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From: "E S" <ellbm@altavista.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Girl in the Cottage, part 5 and 6
Date: Thu, 17 Oct 2002 17:10:04 -0400
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Girl in the Cottage


Part 5


These must be whipmarks, the bearded man said, tracing the faint
streaks on the girl's buttocks. He was reclining in the sofa in
front of the open fire, his feet on the coffe table, naked but
for the open shirt and the socks. Most probably a belting, he
added. Have you always been this hairy? the girl said. I didn't
know crocs were hairy. He chuckled. You like it? And why only in
the ass? Some day I might tell you, he said.

She curled up with her head in his knee. Do you get off on it? he
asked. Being whipped? I didn't get an orgasm, if that's what you
mean. It was a first. It was? the man sounded surprised. But it
turned you on? She buried her head in his groin. Yes or no? Yes.
Ever got spanked as a kid? Not really, I had a fantasy about my
daddy spanking me, teasing him, you know, but I'd run to Mom if
he ever had.

You will soon be whipped, the man said. Yes. The girl bit her
lip. Tell me when you're ready, he said.

She fondled his cock, cuddled, licked at the head. It was as soft
as a puppy in that coarse bush. She weighed his balls in her
hand.  How does it feel to have a cock? she murmured. Oh, he's a
rather wilful companion, he said. Like a dog, sniffed you already
when you passed the gate. On that party? She giggled. He seems
fed up with me now, she said.

It's not the whipping, it's the situation, she explained. He
probed her mouth with his thumb. Of course it is. For me it's not
the fancy stuff, it's you. His cock was growing, unfolding. You
like me helpless? said the girl. I am not that sure who runs the
show, he said. He pushed against her mouth. Open up.

She parted her legs for him. Are you a wet little girl, he
mumbled. I should have you tied up under my desk at the office,
would you like that? Uh, went the girl. Or tied up by the urinals
in the shop, if the boys wanted some relief on the night shift.
Uh. Or if they just needed another one. You'd love that, right?
Uh. She had taken all of him now, her nose eager in the bush of
his groin. Saliva trickling down on the sofa. You're the born
cocksucker, you could feed on sperm. 

He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off. Easy now, he said.
Don't try to bring me off. We have work to do. What do you say?
She cleared her throat, all flushed: I think I'm ready.

She was stripped naked in the dark hallway and left standing
there, legs parted, hands on her back. The house was chilly and
she got goose pimples on her thighs and arms waiting. He took his
time. 

When he arrived he was dressed in black leather, vest and chaps.
His grizzled beard and hairy body went well with his stocky
build. His cock and balls looked heavy. He carried a bull whip.
The girl wetted her lips, her eyes shifting from the bull whip to
his growing erection. I thought you didn't... she began. It's
your fear I want, girl. 

He kissed her and probed her ass with a finger. Fuckable now, you
are. He shoved two fingers in up to his knuckles. The girl was
sucking his tongue, moaning.

Start walking. Yes, you'll walk fine with fingers up your ass. To
the left. She had a funny gait now, on her toes, straddle-legged.
Up the stairs. 

Halfway up the stairs he force her down on her elbows, put the
head of the cock at her worked up, puckered little hole and
pushed all the way in. The girl cried out. See what I mean, he
said. In the future men won't have to fiddle around any more.
When they see you around, they just grab you by your neck, turn
you around, raise your skirt, shove their hard cocks in, dump
their load and walk.

Yes, her voice was ragged. Yes. Go on.

You will be the talk of the town. There's the little ass whore.
And you will be out there on the street wagging your tail in that
skimpy little skirt, because you can't help it. The truckdriver
beckons you, and seconds later you're impaled on his rod. Scram,
he says, and you leave with his cum running down your legs. When
night falls and men start finding you repulsive you have to seek
out the bums in the docklands, they will throw you over the
garbage cans and take turns on you, you will be on your knees for
the ugliest and dirtiest of them all, to get their cocks up...

The girl was on the brink. He held still. Please, please... He
withdrew carefully not to trigger her and turned her around. She
was blossoming. He slapped her hard, to unwind her. Why? she
cried. You're not supposed to come all over the place. Now you
know what to do.

The girl obediently began to clean him up. Don't forget the
balls, he said.

When her pulse rate was down they resumed their climb. There were
two rooms with sloped ceilings in the attic, one on each side of
the landing. The man opened the left door. 

It was a nice warm room, the maid had lit the candles and a fire
was burning in a small iron stove. The floor was covered by a
creamcolored carpet. On the sidewall was a book shelf and by the
window refreshments were available on a tray. What caught her eye
was the huge, black brass bed and the mirrors. She saw herself
reflected from every angle and from above, pale and tiny compared
to the sturdy man in leather at her side.

It's sound proof, he said. I didn't know you had a room... she
began. I haven't. He cut her short. In here you should only speak
when requested to. 

On the bed was laid out accessories, furtrimmed leather
bracelets, whips, ropes and a number of things the girl had never
seen before. He went down on his knee to fasten the bracelets on
her ankles, then proceeded with her wrists and with a collar
around her neck. He put his arms around her and locked her arms
behind her back. 

She got up on her toes to have his cock beween her legs. Fuck me.
He put a finger on her mouth. I told you to shut up, and I mean
it. Just stand like this, legs apart.

He went to the door and called out: She's ready.

The woman who entered the room was tall with greyish, cropped
hair, dressed in leather corselette supporting her breasts, long
black gloves, her long legs clad in black silk stockings and with
high-heeled shoes the girl would hardly be able to stand in, let
alone walk with. She smelled of perfume. Hello, little filly, she
said. 

The girl turned pale. So, you recognize me? The woman went
straight up to the girl and pushed two fingers up her cunt. More
than ready, I'd say. If she won't cream on the cross, noone will.


That dirty old man didn't get you off, I presume? She pinched her
cheek. The girl quickly shook her head. Excellent. Very well. But
you forgot to shave her, dear. Tell the maid to get here.

The maid arrived in her apron. Foam was applied but shaving the
delicate areas between the legs got her nervous, the razor knife
seemed all too big for the job. Take over, dear, the woman said.
I want her shaved, not mutilated. The bearded man finished the
shaving and the maid cleansed the girl and applied some oil. 

A cunt like a twelve year old, the woman commented, a twelve year
old wanking off daily, that is. Tie her up, she said, face to the
wall. And then leave.

Leave? the man was surprised. You heard me, the woman said.

The bookshelf swung around, it covered for the cross on the other
side. When she was tied up and the others had left the woman
walked up and addressed her. A woman knows what another woman can
stand, and I hate it when people turn soft. Will you sing for me,
girl? I don't know, the girl whispered. I'm afraid. You should
be, she said.

She picked the cane from the bed, wetted it by slow strokes
between the girls cunt lips, strokes that made the girl shiver,
then positioned herself to the left tracing the buttocks with the
tip of the cane. Then the whipping started.

The man was with the maid in the livingroom. It will be a long
night, he gruffed. I can take the night watch. Oh, thank you,
sir! The maid was on her way. Stop, before you leave I need some
relief, he leaned back with his hand under the balls. I am not
allowed to, the maid mumbled. Who said anything about fucking? I
need a blow job. The maid went down on him. Then get me a
blanket.

When she had left he poured himself three fingers of malt and put
some logs on the fire. Faint sounds came from above. Bitch, he
said.

The woman had turned to the birch, she didn't strike hard at all,
it was a steady birching slowly reddening the girl's backside.
She didn't scream now, she moaned, and her butt was twitching
involuntarily. The woman took her time, feeling her up now and
then. 

You seem about ready now, she said, increasing the force and the
pace. The girl's moaning changed into little cries. She went
rigid and the woman concentrated on the buttocks. Soon a
bellowing rose from deep inside the girl and she began to buck
uncontrollably. The woman pushed three fingers up her cunt and
felt the contractions. The birching continued, but softer now. A
minute later the girl was hanging limp in her shackles.

The woman took her off the cross and put her on the floor. I'm so
ashamed, the girl whispered, tears running down her cheeks. Why?
It's so... so perverse. Having orgasms being whipped? Yes, the
girl said. Any woman could, if not completely frigid and if
properly prepared. It's still perverse, the girl insisted.

But it was one hell of an orgasm? The woman smiled. You are
terrible, the girl said. The woman kissed her. I'm not through
with you yet, she said.

It was past midnight. In the livingroom the man lay snoring in
the sofa with the dressing gown for a cover. The maid couldn't
sleep, she lay on her back with her eyes wide open in the dark,
listening. Up in the attic the girl had just had her third
whipping, she was back on the floor and the woman was rubbing her
swollen breasts with a lotion. 

You won't see a trace of this in the morning, she said. Your ass
is another matter, she added. You shouldn't take that to the
beach for a week. My husband arrives Tuesday, the girl said. Oh,
why didn't you tell me? The woman put up a show of concern and
the girl couldn't but laugh. 

Don't tell me you care! I do, said the woman. Men will buy any
explanation as long as no other man is involved. Like "I went off
the road biking"? the girl asked. Add a somersault right into the
thornbrush, said the woman, make it complicated. And on my way
home I made another somersault into the very same thornbrush?
Shut up, said the woman and kissed her.

Please, said the girl, don't touch me there. I'm hypersensitive,
it hurts. So you have had it? the woman asked. Yes. Then I want
you to do something for me. The girl nodded. I want to. The woman
straddled her chest. Her hairy pussy was inches over the girls
mouth. Now, girl, you better use your tongue or I will have you
sleep with the dogs.

They went downstairs, the girl carrying the woman's high-heels.
The open fire was out, the only light on was that in the hall.
They tiptoed around the sofa not to wake up the man, stood in the
doorway to the kitchen with ears pointed, and then sneaked into
the master bedroom. What if he comes, the girl whispered. He
won't. I'm more worried about the maid.  

The girl had never slept with a woman before and didn't know how
to. But the woman just mumbled: I'll be careful. She locked the
girls arms over her head, and bent down to french her. The girls
leg was caught between her thighs, object for a slow grinding
motion. Afterwards they lay panting in the dark.

I had to have you again, you make me so unbelievably hot. Thanks,
whispered the girl. The woman replied: I hope it wasn't too bad
for you. The  girl cuddled up at her side. I have been horny all
day, she confessed. Confused, too. Scared stiff, but terribly
horny. The woman caressed her cheek. I still am... but awfully
tender.

Is that so? Are you by any chance free tomorrow afternoon? 

The girl tried to remember what she was expected to do, her
ordinary duties. The stables of course. The neighbor was probably
pretty pissed off by now. I think so, she whispered. Not another
spanking session I hope? Oh, no, but very, naughty. What could be
naughtier? Oh, you're  not an experienced lady cause you've
sinned once. The woman kissed her again.

Tell me, the girl insisted. Well, I have three ladies here
tomorrow playing bridge. I'm the fourth. We meet four times a
year, taking turns. I thought you might wait on us, snacks,
drinks, you know. How naughty is that? It's not any ladies,
really, it's dykes like me. Or worse. Uh oh, said the girl. I
didn't know there were four dykes around in this town. There
aren't, they are from other parts. 

Why me? You met the maid, the woman said. She's sweet but has her
moods. You would knock them off their feet. Would you do that for
me?



Part 6 



The girl woke up alone and it was an hour to noon. She found a
t-shirt in the cupboard and went looking for her clothes. Not a
trace of them. The man was gone, too. 

The maid was preparing sandwiches in the kitchen, red-eyed. I
can't find my clothes, said the girl. They are in the washer,
madam, the maid replied. I will have them ironed by two o'clock.
The dress is at the cleaners and your sandals and some other
things are in the hall closet, in the bag you brought. Oh, said
the girl. You got coffee? I will make some, anything to go with
it? An aspirin, if you have one. 

The girl went back to the bedroom for a shower. She dried her
hair in front of the mirror. Shit! She stared at her reflection,
she had completely forgotten the shave. How do I explain that,
she said to herself. I look like a slut. 

Her ass was crisscrossed with stripes from the cane and small
crusts from the birching. Still red. Streaks even on the back of
her legs. Ouch. No mini as long as they were visible. Her breasts
looked normal, but were taut and sensitive to touch. 

She went back to the kitchen. Where are all people? At work, the
maid said. Your coffe is ready. The girl had coffee, an aspirin
and a sandwich and went back to bed. 

Time. The woman was at the foot of the bed, one hand on each of
her knees. You're about to serve us in half an hour. They are
very expectant. The girl was far away but drowsily tried to get
up. I forgot... The woman held her down. Oh no, little girls
showing off their cunts must expect a penalty. The girl soon
succumbed to the prying tongue. She parted her legs. 

The outfit, madam. It was the maid. Wait a moment, I have to get
this cunt flowing.

The maid stood by, quietly watching the girl. Not like this! the
girl begged. It's so humiliating. Hold her, the woman commanded.
The maid was strong, she pressed the girl down and tied her arms
down. It is, the maid said. 

The girl couldn't resist, soon she was moaning in spite of her
tears. She pressed her thighs around the woman's head, and then
arched. The tongue kept working on her until she fell back,
spent. Now, let's dress her up, the woman said.

A shower, the girl pleaded. No time for that, our guests can
stand a smelly cunt. The woman tornedto the maid: Now for the
top.

The top was difficult to get on, it was extremely tight. It had
to come on right, if the breasts should fit with the holes and
get the proper support. The nipples should point straight out.
Fine, the woman said: op. The garter was in the same material,
black and glossy. Why, you're dressing me up in latex, the girl
exclaimed. Right you are, the woman said, in fact the stockings
are latex too. 

The maid put up the girl's hair in an ad hoc fashion and pinned a
maid's cap. This hair at the neck can't be fixed, the maid said.
Cut it off, we want a long, slender bare neck. The maid used the
scissors, locks fell on the floor. A bit trashy, perhaps, but
that helps, said the woman. Shoes? The girl sat paralysed. The
maid put on a couple of spike-heeled shoes, like the ones the
woman had worn the night before. The collar? The apron? A small
white laced apron was knit around her waist. 

Stand up. The girl got up and took some awkward steps forward.
Try walking, the woman said. Get used to them. The girl's white
breasts bounced.

It's three o'clock, madam, the maid pointed out. The ladies are
waiting. They can wait. I'm thinking. Did you bring the clamps?
Only the small ones with weights. Good. 

The clamps were applied on the nipples, both with a little
feathered weight hanging down. The girl whined. Take her to the
mirror.

Now she realized what was happening. She turned pale. Don't do
this to me. Why not? the woman said. The ladies will love you.
Let me at least have a skirt., I look like a whore. Get your act
together, the woman snapped. Those ladies have seen it all, it's
not exactly the Christian Charity Board.

The woman put two fingers up her cunt. This is exactly what you
want and you know it, she said, slowly working her fingers in and
out. They made a slurping sound. It might be the last thing you
do for me, but please do it right. Head high.

The girl sniffled and nodded. I'm so ashamed. That's the idea,
the woman said.

The maid wiped off her face with a towel and applied some
lipstick and some rouge. I don't think we have time for the eyes,
the maid said. Her eyes are fine as they are, the woman quipped.
Now, girl, are you ready? Remember, it's all a show. Don't
question anything and don't - whatever you do - talk back. The
leash!

The woman arrived with the the girl two steps behind. The ladies
assembled were stunned, astonished, and then came the cheers. A
wonderful creature! She's the cutest little thing! The girl
blushed and cast down her eyes. 

The woman asked for silence. Thanks, sorry I am late. I just had
to have her, you know. Not that she needed it, she wets at a
glance. But this girl is special, she has extraordinary
qualities. Turn, girl. Wow, went the ladies. What a session! 

She turned to the girl, a hand under her chin. Tell us now, did
you get off on the whip. The girl's big eyes met the woman's.
Yes, she whispered. Louder. Nobody can hear you. The girl cleared
her throat. Yes. Twice? Yes. Three times? Yes. Tears welled up. 

I can't wait to lay my hands on that little cunt, hissed a
middleaged redhead in a mini. It takes some skill, objected a
burly woman in a three-piece suit. Give some credit to our
hostess. Might be rather fragile, muttered the youngest of them,
a slender, aristocratic blonde. 

The woman, the hostess, raised her voice: I'll tell you
something. Yesterday morning this girl was an ordinary housewife
with no previous experience.

That statement really unsettled the ladies. No shit, said the
burly woman. May I? said the blonde. Of course. She walked up to
the girl and faced her. Are you married? Yes, the girl said. Two
days ago, you had never had sex with a woman? Yes. What? the
blonde said. You do have previous experience? No, oh no.
Allright. You had never been whipped before? Yes. You had been
whipped. Yes. When? Once, five days ago. By whom? A man. Your
husband? No. A lover? Yes. A man? Yes.

The blonde turned to the hostess. Not quite, but fairly correct.
I'm impressed. Allow me to put one last question to her. By all
means, do. The blonde looked the girl in her eyes: Do you love
this woman? And I don't want to know if you like her, I suppose
you do. Do you love her?

The girl turned to the woman in desperation. The woman kept a
straight face, she gave no lead, but you could sense the growing
anger. Yes or no, the blonde insisted. The girl winced. Finally
she gave in: No. 

Excellent! As I said, I'm impressed. Let's sit down to play.

During the game the girl stood at attention. The ladies gave her
a sign when they needed something, or when they just wanted to
feel her up or fondle her tits. The burly woman never missed a
chance. The redhead forced the girl on her knees and opened her
legs. Please, don't, said the blonde. Not when we play. The
hostess quietly shook her head. You're a bunch of prudes, said
the redhead.

The ladies shifted partners and at the interval the redhead was
400 points ahead  with the burly woman trailing far behind.
Loser's privilege, she said. I want that girl now. The hostess
looked at the others, who nodded their consent. Please, she said,
she's yours. Can I use the guestroom?

The girl gave the hostess a long look. She just nodded.

The burly woman calmly undressed. She  was big, huge breasts,
broad hips. Are you afraid of me? she asked. Yes, the girl said.
You don't need to be, the woman said. I'm not into anything bad.
But your little girl pussy turns me on. I want it. 

The woman lay down on the bed. Sit on my face, she said. 

Twenty minutes later the woman triumphantly returned with the
staggering girl, whose pussy was red and swollen and whose loins
were glistening from juices. You did her big? the redhead said. I
don't believe that. Hi, girl, come here. The redhead felt her up,
three fingers, four. The girl cringed from pain and almost
fainted. She's done allright, the redhead said. Let's play.

A moment, the hostess said, and left the table. The maid was in
the kitchen. Yes, madame. Take care of the girl, the fat witch
fisted her. Ice her, use hydrocortison, drug her, whatever. She
must be shining at eight, humming. Yes, madame.

On her way back to the table she waved off the girl. You're
excused. She sat down. I think play will improve without her.
What do you think? 

In the final pairing the hostess and the blonde played the
others. The redhead was still ahead with the blonde a hundred
points down. The hostess couldn't win but had the outcome in her
hand, either by playing well, when the blonde would win, or by
overplaying her hand, when the blonde would lose. 

In the final deal she forced the blonde to climb to four hearts,
when three was enough to win. With only two hearts on hand she
sat back, confident that the redhead would punish them. She gave
the blonde a smile. Do I sense the presence of snakes? mumbled
the blonde when she saw the cards laid out. 

The blonde set a trap and the burly woman went for it, discarding
a spade when anything else would have won. Sorry, she mumbled.

The four women fell silent. The blonde broke the silence: I won't
stay overnight. Is it possible for you to forgo the loser's
privilege? The redhead shrug her shoulders. Well, pussywhipping
seems to be out of the question. The hostess tapped on the cards.
We are on thin ice now, she said. All of us got carried away.
Privileges are the minor problem. 

People will be asking where she is. Police will be askingaround.

I didn't get carried away, the blonde coolly stated. What you
ladies have done to her, I don't know. But I claim her as my
prize. You go all the way, said the hostess. You don't know your
limits. I do, and you are in the audience watching, with little
girls lapping away. Don't lecture me.

We might all go down on this one, said the redhead. Sitting in
the audience or not. So we better take a vote. Rules are rules,
said the burly woman.

They were intercepted by the arrival of the girl. She was
radiating beauty, gone was the cap, the apron, and the clamps. It
was her nude skin against the black latex. The ladies were
dumbfounded. Her big eyes, the freckles over that smile. Her
breasts pushing out, taut with erect nipples, the peach pussy and
the firm, rounded buttocks. Don't ever turn her over to the
tiger, growled the redhead. Keep her.

The blonde sensed the turning tide. Calm down, she said, rose and
approached the girl. She removed the collar to show herlong,
slender neck. Part your legs. The girl obliged. The blonde took
her stand behind the girl and said: Now watch. 

She put her hands around the base of the girl's neck and slowly
pulled till her hands hit the chin and her thumbs tipped the head
forward. The ladies alerted.

Does it feel nice, girl? said the blonde. Yes, madam.

It makes your neck very beautiful. Thank you, madam. The blonde
repeated the procedure: from the base up to the chin and the
little tip forward caused by the thumbs. And again. The neck is a
very erotic zone, said the blonde. Do you react to that? Yes,
madam. So you're aroused? Yes, madame. Fondle yourself. The girl
hesitated for a few seconds, then closed her eyes and put her
right hand over her pussy. Two fingers are enough, mumbled the
blonde. Don't hide your little cunt away. Just do like you
usually do. 

The blonde resumed the work on the neck, at a slow pace, each
time increasing the pull upwards. The girl's fingers moved with
the neck massage, not at all when on tiptoe, rapidly when on her
feet. She breathed heavily through her mouth, pushed her cunt
forward to increase pressure, then just a gentle brushing. The
ladies were steaming now. The blonde put her mouth at the girl's
ear: Next time on your toes you will come for me. 

The blonde applied more pressure, slowly working her way up. The
girl's fingers was fluttering over the cunt, then pressing. She
climaxed as the blonde reached her chin and forced her up on the
tip of her toes and held her in that position, head tipped
forward, legs twitching, until the contractions stopped. She let
the girl down and held her in her arms.

Well, the blonde said. Yes or no?

Yes. Yes!

The woman, the hostess, was digesting the scene. The girl gave
her a sweet smile of recognition. Come on now, prodded the
redhead. Oh, sorry, the woman said. I vote yes.


SORENSEN













 



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