Saddled up

by Penny Birch

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance

Synopsis

Amber Oakley is back! Determined as ever to avoid getting her bottom smacked but her own deep needs and the awkward circumstances she finds herself in trying to solve her financial difficulties mean otherwise.

Offering riding tuition to girls from wealthy families seems like a good idea, but Portia and Ophelia Crowthorne-Jones prove to have a few ideas of their own, and are soon indulging both their lesbian desires and their cruel sense of humour at Amber's expense. Will she end up as their plaything, or can she turn the tables and teach the little brats the lesson they so clearly deserve?

Release date: April 21, 2011

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 208

Sample

Some girls need to be spanked.

I need to be spanked anyway, not often, but just occasionally. It’s not because I’m naughty and deserve to be punished, although sometimes I wish it was, but because it fulfils a deep need in me. All my life I’ve fought against that need, but never managed to conquer it. Far more often I’m the one doing the spanking, but when I do need my own bottom dealt with, I need it too badly to hold back, and I need it done properly.

Which is why I was driving down a narrow lane just off the A1 with my heart in my mouth and my bottom packed into a pair of ridiculous little jeans shorts that left most of my cheeks spilling out at the sides. That’s the trouble with being the sort of girl who needs to be spanked. You have to find somebody to do the spanking. That’s not easy for me. I find it hard to submit, and really hard to submit to men. So it has to be a woman, and it has to be a woman big enough and strong enough to hold me in place. That’s where Hannah Riley comes in. She’s built like a dray horse and she knows exactly how to handle me, over her knee and my panties pulled down without any nonsense for a good, old-fashioned, bare-bottom spanking.

I like it that way, nothing fancy, just the classic routine; my zip unfastened to make it easier for her to take my shorts down, over her knee with my hips lifted so that she can get me bare, shorts pulled down to show off my panties, panties pulled down to show off my bare bottom and her massive hand applied to my cheeks as she spanks me. It leaves me hot and shaking, dizzy with reaction and helpless to resist, in a state of ecstasy that comes no other way. Naturally there’s a price, which is to please her in turn, and sometimes other people, because I have to accept her rules or I won’t get it at all.

That’s why I was in the silly little jeans shorts, which I wouldn’t normally wear, ever. She likes me in shorts, with plenty of cheek showing, and not just for the view I provide. I find it humiliating and she knows it, while she also feels that having to show off my bottom keeps me in my place. It certainly keeps me conscious of my rear view, and I try very hard to make sure nobody else sees. She likes people to see, especially men, which is a bit of a problem. Men have never been easy for me, but once I’ve been spanked, and with Hannah in charge, I really can’t help myself.

Hannah’s a traveller, of sorts, and while the site where she’d told me I’d find her caravan was convenient it was also rather too close to my house for comfort, just a few miles across country. Yet I hadn’t seen anybody at all on the lane and the tension in my belly faded a little as the satnav told me I’d reached my destination and I realised that I probably wasn’t going to have to show off my bottom after all, at least not to anybody other than the woman I’d asked to spank it. With my relief came a stab of disappointment, in turn leaving me feeling ever so slightly ashamed of myself for my dirty thoughts as I drove slowly on, expecting to find her caravan parked alongside the track.

Eventually the hedge to my left gave way to an open area of broken tarmac and flat slabs of concrete that must once have been the bases of huts but now supported not one caravan, but two, also several cars and an open truck filled with old white goods and scrap metal. A large, dun-coloured billy-goat was tethered nearby, the only sign of life, and for a moment my feelings of tension began to wane, only to grow stronger once more as two men stepped out from behind the truck. Both were typically Irish, one tall and strongly built with a mop of thick black hair and a handsome but somehow mocking face, the other taller still but cane-thin, lanky and extraordinarily ugly, with straggling red hair, buck teeth and a little pointed beard that looked as if the moths had been at it. Their clothes were scruffy to say the least, but I was hardly in a position to criticise with half my bottom sticking out of my shorts, and the thought of them seeing set me warm and pink with embarrassment.

I parked as close as I could to Hannah’s caravan and got out, trying to ignore the curious glances of the two men. There was so much debris around that I had a good ten yards to go, and no chance of concealing the way I was dressed. One of them whistled and my face grew hotter still as I hurried to the door. I could feel their eyes on me as I knocked, their gaze lingering on the swell of my bottom and shape of my cheeks where they bulged from my shorts. Both were vaguely familiar from previous expeditions, and I found myself wondering just how much they knew, bringing my blushes up to red heat as I imagined them laughing together over my spanking, perhaps even peering in at a window to watch me get it, bare bottom over Hannah’s lap with my cheeks bouncing to the slaps and the lips of my fanny showing between my thighs. I very nearly ran back to my car, but then the door had swung open to reveal a heavy-set woman in a pink bathrobe held half-closed over a nightie, not Hannah, but her friend Maggie.

‘Oh, it’s you, Amber,’ she said, her voice thick with contempt. ‘Hannah, your tart’s here.’

She hadn’t even bothered to keep her voice down, and I heard laughter from the men behind me as I hurried into the caravan. Maggie was smoking, as always, and the place was thick with the smell of cigarettes and cheap perfume, making me retch as I pushed the door closed. My hand was shaking so badly I fumbled the handle, while the heat in my face and neck was making my skin prickle, so strong was my embarrassment, for the men outside, and for Maggie, because her presence didn’t mean I’d be let off my spanking, only that I’d have an audience. Quite possibly they’d take turns with me.

Hannah appeared from behind a curtain at the far end of the caravan, her imposing bulk putting Maggie to shame. She was also in her night things, a huge, pale green baby-doll with a fluffy trim, the semi-transparent material clinging to her colossal breasts and swollen stomach. As always, just to look at her made me feel weak, and set me wondering how I could possibly want to be punished by her even as I was filled with an overwhelming desire for exactly that. I had to be insane to let her do what she did to me, and yet my fingers had already gone to the button of my shorts, ready to make myself vulnerable, or push them straight down if she told me to.

‘Hold yer horses, love,’ she growled. ‘I ain’t even had a cup of tea yet.’

I nodded weakly in response as she stumped over to the chair in which she liked to sit while she spanked me, flopping down with a grunt. Maggie had already gone to the tiny galley, where she busied herself with the tea-making preparation I’d evidently interrupted. I stayed as I was, feeling more embarrassed than ever, until Hannah spoke again.

‘You can take ’em off if you want. We don’t care.’

‘No, thank you …’ I began, and trailed off, unable to explain that I liked to have my shorts pulled down by her, or at the very least be ordered out of them.

‘Suit yourself,’ she said. ‘It’s all the same in the end.’

‘Thinks she’s too good for us, that’s her problem,’ Maggie remarked, which was completely unfair when we all three knew that I was soon going to be bare bottom across Hannah’s lap, and had been many times before.

‘Not at all,’ I said, then stopped once more, painfully aware that any attempt to explain my true feelings was only going to make matters worse.

After all, I did think I was too good for them, at least in the sense that they were very definitely of the people and I wasn’t, which was what she meant. That was one of the things which really brought out my feelings when Hannah spanked me, knowing that I was being firmly put in my place by a coarse, working-class woman. It was just so inappropriate, so utterly demeaning, the perfect humiliation. I’d never had the courage to tell her and didn’t intend to start now, for all that I was sure she got a lot of extra pleasure out of our encounters precisely because of my wealthy background.

Maggie passed a mug of tea to Hannah and took up a second for herself, leaving me to collect mine. As I passed her she slapped my bottom, to set me blushing again and making the trembling of my hands so bad I could barely hold my tea without spilling it. She sat down, leaving me standing in front of them, fidgeting with my mug and blowing on my tea to try and cool it down a little. Hannah took a sip from her own mug, blew out her breath and then looked up at me.

‘So you met Leary and Sean?’

‘The men outside? I saw them, yes.’

She gave a dirty chuckle that sent a powerful shiver right through me at the thought of the possibilities offered by the presence of the two men. It wasn’t beyond her to invite them in to watch me being spanked, or worse, making me strip for them, even suck their cocks. I really didn’t want to do it, but I knew I would if she told me to, filling me with fresh shame but at the same time setting my so nipples stiff they were making sizeable bumps through my bra and top. Maggie noticed and laughed.

‘Eager are we? Come on then, how about we have those fat tits out?’

‘Yes, get them out,’ Hannah ordered.

Hannah usually pulled my top clothes up when she spanked me anyway, both to humiliate me and because she liked to touch my breasts, so I didn’t protest, putting down my tea and lifting my top and bra to let them spill free.

‘Hold them up,’ she ordered. ‘Play with your nips.’

I obeyed, cupping my breasts and running my fingers over my stiff nipples. Both little buds of flesh felt sensitive and I couldn’t hold back a sigh of pleasure. Maggie gave a derisive snort for my obvious arousal.

‘Tart.’

‘Get your top off,’ Hannah ordered, ‘and your bra. I like my girls topless.’

Again I obeyed, peeling off before I went back to my tea, now completely naked from the waist up. I’d been made to go like that before, and nude, generally after my spanking, flaunting my red bottom as I tidied up her caravan for her or cooked her a meal in nothing but a pinny. It amused her to see me naked, or better still half-naked but made ridiculous in some way, so her next order came as no surprise.

‘Pull your shorts up tight, right up between those big cheeks. Let’s see it all.’

I hesitated, telling myself that as I was going to be spanked anyway a refusal would make little difference. An instant and I’d thought better of it, catching hold of the waistband of my shorts and wriggling them tight up into my bottom slit to leave both cheeks fully exposed the way she wanted. Showing defiance was all very well, but it was more than likely to earn me the hairbrush, and not only the flat across my bottom cheeks but quite possibly the handle stuck up the tight little hole between them.

Most of my bum was now out of my shorts, a display as rude as it was silly, and as I went back to my tea I was acutely conscious of the state I was in, my breasts bare, my bottom spilling out of my jeans shorts and the material at the front pulled up so tight against my fanny that every detail of my lips showed. Twice Maggie had called me a tart and I could see her point. I certainly looked like one. Now she laughed.

‘I can see your panties.’

It was true, the white cotton sticking out around the hem of my shorts where I’d pulled them up tight, adding one more ridiculous detail to the way I looked. Hannah also chuckled to see the state I was in, then adjusted herself in her chair, moving forward just far enough to make a lap. My stomach went tight at the implication, because I’d thought I had a few minutes more of being made to show myself off while she finished her tea, but there was no mistaking the meaning of her gesture as she patted one tree-trunk thigh, or her words.

‘Come on then, let’s give you what you need.’

I got down, unfastening the button on my jeans shorts even as I bent to place myself across her lap and into that wonderful, awful pose, over another woman’s knee with my bottom lifted for spanking. She put one heavy arm around my waist, trapping me in position, and took a grip on my shorts to pull them tighter still into the slit of my bottom. A sharp tug and I was gasping as I was lifted by my shorts, leaving me with my cheeks on yet more blatant show and only a strip of denim and my dishevelled panties to hide the details of my anus and fanny. My bottom felt huge, plump and pink behind me, a great wobbling ball of girl flesh so big and round that I deserved spanking just for being built that way.

Hannah began to touch me up, caressing my cheeks and teasing in my slit, making no effort whatsoever to hide her enjoyment of my body. It was always that way, the actual spanking more my need than hers, but that wasn’t going to stop her doing it, or spare me any pain. Sure enough, she’d soon started to smack, gently at first, just to make my bottom bounce and watch the way my flesh moved to the slaps, then harder, full across my sweet spot until I’d began to gasp and kick my legs.

I couldn’t see Maggie, but I knew she was watching, enjoying the view of my bouncing bottom. Like Hannah she got off on the sight of me bare as much as the spanking, but she had one or two nasty little habits of her own. Not that it mattered, because my bottom was already beginning to warm and I knew that once I’d been properly spanked I’d be unable to resist, whatever they might want to do with me.

‘Time we had these down,’ Hannah grunted and the spanking had paused while her hand went to the waistband of my shorts.

My hips came up to make it easier for her, and as she began to tug them down I closed my eyes, lost in the shame of having my bottom exposed. Not that I’d been hiding much, but the feel of my shorts being jerked roughly down over my cheeks was still so strong that it brought me to the edge of tears. I was being stripped, my boobs already out and my panties no doubt to follow in short order.

They were still in my slit, protecting nothing as Hannah went back to spanking me, save those two all-important details, my bottom hole and my fanny. I could feel the material, sticky and wet on my sex where I’d started to juice, but they were still a barrier, a barrier I needed removed. Maggie laughed to see me so wet and so eager, and because I was sticking my bottom up to Hannah’s slaps in the hope of having my panties pulled down.

‘You can see what she wants!’ she said. ‘Go on, let’s have that fat little cunt showing.’

Her words brought a sob to my throat and then it was being done, my panties tugged out of my bottom slit and pulled down around my thighs. That was it, two quick jerks and I was bare behind, my fanny and bumhole on show as the spanking began once more. It was harder now, powerful smacks full across the crest of my cheeks, and fast, so much so that I’d quickly lost control, bucking up and down on Hannah’s lap and kicking my thighs in my shorts and panties. She clung on, keeping me firmly in place as she spanked me, then abruptly hooking one foot around my leg, to hold me more securely still and incidentally spreading my bottom cheeks wide open.

Now they could really see everything, my wet, open fanny, puffy with excitement, the brownish ring and bright pink centre of my bumhole, winking in my pain and helpless exasperation for what was being done to me. Maggie laughed again, louder than before, encouraging Hannah to spread me wider still and to spank even harder. With that I lost control completely and burst into tears, sobbing my heart out across her lap as my bottom and boobies bounced to the furious rhythm of my spanking.

‘Cry baby,’ Maggie remarked.

‘She always was,’ Hannah agreed.

‘Soft as shit, these posh girls, and they’re all the same.’

Hannah merely grunted and began to spank harder still, until I was writhing in her grip, my hair tossing and my legs pumping, lost to all sense of decency. As usual she’d reduced me to a squalling, spanked brat within a few minutes of my arrival, and it wasn’t going to be long before she’d reduced me further still. My bottom was on fire, the juice running freely from my open fanny, my hole wide and ready for penetration. If she’d invited the men from outside to take turns with me I’d have been on my knees with one cock in my mouth and another in my hand in seconds, then happily sticking my bottom up for rear entry while they took turns with me and I licked cunt for the women.

That wasn’t the deal, not today, but I knew they’d be able to hear my squeals and the sound of Hannah’s palm against my flesh, and that there could be only one possible interpretation of those noises, that the girl they’d seen go into the caravan was now being spanked. The thought drew fresh tears from my eyes, and when the spanking suddenly stopped I was left blubbering across Hannah’s lap with my bottom stuck high and wide, my twins holes an open invitation for entry.

I got it, a finger up my cunt then wiped on my hot bottom flesh before Hannah set to work once more, only this time with her hairbrush. Maggie gave a crow of laughter and slapped her leg in delight at my squeal of shock and pain. I hadn’t even known Hannah had the hairbrush ready, but now realised that she must have put it aside specially in order to give me a surprise. She’d succeeded, because it hurt far more than her hand, so that she had me kicking and writhing again on the instant, so hard that one of my shoes came off. There was a crash, Maggie swore and my spanking stopped abruptly.

‘You stupid little cow!’ Hannah spat. ‘Can’t you be more careful?’

She’d loosened her grip and I craned around, to find that my shoe had knocked over my half finished mug of tea, spilling it on the patterned linoleum that covered the caravan floor. I found myself apologising immediately, for all that it wasn’t my fault at all, but I got no sympathy.

‘You can mop that up,’ Hannah ordered, releasing me.

‘With your knickers,’ Maggie added.

I didn’t even think to resist, slumping to the floor and peeling off my shorts and panties to leave me in nothing but short white socks and a single shoe. My bottom was on fire, my whole body shaking with reaction, my vision a blur of tears as I set to work, crawling on the floor to mop at the spilt tea with my panties. They watched in silence, save for Hannah’s breathing, which had grown hoarse from the exertion of spanking me. Soon I’d finished and I turned to them, kneeling, my filthy, sodden panties clutched in one hand, my chest heaving. I was wet with . . .