped. She managed a smile.

Watching the ceiling mirror again, she saw Bill's torso lower to hers, concealing her body except for her legs, drawn back frog-style, and arms flung out. And her face having her belly full of a wonderful fat cock.

"I can't cum!" Alice moaned.

Janey smiled up at herself, confident that her cum would begin as soon as Bill started fucking.

CHAPTER TWELVE

But he held off after squirming a bit to settle his prick firmly in her cunt.

She watched his hard-looking ass. She saw her ribbons strewn about her hips.

I should have pulled the skirt up to my tits, she thought. He might cock-shove a ribbon up my hole! She giggled at the though, then frowned, wondering how that slithering silk would feel in there along with Bill's horny prick.

"I just can't cum-m-m!" Alice groaned.

"Tough shit," Burt said, working in and out of her asshole. Red-faced now, he was close to shooting off from the tightness of the squeeze.

Janey whispered in Bill's ear, "Tell him to use her cunt."

Bill raised up. "Burt, she's learned her lesson. Turn her over, huh?"

Burt shrugged. "What the fuck, I better before she skins my prick. That's the tightest asshole I ever buggered." He backed out, drawing out his livid tool. He grabbed Alice's knee and hurled her over as roughly as he would a Ribbon Girl, knocking her legs wide apart.

The girl's cunt was a crimson oval. From the upper part protruded her glistening big clit. The hair rimming her gash was dark with wetness. Janey did not know how the girl could have gushed that much without cum-ming. But maybe she had.

Then Bill's ass lifted, drawing cock from the squishy clutch of Janey's cunt.

At the same moment Burt grabbed Alice's hips and yanked her to him, thrusting his long cock right up her hole.

Alice went wild. She screeched and her legs flung together, gripping, her heels hammering Burt's back. Her hands clawed at his shoulders and her head swung about, flinging her hair in every direction.

"OOO-oo OWW-www!" she howled, gripping him and arching to grind her cunt at his loins, holding the arch as her hips fuck-jerked, making her ribbons fling about. "It's all there – it's dynamite! Oh Christ, there goes my cunt!"

Bill had paused, his cock half out of Janey. "Go, honey, go!"

"You too!" Alice shrieked at him. "Fuck her, fuck Janey! I want to see you fucking her! Oh darling, bang her good!"

His cockhead sludged powerfully up Janey's vagina. Gasping, she braced her heels on his back and tried to catch his rhythm, quickly jerking her hips. But his thrusting became a blur tuned to the urgency of his wife's orgasm rather than Janey's responses.

Janey knew that in his heart it was his wife he was fucking, that he loved her, and yes, Alice knew it. She was smiling, pleased, as she writhed through her orgasm on Burt's plunging cock.

Burt's back was arched and he pulled at Alice's shoulders, straining as though to lift the floor under him, neck muscles drawn to taut ropes, face flaming as he delivered.

"There!" he yelled, smashing it in and holding fast as his load shot up Alice's hole.

Janey guessed that the girl had made one cum and now, more slowly, with grunts and powerful lifts of her hips, was churning through another.

Janey's orgasm came slowly. She no longer tried to match Bill's fuck-strokes. She simply clung to him and let herself be shaken to jelly, firmly locked with his fine, strong body, occasionally pulling a cunt-suck on the fat tool inside her.

Like a flower opening, her cunt seemed to spread, absorbing his lunging organ.

The core of her cum was a liking for Bill. It saddened her to think she might not see him again. And, too, he kept glancing warmly at his wife.

I'm only a substitute, Janey thought. Still, I'm flattered that he's making Alice jealous by fucking me.

Her cum became a warm flowing that made her smile. The tension of rising to the peak had dissolved. She was up there, wallowing in it as Bill stiffened and plunged piston-hard. His eyes bulged and he raised up off her, straining, driving his cock in and holding it there as his spew flew up Janey's hole.

"Ooo-ooh!" she moaned. "Bill, give me more…"

She felt his cream spurt, again and again, swelling her vagina as she eased downhill clinging rather feebly to his hard body.

Then Bill collapsed, and she held him to her bosom, glorying in the last spewing throbs of his fat cock.

They were gone. First Burt, swaggering out. Then Bill and Alice, dressed again, leaving with arms about each other, he kissing her cheek. It was like they had gotten something out of their systems and would go back to their hotel and make love all night long.

Janey felt good. In the bathroom she got the douche and squatted on the toilet to squirt it up her vagina and wash out Bill's cum.

She found a twenty-dollar bill on the drink tray. Her tip. She crinkled the money in her fingers, thinking of her hunger when hitchhiking, and how much twenty dollars would have helped her. Probably she would have bought a bus ticket and Orvil would not have found her hitchhiking in the rain.

She glanced at the one-way windows. Anyone could be in the hall watching her fondle the money, which she must give to her Apron Girl.

She headed out.

In the hall Burt sprang toward her and snatched away the twenty dollars. He tucked it into the little pocket in his apron. "I'll take care of this."

He towered over her, threatening, his green eyes like ice.

"I'm to give it to Miss Barbara."

He showed her the whip. "You tell her about it, I'll cut your ass bloody!"

He strode away toward the club.

Janey walked slowly, undecided, shivering with fear. The thought of the whip made her buttocks lighten. Not tell Barbara? But then Burt would know he could get away with it, would take her lips and finally they would accuse her of holding out money.

Back at Barbara's station, she debated it. The club was crowded now, both ribbons and aprons rushing about to serve the guests. Burt had taken his bartending post. His green eyes glinted a warning at Janey.

But at last, she thought, the system is my only protection. I'll have to take my chances with Burt.

She told Barbara.

The Apron Girl's dark velvety eyes narrow and her nostrils flared. Then she turned on Janey.

"Who would take the word of a Ribbon Girl over an apron?"

Chin high, Janey met her gaze. "I told you the truth."

Unable to stare her down, Barbara hesitated, then went slowly over to the bar and spoke to Burt. He looked over her shoulder at Janey, looked daggers of hatred at her. And she thought that if Bill and Alice were here – they'd say that they left the tip for her. But she had not seen them in the club, though she had looked long and searchingly.

Barbara returned. She said nothing and Janey was, of course, forbidden to ask. But during the next hour the Apron Girl kept glancing sharply at Burt – her lover. She looked hurt, Janey thought.

When Mrs. Claymore came in, she and Barbara drew into the corner and whispered together. Then she left.

At midnight their shift ended. Barbara said, "Follow me, Janey."

They went to the room with the patent-leather horse. There Mrs. Claymore stood with arms crossed under her breasts, a gold whip dangling from one hand. Beside her was the Oriental, Akito, in his black shirt and leotard. And Burt, wearing his apron now, red-faced and defiant.

Mrs. Claymore said, "Bill Smith always leaves a tip."

"So he forgot this time!" Burt snarled.

Mrs. Claymore was pale with anger. Seeing Janey, she smiled, her features softening. She gazed at Janey's breasts, licked her lips.

Barbara intervened. "Ma'am, half of it should be Burt's anyway. Couldn't we – forget it?"

Pleading for her lover, Janey thought.

Mrs. Claymore's whip hand twitched. "No! I mean to protect my Ribbon Girls. I know that Mr. Smith left a tip, and Akito has searched every cranny of her room. The money is not there. Thus, I believe Janey. Burt, you have a choice. Either leave my employ at this minute – and I would hate to see that, for certain lady clients cannot get enough of your long cock – either that, or take your punishment."

"It's just her word against mine," he whined.

"I have decided."

Burt glared savagely at Janey, then stepped to the black horse and bent over it.

"Akito," Mrs. Claymore said, handing the whip to the Oriental.

"Not him!" Burt cried.

"Akito," she repeated.

The black-clad Oriental was smiling as he took the whip and strode to Burt. The gold whip leaped up and slashed Burt's hard, white buttocks, the blow sharp, snapping out like a pistol shot.

Burt screeched and slammed against the horse, almost spilling over it. The fiery line across his buttocks was uneven, Janey saw, as though the whip had twisted as it struck.

"Four more," Mrs. Claymore said.

Janey winced as the next blow landed, angling across the previous one. A spot of blood marked the crossing of the lines. Burt was writhing in pain, clinging frantically to the black horse.

She did not gloat over her victory, fearing that every whiplash would make Burt hungrier for vengeance.

Mrs. Claymore was smiling. As the third blow landed, she reached down and squeezed her pussy. Her hips were moving. She was enjoying it!

And Akito had a fierce erection stretching his leotard.

The third stripe crossed two previous ones. Three drops of blood now, and flecks of it on the whip.

The fourth and fifth left Burt's buttocks crisscrossed with welts, and blood oozed out in a dozen places.

He hung over the horse, panting, seemingly exhausted, sweat dribbling down his back.

Mrs. Claymore said hoarsely, "Burt, if you lay a hand on Janey – or any Ribbon Girl – the next whipping will be between your legs. Now go. Take tomorrow off I don't want to see you until the next day."

Groaning, Burt pushed from the horse and went out of the room, not once looking at Janey.

Mrs. Claymore said, "Barbara, you've trained Janey well. There will be a pay bonus for you. But darling, I know that last night you and Burt slept together. Really, I'd rather you sleep with a girl. It makes for less complications, besides being much more loving, a far nicer form of sex. You may go now, Barbara."

When the Apron Girl had gone, Mrs. Claymore said, "Akito, you poor thing, you've got a huge hard-on and you didn't cum, did you?"

He shook his head.

"Janey, we can't leave poor Akito to masturbate, can we? Akito, would you like to fuck Janey?"

Grinning, the man nodded vigorously.

"Very well." The woman went over to the bed and sat on the edge. "Janey, come kneel with your head on my lap. Akito always screws from behind."

Janey, aghast, could not quite believe this was happening. She found herself obeying, going to the woman on trembling legs, dropping to her knees. The woman drew back her skirt and spread her legs, brought Janey's face down into her pussy.

"If you don't mind, Janey. Such a beating excites me, especially if it's a man. I'm already close to a cum."

Dutifully, Janey nuzzled in and licked the drooling split.

She felt the ribbons being brushed off her behind, then hands – small and smooth they were – spreading her ass-cheeks.

"No, Akito," Mrs. Claymore said. "Not up her ass. She's not been properly stretched for it. Into her cunt. Do it quick-quick, get your load off because we have many things to do tonight."

Janey felt a prick slip up her vagina. How small it was after that thick prong of Bill's!

"Janey, give my clit some of those sweet little sucks, and that should do it, precious."

Tonguing the nubbin out of its protective hood, Janey gasped as Akito's cock rammed in. He was panting, shoving in hard and flattening her buttocks, rooting around on each shove.

She caught the woman's clit between her lips and tugged.

"Ah-hh!" Mrs. Claymore cried. "Oh-hh, Janey, that's such a sweet little pull. How lucky I am that you like cunt!"

For the first time, Akito spoke, laughter in his voice. "Quick-quick!" he chortled. "Lady, I quick-quick fuck!"

Between them, Janey felt waves of heat wash through her body. Despite being used like an animal, she was getting a wrenching, scalding cum!

"Precious!" the woman cried, hips jerking now, squashing her honeyed cunt into Janey's face. "My sweet darling, I am cum-ming!"

And Akito's cock began a jerking that was so rapid that Janey, her vagina gushing on it, lost track of individual strokes. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, the prick whipping in and out faster than she could measure.

She sucked Mrs. Claymore's clitoris into her mouth and held it as her vaginal muscles pulled in on the slender prick, drew hard, yanking herself into the full, fiery turmoil of her cum. As she let go, she felt his charge spurt up her hole.

"Good fuckie!" the man chortled. "This girl she good fuckie for Akito!"

"You can have her any time you want, Akito," Mrs. Claymore said.

And Janey, cunt-sucking through the aftermath of her orgasm, knew she would have to just accept it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

In her room, Janey removed her garments, bathed, and climbed into bed.

Exhausted.

The day seemed to have gutted her. First, the frustrated and yet delicious experience with darling Gracie. Then the black-booted punishing of the Smiths. Then Bill and Alice. The trouble with Burt.

Too much.

She tried to envision the world outside Palm Cove. It had not been raining tonight. Sunshine? But she could only picture the palm trunks bending like whips before blasts of wind, and icy rain wetting her through to the bone.

Here she was warm, the bed soft.

She drifted into a troubled sleep full of gold whips and ribbon-girl whips with phallic-shaped handles. Black chains snared her wrists. She was being chained to the black horse. Behind her, Burt wore a black mask and belt and hip boots. His cock stuck out like a pole as he reached his whip arm back to strike.

She raised up, fighting out of the nightmare.

"Hi, sweetie pie!"

A small form tumbled onto the bed and into her arms, soft titties melting into her own.

"Gracie!"

"Don't look so surprised, honey pot. I told you, when I got off duty." Grace pushed a thigh between Janey's legs, and hugged her. "Hey, don't I get a kiss?"

Sighing deeply, the nightmare fading, Janey squeezed her lover close and sought her mouth, found it luxuriantly soft and wet, opening to enclose hers. A hot but brief loving kiss.

Grace nuzzled her cheek. "I feel all better now."

"Did you have a bad evening?"

"No, the usual. But lonely."

They lay together sharing warmth. Janey felt content enough to purr.

Grace's head rested on Janey's shoulder. She pressed a kiss to her lover's forehead, then fell back smiling. She combed her fingers through the other's red hair, idly luxuriating in the clinging silkiness of it.

"Janey. Love me?"

"Uh-huh." She squeezed the girl's warm shoulder.

"It's nice to have somebody." Then, "You're not very hot for me, are you?"

"Right now, I just want to lie here and convince myself that it's real, that we'll take care of each other. At least, as much as Ribbon Girls can."

A hand cupped Janey's breast and squeezed it. "Well, I feel horny."

Janey giggled. "Silly little red-haired twat!"

Grace twisted down and kissed the nipple of her tittie. "Can I suck it?"

"No, wait. I want to talk…"

"Such a big, thick nipple!"

"Shut up, my dearest cunt. Listen. I was thinking, before, that it must have been sunshiny today. Almost none of the clients wore a coat. Well, the coats are hung there on the way to the rest rooms and telephone, right? And lots of times we help clients off with their coats. Huh?"

Grace nibbled her nipple. "Darling pussy, you're planning a way out of here, but it doesn't work."

"On a rainy night people would be in and out of that cloakroom hall. If things were busy, all we'd have to do is help some clients take their coats off, carry the coats in and hang them up, pick out women's raincoats – maybe hats too – of the right size, put them on and walk out the front door!"

Grace shivered. "Into the rain. No money."

"There's tip money."

"You know how dangerous it is to steal tip money. I heard how Burt got whipped tonight. That prick! I'm glad. Hey, sweet pussy, I'd rather suck your titties than talk!"

"But if we have thirty, forty dollars. Raincoats…"

"In five minutes the police patrol cars would be hunting you. Maybe the sheriffs people too. And Orvil. Look, honey, it's not so bad. Especially if we can arrange our free time together."

But Janey was thinking of Burt, of how he would hurt her if he got a chance. If she had closed-room work with him – like tonight the way he had whipped Alice – he liked whipping, maybe as much as Akito, who got his erections from it.

Grace had sucked her breast tip and was drawing slowly, pulling sweet thrills right up from her belly. Janey stroked the girl's head. What would it be like outside in sunshine? Palm trees tilted out over a white sandy beach, a placid sea, bluer than blue, sending feeble waves to collapse into foam!

Grace took the breast with both hands, squeezed it as she licked the big, reddening cap.

She paused. "You don't love me."

Smiling, Janey bent down and pushed the girl's hair aside to kiss the soft, warm, nape of her neck.

"Silly Grace twat," she murmured. "Come up here so I can kiss your titties."

Smiling broadly, Grace raised up, cupped a hand under her breast and brought it to Janey's mouth.

She teased the little nipple with her tongue, then sucked, slowly advancing, taking in more until her mouth was full of tit and Grace whimpered with desire. Janey felt down her smooth belly to the tuft of her mound hair, then invaded the plump lips of her pussy. Wet. Slippery, as though coated with honey. Wanting to get at it, she nuzzled down the girl's belly and breathed the tangy scent of her crotch.

"I want yours too," Grace said, twisting about, both of them moving faster, urgently now, until they faced opposite directions and Janey was kissing her lover's spreading thighs. A leg jacked up. On her side, resting her head on Grace's thigh, she kissed her seething slit.

At that moment a tongue speared right into her own vagina.

"Oh-hh!" she gasped. "Gracie twat, honey, you're licking me, oh-hh – not so fast!"

"I told you I'm horny. Gosh, but your cunt is hairy!"

Grace's own hair was slight, a furry downiness on Janey's cheeks as she burrowed into the girl's crotch.

Slowly she lapped the prominent clit.

Gracie, obviously on fire now, spun her tongue around the rim of Janey's fuckhole.

"How gushy!" she cried. "You wet cunt, do you love me, wet cunt?"

Giggling, Janey lipped the firming clit, pulling it.

"That much."

"Love me more, harder!"

Janey sucked it and began a nodding action, tugging the clit.

Curiously, while warm and happy, and thoroughly enjoying it, Janey was not caught up by urgency, even doubted that she would cum.

But Grace, so hot that the steamy flesh Janey licked quivered like jelly, had other ideas. Grunting, she twisted, threw a leg across and pushed at Janey's hip, forcing her over on her back. Her elbows cut the undersides of Janey's thighs making her draw them back and apart, frog style, opening her cunt.

Grace's face plunged into it.

Underneath now, licking upward at her lover's swollen coral-colored clitoris, feeling Grace's tongue slash back and forth in her cunt, Janey realized that the evening had been passionless compared to this. She crossed her legs on Grace's shoulders, locked her ankles to lever upward and fill her hole with Grace's fluttering, lashing tongue.

She cried out as sucking lips seemed to reach into her cunt, drawing at it while tongue swung in circles about the walls of the sheath.

Straining now, she began to brace her locked ankles on the girl's back and forcing her quivering cunt up to the flailing tongue. Such a tease! She needed cock in there, Bill's fat organ, powerful thrusts on which she could clench her vaginal muscles and haul herself into orgasm.

But the delicacy of this was a torment that made her cry out in joyful anguish. She seized Grace's ass-cheeks and dug in her fingertips, wrenched them while mouthing luscious pussy, gave a ferocious upward heave of her lower body and felt her belly spasm. The eruption scalded the slithering tissues of her hole, drew them in on Grace's tongue.

She was peaking. "There, I'm cum-ming, Grace, I'm…"

"Cum hard, sweetie pie. Such hot honey, I have a mouthful of it!"

The heat in Janey's belly burst as she writhed and tossed, strained to expel the slippery, wobbly, formless turmoil within her.

She collapsed, lay weakly sucking her lover's clitoris.

"Baby darling," Grace gasped, panting into Janey's cunt.

The end of loneliness, two against their world; thus it seemed in the morning when they showered together, laughing under the spray, hugging soap-slippery bodies, so keyed to each other that when Grace fingered Janey's clit she quickly had a cum.

They breakfasted in the lounge off the pool and had a swim.

Gazing at the fake blue sky above – which Gracie had said was the same at night – Janey did yearn for fresh air, a run on the beach, a tussle with ocean waves.

But then Grace came up behind her, a hand rising between her thighs to her crotch. She twined her arm about the girl, happy, forgetting the outside world except for the memory in the back of her mind of howling wind and thrashing rain.

In the afternoon they were curled up together on a couch in the lounge, watching TV, when Mrs. Claymore appeared.

She smiled, bent and gave them each a kiss. Seeing that Grace's hand was under Janey's ribbons, caressing her pussy, she, too, gave it a pat.

"You two make me so happy!" she said. "Poor Barbara is broken hearted over Burt's stealing that money… which was really hers. Men are such pricks, darlings. In this cruel world the lesbian way is our salvation!"

That evening Janey was relieved to see that Burt was not behind the bar. And the night went well.

First, an easy discipline case, a wife complaining that her husband had beaten her, which was a lie, Janey decided. The man submitted to chains on the black horse, and after Barbara had laid two stripes on his buttocks, the woman screamed and flung herself on him, begging to take his place. This was done, and on her fifth lash the woman wrenched into violent orgasm. Clearly she had wanted punishment, had wished for her husband to beat her, but he had not.

Janey's second closed-room session proved more puzzling.

This involved a married couple and a man the husband had accused of being his wife's lover. He seemed angry. But where were the three vacationing together? The husband wanted her punished for her infidelity. The woman screamed and fought her chains, requiring not only Janey and Barbara but the two men to handcuff her onto the horse.

As Barbara lashed the woman, her supposed lover became wildly excited, his erection so huge that he opened his pants to let it stand freely. The husband's organ was equally charged, but when Barbara ordered him to fuck his wife, to assert his ownership in the lover's presence, his hard-on wilted.

"Impossible!" Barbara whispered to Janey. "The men are fags, hot for each other. Maybe they don't know it. Anyhow they can't admit it in the wife's presence."

She resolved the problem by leaving the men alone, taking the woman to the other room. As she and Janey smeared salve on the wife's ass welts, the woman came alive and showed full-blown lesbian tendencies.

Janey's hairy twat made the woman frown with distaste, however. Sent from the room, she looked back in through the one-way window and saw the wife gobbling at Barbara's shaven cunt.

In the black-horse room the lover was sucking the husband's cock. The husband, Janey thought, looked bewildered, as though the truth of their situation was only now dawning on him.

That night in bed she told Grace about it.

"They're so crazy, it makes you wonder about yourself," Grace murmured, her face buried between Janey's breasts, her hands squeezing the nipples. "I'm beginning to think I always liked pussy best."

"But don't you go wild with a good, hard cock in your cunt?"

"Sometimes."

Janey, though caressing her sweetheart's back, was thinking of Bill. She had heard that his vacation had ended, he and Alice gone home. Surely the thing with Bill had been mere first-rate fucking. She had no reason to feel any other attachment; clearly his heart had been with his wife even when his splendid fat cock reamed her cunt. Probably she had need of a decent man to cling to. Both Burt and Akito had made her cum, but she didn't want to submit to either of them again.

So what she had was darling Gracie, now idly licking a nipple that stood like a thumb tip.

The following evening one of three men sitting in a booth asked Janey to dance. She checked with Barbara, who gave permission.

It was the first time for her on the little dance floor. The man, Harry was his name, was tall and strong and rather handsome, and she liked the raincoat pocket; she had felt under his arms for a gun.

She could only calculate that Mrs. Claymore had used the cop named Harry to test her, to see if she would spill the beans about Palm Cove.

Thank God for Gracie's warning.

Janey wished it had been otherwise. She would love to feel Harry's cock pushing into her cunt.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

In the evening Burt appeared behind the bar.

His gaze met Janey's. His eyes slitted, and his lips twisted in a grin.

Janey shivered.

Barbara did not look toward him. But she was flushed, and Janey thought her more hurt by him then angry. Most likely she would renew their affair if he approached her in the right way.

Gazing at the Apron Girl's bare behind, Janey sighed with envy. If only she could become an Apron Girl, with the right to refuse distasteful clients, to take days or nights off, go to the beach or to town… But how?

No Ribbon Girl knew how aprons were chosen, though apparently all aprons had served their apprenticeships in ribbons. Barbara had mentioned an incident that occurred when she wore them.

"Is he looking at me?" Barbara whispered to her.

Burt was serving drinks, half hidden by people at the bar.

"He's busy."

"I had a man last night – didn't satisfy me at all. But Burt is such a shit, he's always been one. Then trying to cheat me!"

At seven o'clock clients entered with raincoats dripping.

It was raining outside.

Janey's nerves were tingling.

Worse after Barbara told her to dress in black leather, and go to the horse room.

Fully costumed, high boots and black belt and mask with hood, carrying a black strap whip, Janey entered and found, leaning against the horse, Burt dressed in the same fashion, not wearing an apron, his long cock dangling in full view.

She saw his eyes glittering, full of hatred, laughing at her.

"Oh yes, that's the bitch," the woman said.

She was small and rather skinny, Janey thought, her hair straw-colored from too much bleach. She stood by the bed. The man beside her looked beefy. Both wore domino masks. The woman went on, "The hooded mask she's wearing doesn't fool me. I know those big tits and how she walks chin high so they flounce around, those fat tits!"

The beefy man said, "But Martha, I've only looked at her. Everybody looks at her."

"Don't tell me, she's like all the secretaries you hire, fat-titted so you can suck them."

Bewildered, Janey glanced at Burt, who stood with hands on hips, whip dangling from his hand, grinning at her.

The beefy man said, "Martha, you've had too much to drink."

"Just enough, Howard. Just enough. I'll show you. I've hired myself a prick that's twice as long as yours. Look at it hanging down between his boots. Well, Howard, I'm going to have that prick inside me, and you're going to watch, and I'll get even for all the times you've fucked your secretaries!"

The woman lost her balance, stabbed out with a foot.

Drunk, Janey thought.

"I feel humiliated," the man said.

Martha smiled. "How would you like to be chained to that horse? I can do it. I have my own money and I'll hire that, Oriental to tie you up in knots and then I'll take the whip…"

He sighed. "Martha, Martha…"

"Mr. Burt says I can do what I want. I've paid. And there will be a nice tip for Mr. Burt. Yes, that big-titted twat there with all that bushy pubic hair, I'm going to whip her like I wanted to beat all the secretaries you've fucked!"

With that, Burt said, "Then take the whip."

He tossed it to the woman. Stunned, Janey saw it fly past her face.

Then Burt was upon her. He seized her wrists, his grip as hard as steel handcuffs. He yanked her to the horse and dragged her over it.

Her booted toes barely touched the floor. Burt's weight was on her wrists.

The woman screeched, "I'll cut your fat ass to shreds, girl!"

Janey heard the whip whistle, but the woman lost her balance, staggering. The snapper struck the thigh of her boot.

She felt the bum of it through the leather.

"Drunken bitch!" the woman's husband snarled. "I hope you trip over it and break your leg."

The woman braced herself, swung, and as the whip lashed into her buttocks Janey felt the sear, a strip of fire burning the cheeks.

"Wait," Burt said. "Mrs. Smith, I have to get a hard-on. I'll have her suck my cock while you whip her. Then I'll be all ready to fuck you."

"Yes, yes!" the woman shrilled. "Make the cunt suck it!"

Her husband said, "I could throw up."

But he made no move to stop them, and Janey knew they all lied, that maybe "Mr. Smith" was getting kicks from seeing her whipped.

Burt stepped to her, pushing the long flab of his cock into her face.

Janey had clenched her fists as she fought to endure the pain of the burning stripe across her ass. And now she realized that in her right hand she held the handle of her whip. She had a weapon.

Rage, built up over these days, grew to a raging fire in her. She would not do this! Burt could get away with it, yes, because sometimes clients paid to beat Ribbon Girls. But the drunken Mrs. Smith and her indifferent husband were too much, and the evil Burt… Burt said, "Wait, Mrs. Smith, she hasn't got my prick in her mouth yet."

He raised on tiptoes, lifting the head of his prick to Janey's lips.

She lipped it, getting it into her mouth.

And then she bit it.

Burt's scream of pain shattered her ears. He clutched his injured cock.

Janey, screeching as loudly as he in her anger, flung from the horse, raised her whip, up to shoulder height, then flung it at his face, striking with all the strength in her arm.

It cut an angle from his ear to nose to jaw, left a crimson stripe in the middle of which blood spurted from both nostrils.

Janey whirled on the woman, who backed away from her, wide-eyed with fear, lost her balance and fell heavily on her backside.

As Janey rushed past her, she chopped the whip down and cut a streak across the woman's skinny thigh.

Without stopping, she tore open the door and ran out, yanking it shut behind her. In the hall she ripped off her mask and belt, zipped down the boots, kicked out of them in the costume closet. She snatched up her ribbon skirt and rushed out putting it on over her head.

Back in the club, she knew she must waste no time, yet she had to appear normal.

She forced herself to stroll nonchalantly past Barbara, whose back was turned, down the aisle between tables.

The place was full, and more people were coming, shaking rain water from their coats and closing umbrellas.

Janey helped a woman take off her raincoat and a broad-brimmed plastic hat. She carried them to the cloakroom. Then with frantic haste she put on the coat – too tight in the shoulders – and the hat. Seeing a pair of woman's boots standing under the rack, she put them on. Too big, but better than barefoot in the rain.

Then she walked slowly, bending the hat brim down over her face, to the front door. More clients were arriving. She ducked in among them and suddenly she was outside.

A howling wind drove rain into her face.

Janey started running.

She was in the parking lot dodging through a bewildering array of cars, deafened by the drumming of rain on their roofs.

She trampled into a puddle, splashing icy water up under her raincoat to her thighs, and she realized that under the thin coat she wore only her ribbon skid. But she was free!

To the left, at the end of the parking lot, she saw the revolving turret of a police car, glaring red through the rain.

She ran, panic-stricken.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Janey found concrete underfoot. The highway!

Far to the left she saw twin pinpoints of light, a car headed toward her, still distant. Glancing back, the neon glow of the Palm Cove Topless helped orient her.

She crossed the highway and as her eyes became used to darkness, she saw the rolling of breaking waves. The beach. She moved toward it, on sand now. Brush loomed ahead. She circled it to the brightness of sand. Ahead, palm trees bent before the wind. She trudged through deepening sand to the water's edge and gazed at the storm waves breaking a hundred yards out. The white froth looked as tall as a house.

She was here at last, on a palm-shaded white beach such as she had dreamed of at home. A tear rolled down her cheek.

Her ass still stung from the drunken woman's whiplash. Well, she had paid Burt for that, laid a stripe across his face, bloodied his nose. She turned back toward the Topless, saw the red police turret moving out to the highway. Afraid the headlights would spot her, she jumped behind a palm. It bent before the wind, creaking, the fronds above clattering together loudly.

She stuffed her hands into the raincoat pocket. In the right one she found a tube of lipstick and some bills. Money! Drawing them out, she angled them toward the neon lights. They looked like tens but she could not be sure.

She left the palm tree and went to the patch of brush. Head high. Thorny stuff. She moved through to where she could see the highway and parking lot.

The police car was off to her left, racing northward on the coast highway. Headlights came toward it, continued past toward Janey. Abruptly the police car made a U-turn and wheeled in on the track of the other car, both headed her way now.

The car's directional light blinked, about to turn into the Topless. The police car increased speed, overtook, forcing the first vehicle off the road fifty feet from Janey's patch of brush.

They stopped and she heard a shout, "Orvil? That you, Orvil?"

Orvil's pickup truck!

She saw the driver's window open, and Orvil leaning out. "It's me all right. What's up?"

From the police car came the shout, "Ribbon Girl slipped out. Name of Janey."

"Her! I brought her here. Big tits…"

"That's the one. We're calling in all cars. Unless she gets wheels and takes to the back roads, we got her. Those back roads, Christ, an army couldn't find her, right? So we'll patrol the highway, and in a couple minutes another car will be here to check all those parked cars, make sure she don't climb into the back of one. Ten minutes we should have enough men to comb the beach. You go patrol south."

"Hell," Orvil said. "I'll check the beach right now, get myself the runaway reward."

"Might be she's trying to make apron. But we can't count on it. You go patrol south."

With that, the police car started up, U-turned and raced northward.

Janey frowned. What did they mean, make apron?

Orvil climbed out of the pickup. He flicked on a flashlight, a powerful beam that cut right through the rain. He strode past Janey's concealment.

She heard the murmur of his car motor. He had left it running! Key in the ignition. She had wheels!

When he was out of sight, she squeezed out of the brush, ran around the truck, quietly opened the door and climbed up to the driver's seat.

She almost cried out in joy. She had wheels, would find a back road and drive all night if she had to. The cab was warm, the heater on. She tore the bills from her pocket and held them to the dashboard light. Three of them, twenties, not tens!

She saw Orvil's flashlight, distant now.

She eased the car into gear. What did they mean, make apron?

She thought of Grace. Dear Grace, left behind.

And suddenly she knew. She started off. She saw the flashlight swing her way, then come jiggling wildly toward her as Orvil broke into a run toward the moving pickup.

She laughed. Fuck you, Orvil!

I can take your truck and leave it somewhere in a ditch, drive it into a pond, you bastard! Or simply drive away a hundred miles – needle shows plenty of gas – safely out of the county and Mrs. Claymore's network of police and sheriffs men – and buy a bus ticket home.

But she did not. She wheeled into the Palm Cove drive, kept to the left of the parking lot, around the building to that single light over the doorway that had no doorknob on either side, only a keyhole within.

She stopped there and took the ignition keys.

Out of the truck, she hurled the keys off into the darkness, went and rang the bell beside the door.

She heard the chimes, and shortly the door opened. Akito stood there. She removed the plastic rainhat to show her face, then stepped inside.

He signaled for her to go in to Mrs. Claymore's office, remained behind to shut the door.

Mrs. Claymore sat at a desk with a phone to her ear. Seeing Janey, she pressed her hand to her heart and sighed deeply. Into the phone: "Call it off. My precious Janey just walked in."

Janey took off the raincoat and hung it over a chair, saying, "Well, I came back of my own free will. I want my rights."

The woman nodded. "Yes, you've learned the secret." She rose and went to a cabinet, opened a drawer and took from it a gold apron attached to a chain. "I'll put it on for you, precious."

Janey pushed the ribbon skirt down her hips, dropped it to the floor. Mrs. Claymore slipped the chain about her waist, clasped it, and arranged the apron to hang over her pubes.

"There! I'm so pleased to have you as apron, Janey. I know you'll do well. Look, you could take the evening off, if you want. I'll get you some clothes – loan you a car…"

"I'd rather, if the weather clears up, go to the beach tomorrow."

"Of course, but sweetheart, be careful! I don't want your lovely body burned lobster-red! The sun can be strong even in winter. Darling, I'm so happy you figured it out, that an Apron Girl must want to be here with us. Now, you've had excitement enough for one evening. Go to your room, if you wish – or swim in the pool – you can send for Grace if you want to make love…"

"I'll see about it."

She was leaving when Mrs. Claymore said, "I will send Burt to apologize for letting that drunken woman whip you."

Janey nodded.

She went thoughtfully to the curving hall, followed it to her room. There she combed the wetness out of her hair and repaired her makeup. She felt her ass. Only the waist chain. In the mirror she saw that pussy hair fringed out the sides of her apron. She would have to snip a little off.

She heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said.

Burt. He entered, wearing his gold apron now. The red mark angling across his face from ear to jaw still showed. There was a small strip of adhesive on the cheekbone.

Eyes downcast, he stood there.

Janey faced him, chin high, bare-breasted, bare assed proud of having made apron.

"I treated you like ribbon because you were ribbon and I was supposed to. I didn't want to."

She crossed her arms under her breasts. "You have a cruel streak."

"I guess I have."

She waited.

At last he said, "Janey, I'm glad you made apron."

Then she saw his apron lift, saw the cock push outward. Twice she had sucked him hard. Because she was ribbon. Now the apron rose, hanging on his erection.

She stepped to him and slipped her hand under the golden flap and grasped his long cock. Hard, and hot enough to set her hand on fire.

"Let's let bygones be bygones, Burt."

He smiled sheepishly. Then his hands went to her tits and cupped them. He gently rubbed her stiffening nipples. "I think I treated you so badly because I had the hots for you. Like that first night, I took Barbara from you because I didn't like seeing you think she was queen shit. Jealous, I guess."

The cock in Janey's hand twitched as he spoke. "Maybe you and me could go somewhere tomorrow. If it's not raining. The beach?"

She studied his prick. "I'd like that, Burt."

"Okay. Or to the horse races? You like that? Mrs. Claymore owes you money. We'll bet on the horses, huh?"

She smiled, nodding.

"Well, Janey, I got to go back to tending bar."

"Not yet," Janey said.

He gulped. "You mean – after all I did to you-you want to…"

She gave his rigid cock a squeeze, then pinched the clasp holding the chain to his apron, and removed the garment.

"Take mine off," she said.

Still gulping, grinning, he unclasped hers and gazed at her pubes. "I dig a really hairy cunt," he said hoarsely.

Janey turned and went to her bed. She dropped on the bed, fingered her pussy as a final test. God, wide open and slushy, and after once pressing her swollen clit, she knew she wanted it now, right now!

She rolled over on her back, yanking her legs up and apart, hissing, "Burt! Mount me!"

Grinning, he wasted no time in climbing in between her legs, steering his long, big-headed cock into her cunt.

She felt the head of it sludging in. Slowly, gently, probing the pulsing heat of her pussy. She saw it angling downward from his pubic ruff, the long shaft veiled by her fluffy pussy hair. It shortened, and she grunted with pleasure as the meat slipped up into her belly.

She reached for him.

He came down on top of her, his cock still sinking in, came gently, hands on her cheeks, kissing her, still pushing in more of his long organ. Then his chest touched her nipples, and she felt the heat writhe through her and connect with the pulses in her cunt, which now butterflied about the hard cock within.

She wound her arms about his shoulders and held him.

"Could we sleep together tonight?"

She shook her head. "No. I'll sleep with Grace." He bit his lip. "Yeah. I guess I have no right, after how I treated you."

But Janey, in her forgiving mood, kissed his cheek. "Maybe you could come in for a while. And fuck both of us."

"No. I don't want to stick it into any other cunt. Just yours, Janey."

She smiled up at him, pleased, but she knew it was a lot of crap. This special relationship might last no longer than his had with Barbara. For the moment it would do, it had to, because she needed cock. Lesbianism did not satisfy her. Well, as an Apron Girl, she would have the freedom to establish a connection with a guy, Burt or another. She thought of the cop she had danced with, rubbing her belly on his horny cock. Maybe even him, now that she no longer had to fear the police.

But for the moment she had a cuntful of throbbing, hard, hot meat, and she was content.

Burt now lifted, beginning a stroke. Janey slid a hand down between them and fisted his slippery cock, so gloriously hard that she thought herself the luckiest girl at the Palm Cove.

She released it and the long prick slid up her hole and she moaned with joy. She crossed her legs over his back and dug her heels into his flesh.

"You want some good hard ones to get you a cum?"

His request made her orgasm run over. Yes, he had asked for her wishes! At last, she was truly apron!

And she took advantage of it. "No, just root around inside me. I'll pull off a cum, all by myself. Then you can start the real fucking."

Smiling, she closed her eyes and vised him into her arms and legs, pushed her cunt against his cock, hipped upward and found it, a hot turmoil like a wet explosion in her belly.

"I'm cum-ming!" she shrieked happily, squeezing her cunt on his loins.

"Cum, baby, cum!" Burt yelled.

And Janey pitched and tossed and screwed herself around and flung herself into the beautiful squishiness of orgasm.

Content

Robert Taylor
Whipped bitch

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN