Departure Day (Year LXXXIX)
Several minutes later she was back, carrying a handbag….and a French flogger. “Walkies….” she said, untying the leash, “….what name would you wish for the part of pet?” A no-brainer. “Please, Ma’am,” he muttered as he followed her to the sidewalk, “I’m Davydog for the duration.” THWACKK “….Ahhh,” he gasped as the seven strands of sheer suffering struck his shoulders squarely. “Faster,” she hissed, “I’m escorting you to № 69, for two of my firm friends, the Misses Ebenella Yvonne Edith Scranthorpe and Hawthorn Agnes Guillam….” really? THWACKK “….Ahhh,” he repeated, “….both known after their initials….” which didn’t sound terribly promising, either, “….don’t dawdle, Davydog. You’ve only paid for an hour and will want your money’s worth.” THWACKK “….Ahhh.”
Desperately he crawled faster, and then suddenly she started to cross the street. “Oww….Oww….Oww,” he gasped over the irregular cobbles. They reached № 69, and again it was only a tiny frontage. She rang the bell, whilst he waited for the worst. The door opened straight into a lounge, with no hallway and….fuck, they were two fetching floozies, maybe in their mid twenties? “Eyes and Hag role-play with the Trinians togs,” she said as he was pulled inside on his leash, none too gently. Evidently this was so as he inspected them obliquely, taking care not to be noticed Staring At Skirts. Both were rolled up, with what was known as the Tart’s Trademark. Naughty knicks were unlikely, and if either bent down at all, he’d soon be Shopped for Staring At Seats. As for the rest, they were the proverbial Disgrace to the uniform. Both ties were loose, blouses with buttons undone, and much makeup.
He followed them into a small back room. One wall was completely covered with instruments of coercion and correction, the same as studies at The Styx. It was devoid of furniture apart from one important item. “Do you know what this is, Peter?” asked his escort. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, “bad boys are best birched bare over the Block.” There were three sniggers. “Kneel on the lower step,” she ordered, “confess your considerable crimes, and explain to these innocent young Ladies what you do about your animal urges.” Hell….this would be horribly humbling, exactly as he enjoyed it most. “Please….Mesdemoiselles,” he said, “I’m the scourge of saintly schoolgirls in public parks. I have nineteen counts of indecent exposure, and a further forty four felonies of sex-pest telephone calls to be taken into consideration. I enjoy wanking worthlessly with wanton wicked wenches watching….” SLAPP “….Ahh,” he gasped as one of the so-called schoolgirls slapped his face. “I expect he also sniffs knickers, Yvy….” she said, “….the closest he gets to pussy,” added the other. “Indeed,” said his escort, “since this is the famous Panty Pervert Pete.” There were two gasps. “We saw his picture in the Tanningtowne Tymen, Horty,” said Eyes, “SUCH a shocking sinner.”
Then they shimmied up their skirts slightly, with a tantalizing tool tease, exactly as he’d expected. “You’ve sixty seconds to stroke your straining shaft….” said Eyes, “….focus on fuck us….” what wit, “….but stop, should you start to spurt,” added Hag as he took himself in hand. “Uhhh….uhhh,” he moaned, looking into their eyes. Their scornful stares seemed so squirmingly and sordidly scrumptious, “I want cunt….uhhh,” he confirmed, “I can’t get cunt….uhhh….lasses just laugh at me….uhhh….I Lech Longingly Like A Loser….uhhh….so I wank worthlessly with pussy porn….uhhh….after pur….uhhh….chasing panties by post….uhhh….complete with cunt scent….uhhh….as you said….uhhh….I’m a pitiable pathetic panty per….uhhh….vert….” SLAPP “….ahhh….” SLAPP “….Ahhh,” he added at two more slaps. “Time’s UP….” said Eyes, “….and you go down for derrière discipline,” added Hag, with the old-fashioned phrase.
An interesting idiom, sometimes sounded when seniors were swished. It rather related to previous generations of punished posteriors. He bent over the Block with his hands flat on the floor. “Six strokes for starters, in threes….” said his escort, as she set down her crop, and removed a birch from the wall, “….for Stroking At Slits. Think yourself lucky you’re having a quantity dis-cunt….two twats for the price of one.” SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww….” SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww….” SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww..Whacko! MA’AM,” SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww….” SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww….” SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww..Whacko! MA’AM,” he gasped. “Three more for Staring At Slits,” she said….SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww….” SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww….” SWISHHCRACKKK “….Oww..Whacko! MA’AM.” He spread his legs even as his shaft strained, knowing his nuts would be next. “We’ll conclude with a cut to the crotch,” she announced, as she took a tawse, “for Being Bothered By Beating.” Crackk “….URGHHH,” he moaned as she tapped his testicles, in best Tanningtown Templar tradition.
Then he felt his ankles ironed. “Arise,” she ordered, as he did so, aware something else had already arisen. “Seven inches of circumcised sin,” she said slyly, “something I shall sample shortly….” she handed Hag a thirdy new pound note, “….thank you for your time, lovely Ladies. Let’s go, Peter….” she took a pair of stout handcuffs from her handbag, and applied them at his front, “….you can walk this time….but not run.” They each mouthed him a kiss. “UGHHH….UGHHH….BEEP BEEP….UGHHH….UGHHH….BEEP BEEP,” he moaned as they each made him their balls bulb boy. “My thanks too….uhhh….Mesdemoiselles,” he muttered as he followed them out of the room. “It’s been a business doing pleasure with you….Peter,” said Eyes, wittily, “….we’re always available, should you seek the school scene,” added Hag. Something of which he wasn’t exactly short.
Then it was through the lounge, and back out of the house. The street was deserted….completely covered with custard….what wit? “You’ve already enjoyed two delicious damsels’ disdain and disgust for dicks….” she said as they continued along TERTIARY TERRACE. At least it was quicker, now he didn’t have to do Davydog, “….and I shall now escort you to our corner shop. Peter Purvis can purchase a porn periodical….one dear to his dick….” oo..er, yes MA’AM, “….you’re an avid reader of WANKER! I assume?” He nodded, his penis pulsing in the hopes of having another huge helping of horrendous humiliation. “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, “especially after I Feel the shame of taking your favourite magazine to the checkout Lady….” she sniggered….THWACKK “….ahhh.” Several minutes later, they reached their destination.
Newby Newsagents
He pushed open the door, and stood aside to let her pass first. “Thank you, Peter,” she said as she entered what was clearly a small convenience store. “They keep the sordid stuff on the top shelf by the till,” she confirmed, “so it’s not simply stolen. Obviously it DOES mean having to ask for what you want….which will make matters much worse.” He padded across the shop with her….oops, since the cashier was simply stacked. He could only see her top half, however her upstairs assets were considerable….and he wasn’t even a boobs boy. She wore a short black crop top with a polo-neck collar, and given the clear outline of two naughty nipples, a brassière was unlikely. According to her name-badge, she was Barbara. “Good morning, Sarah,” she said, “I presume you’re presenting me with another prospective pervert purchaser of porn….?” she stood haughtily, hands held on hips, “….state your sin, sonny.”
He took a deep breath. “P..Please….Miss,” he stammered, “I’d like a copy of WANKER!” She smiled, somehow scornfully and scrumptiously. “Why am I not surprised….?” she mused, as she took it down from its shelf, and placed it onto the counter, “….three new-pounds, please. Though why you want it’s another matter, since surely you’ll be screwing Sarah shortly….” which wasn’t the point, however his Hostess happily handed over an NP3 note, “….thanks.” He picked it up with both hands, since he was still handcuffed. “We’re done, Peter,” she confirmed, as they both turned to go. “A neat little bottom,” called out Barbara, “simply Asking for any amount of agonies….” so another two dollars for his mythical collection, of when it was complimented, “….give it a little something from me.” THWACKK “….Ahhh,” he gasped as his escort obliged. Then he followed her of the shop, and closed the door. “The shop’s also known as Nubile News….” she said as this time they crossed the cobbles, “….for fairly obvious reasons.” Myfanwy Smith had once mentioned how it had an alternative name, but hadn’t disclosed it. This had been prior to his poke with Ball Busta Bertha. “Who’s the beautiful Bimbo with the….well, big prospects, Ma’am….? THWACKK “….Ahhh….I mean the innocent young Lady in the shop.”
She smiled, “Her first name you already know,” she said, “with a surname of Boolean….as in algebra. Can you guess her nick?” Easy-peasy. “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, “I’d say Babs Boobs….” THWACKK “….Ahhh….but I’ve basically become a convincing comiconomenclaturist….” SLAPP “….Oww,” he gasped. “As indeed I overheard you telling another customer at the Stern Maiden,” she said wryly, “when you were once….well, Waitressing. You claimed it was a collector of funny names….” she paused, “….she subsequently told her darling daughters and naughty nephews how she should invite you to spend a day at the seaside….and swish them all soundly. Did you ever do so?” He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, “together with some sea and sun….although no sex.” She sniggered softly. “So you failed to find a fuck?” she asked, teasingly. “Not at all, Ma’am,” he replied, “since I returned with offers from five floozies. They’ll have to stay on my to-do list for a while, until I’m at Slappham Sands again.” Which was unlikely to be for quite a while….unless he’d failed his A-Levels? She stared at him with degree level doubt, although it too was totally true.
Then they reached № 10….uh..huh, since they weren’t stopping, but continued a few feet further to № 12. Oops….as she beckoned him towards the coarse, rope-covered whipping post. He’d seen it sited in one corner of the patio on his previous visit. “Give me your porn purchase, and Arms UP,” she ordered. He did so, as she hooked his handcuffs high, and padlocked them onto a peg. There were several such, presumably to cater for a variety of vapulation victims? Then she likewise locked his ankle irons to the post. The front door opened, and Agnes Rosemary Shufflebotham emerged. She was wearing a black business suit, otherwise identical to his Hostess. “Hello again….Peter,” she said, “Sarah’s requested the use of my Post for a few minutes….” Ohh, “….although today, I’m only an appreciative audience, rather than the actual applier of agony….” thirdy new pounds’ worth, he suspected? “….your seat says you’ve already been a bad boy.” Not half. “Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, “with some Staring and Stroking At Slits, at № 69.”
She giggled girlishly. “Those two Trinians Tarts are terrors with their teasing twats,” she agreed amiably, “however you’ve further flogging to follow, before fucking my firm friend’s fancy.” Indeed, he agreed. “Please, Ma’am,” he said to his escort, “might it count as some sort of Sex Thrashing for screwing your slit. Even though it’s pre-paid pussy poking, my psyche still says I should still suffer for such sin.” As indeed the Parish Priest had been at such pious pains to point out, earlier.” His escort took off her jacket, and rolled up a sleeve. “Six stinging strokes straight across your shoulders should suffice,” she said, sternly, “although I always appreciate it when a stud states he should pay painfully for his penile pleasure.” THWACKK “….Ahhh….” THWACKK “….Ahhh….” THWACKK “….Ahhh….” THWACKK “….Ahhh….” THWACKK “….Ahhh….” THWACKK “….Ahhh….uhhh….uhhh,” he added, humping himself hard on the hemp….THWACKKKK “….AHHHH,” he shouted at an especially savage stroke. “No humping, Peter,” she ordered, “except me….which you can do imminently, so stand on tiptoes.” He did so, and she released the handcuffs, followed by his ankles. “Thanks, Agnes,” she said, handing over another thirdy new pound note. Not a bad rate of pay, for what was only a few minutes’ work.
“Thank you, Ma’am,” he muttered as he followed his escort onto her own patio. “Screw you soon….Shagger,” said Ball Busta Bertha with a wide wink, before retreating back into her house. “Did you suffer her Scrotum Smasher?” she asked as he padded inside. “Yes, Ma’am,” he confirmed, “although I’m rather relieved it wasn’t totally terminal to the testicles.” As he’d expected, the layout of her house was similar to the two others he’d sampled on the street. He looked around the lounge, which at first sight seemed quite conventional. “As a disciplinary Domme….” she said as she shed her skirt, and folded it to the floor, “….I prefer putting punters over the Poking Pouffé….” she pointed towards it, “….are you happy to be screwed in the Superior style….” he nodded, “….my panties ARE purchasable, should you seek a memento of our meeting….” or mating, as she shimmied them down, and suddenly he was Staring At Slits again, “….over you go, in the Backbreaker Submission Position. It’s inversion, in incredible inferiority.” He knelt. “AHH….” he gasped, backing himself up, and his sore shoulders scraped across the angles, “….AHH,” he added as they were followed by his equally sore seat. “Arms backwards onto the floor,” she ordered, “so your hands are well out of harm’s way. I don’t want them taking liberties with my tantalizing tits.” She thrust them out as him as she spoke, so clearly this was also a tease.
Then she stood astride him, and stared down similarly scornfully. “First of all,” she said, “you can be my balls bulb boy.” She took hold of his testicles. “UGHHH….UGHHH….BEEP BEEP,” he gasped, stitching the required smile. “When did you last fuck a floozy’s fancy for free, Peter?” she asked, mockingly, “last month….year….or is it sometime never?” He smiled slightly. “Yesterday evening, Ma’am,” he replied respectfully, “except it was six sluts….” SLAPP “….Ahhh….I mean innocent young Ladies.” She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure I believe you….or all the stuff about Slappham,” she said, as she stroked his straining shaft against her slit. “UHHH….honestly, Ma’am,” he asserted, “since it was The Shagger….UHHH….. S♀ciety….UHHH….my own Cute Cunt Club….” SLAPP “….Ahhh….so sorry….UHHH….again.” She shrugged. “Hopefully, I’ll manage to make mine more memorable,” she said, “quality coitus, if not quantity cunt.”
Needless to say, she didn’t rate any slap for the Vulgarity. As always, this was only for villains….especially ones which wanted to violate a vivacious vixen’s vulva. With the best will in the world, he couldn’t count her as virtuous. “I shall flog your front whilst we fuck,” she announced, “but we won’t worry with protection, since Sir Digby Vaillance vouches for you.” Damn’ indecent of him. “UHHH….” he moaned as she poked his pulsing penis into her pussy….THWACKK “….AHHH….UHHH….” slowly, his shaft slithered inside her slit until she was fully fucked. “My labial lips must have been more lubricated than I’d thought, Peter….uhhh,” she said as she started to hump him gently, “so obviously my orifice has been enjoying the erotic exigencies of escorting as well….uhhh….I suppose you’ll be telling me you know what the Big Word means?” He nodded. “Yes….UHHH….Ma’am,” he gasped, “exigence is exacting or demanding….” THWACKK “….Ahhh,” he added. “Nobody likes a clever….uhhh….dick,” she said, “did you study English….uhhh….at school?”
Desperately he attempted to avert the mental mire which was his memory at the moment. “UHHH….yes, Ma’am,” he replied, “but….UHHH….not at A-Level….UHHH….I have a book entitled….UHHH….Grahame’s Guide to Grandiloquisms….UHHH….which details a large number….UHHH….of such specimens….UHHH….please Ma’am….UHHH….I’d be hon…UHHH’d if you could cum….UHHH….since I’m only a phallus for your fancy’s per….UHHH….sonal pleasure….UHHH.” She shivered. “Very considerate, Shagger….uhhh,” she replied suddenly reverting to his own name, “there’s precious few punt…uhhh’s who take the tack of worrying with the lovely Lady’s naughty needs….uhhh….especially when the pussy’s pre-paid….UHHH….OMG….UHHH….I’m cumming….” THWACKK “….AHHH….” THWACKK “….AHHH….” he gasped as more blows rained down, “….YESS….YESS….YESS….” she stopped screwing for a long second, and smiled, “….now it’s your tool’s turn, so spurt soundly, Shagger.”
He gritted his teeth, and thought of his Missus rather than England. “UHHH….UHHH….MA’AM,” he moaned, “hit me HARDER….UHHH….” THWACKKK “…..AHHH….UHHH….” THWACKKK “….AHHH….UHHH….I’m falling over the edge….UHHH….UHHH….YESS….YESS.” She stopped screwing as he spurted several times inside the slit which was Strict Sarah. He could see her staring down into his eyes with a slight smile….and an expression of a good job well done.
“Uhhh….” he moaned as she lifted herself off, and his soft shaft slipped out, “….ohh….ohh,” he added as she unlocked his handcuffs and ankle irons. Gratefully, he keeled over and slowly stood, even as she offered him a tissue. “Thank you, Ma’am,” he said, rubbing his wrists ruefully before accepting it and tidying his tool. He glanced up at the wall clock, which read 12.59pm. Punctuality was always paramount to professional prostitutes, since time was their meal ticket. “When’s the wedding, Shagger?” she asked. “It’s at the end of august, Ma’am,” he replied. “I saw your spouse-to-be settled for my services,” she said, “so she’s sensible….and I suppose screwing all sorts of studs similarly. It’s always helpful to have hubby’s Happy Hookers on the housekeeping. It means marriage needn’t be monotonous monogamy, and stops sex becoming stale….although you’ve suggested no shortage of slit.”
She winked once, “Ohh,” he gasped, as unexpectedly she stroked his cheek with her free hand, and her touch was 1000V. “I’ll get dressed in DV 1, Ma’am….” he continued, as he saw her holding WANKER! “….on the way to the railway station….” he followed her to the front door….SMACKK “….Oww,” he gasped, “SUCH a shockingly sinful stud,” she said, “but it WAS kind of you to have me cum, and it’s a pity more punters don’t do so. I suppose you’ll be telling me next how you offer out oral appreciation?” He nodded neatly. “Most certainly, Ma’am,” he confirmed, “although in your profession, I appreciate it’s unlikely you’d wish to utilize my expertise.” She rolled her eyes. “Try me,” she said huskily, spreading her legs.
He knelt, leaning forward towards the fancy he’d just fucked. “UHHH,” she moaned as he tongued twat. In the circumstances, the long licks would hardly be needed, “OHH,” she added as he separated her labial lips. “UHHH,” she moaned he delved deep and diddled her clit before sucking it into his mouth. “UHHH….UHHH….bite me, you bastard….” so unbelievably, yet another pussy pain pervert, “….AYEEEEE….” SLAPP “…..AHHH….” SLAPP “….AHHH,” he gasped as she struck his cheeks with the porn periodical, “….YESS….YESS.” Slowly he stood, and she stuck it under his arm. “Thank you, Shagger….huhh,” she huffed, “it does go some way towards restoring one’s faith in fellas….huhh….I too shall say screw you soon….huhh….even though I’m aware the likelihood’s low.”
She mouthed him a kiss, as he padded away across the tiny frontage to where Alf The Elf was waiting respectfully with the Rolls’ rear door held open. “Ahhh….Ahhh,” he gasped as the seat reminded him of his raw rear and some sore shoulders. Quickly it closed, and seemingly seconds later they were away again along TERTIARY TERRACE. Then it was past NEWBY NEWSAGENTS, and onto the main road towards the town centre. “Madam’s made the purchase of your train ticket, Sir….” said the chauffeur, as David buttoned his shirt and tied his tie, “….she put you First Class, on the assumption you’d be wanting to play the well-heeled corporate executive. You’ll find it in your wallet….less a quantity of cash to pay for HER ticket, too. She stated what was yours was hers….or would be shortly, since it was a sort of Start-As-You-Mean-To-Go-On.” Very reasonable, as he added his jacket. “Ahhh….ahhh,” he gasped as he shimmied up his trousers, and the hem scraped all across an aching arse.
There were several sets of road works, and they were making poor time….even as he completed his socks and shoes. “You’ll find a spare copy of Country and Castle in the pocket, Sir,” said the chauffeur, “in case you wish to be more discreet on your train journey.” A facility he’d provided once before. “Thank you, Alfred….” he replied, as he extracted it and slipped it over his porn periodical, “….ever-efficient as always. The traffic was worse through the town centre, and finally they reached their destination. “Until August, Alfred,” he said, stepping out of DV 1 and striding across the station forecourt. Inside the building, he checked the departure board. It was nearly 2pm, and he’d missed the 1:20pm by a wide margin. No matter….since the later 2:20pm train at platform 2 was the express. It would actually arrive earlier, as he’d once found out the hard way, not calling at every pillar and post. So he’d a few minutes in hand, and might as well waste a while loitering at Station News & Magazines.
Idly, he cast his eyes over the top shelf, which contained all sorts of cellophane sealed sin. Obviously the proprietors weren’t happy having possible perverts which weren’t purchasers. But one caught his eye, and under the clear wrapping he saw issue 1 of CFnm….so it was obviously a new porn periodical. He’d HAVE to buy it, since Clothed Female naked male was one of his favourite filthy fantasies. As indeed he’d been paying and playing for the past hour. “Three new-pounds please, Sir,” said Tyler Morley, with a knowing wink. He handed over a NP3 note to Marley Tiles, as she’d probably been known, and strode from the stall, “Huhh….huhh,” he huffed, ascending the footbridge….so chalk up another for Ava Frasch. The Head of PT had continually claimed he was out of condition, and perhaps rightly so.
Several minutes later, the train pulled in, and he scanned the carriages. He selected a First Class one, boarded it and strode along the corridor until he found an otherwise empty compartment. This he entered, bagged the facing window seat, and put the magazines onto the overhead rack. “Ahhh….” he gasped, sitting down, “….ahhh,” he added as he sat back. It was obviously going to be a long and painful journey, and the train started away. He watched whilst the platforms of TanningtowN JunctioN slid past, for what might well be the last time? After all, his parents might well drive him to Summer School. “Tickets please, Sir?” asked the Conductor cordially, as he stood by the door.
He handed it over, noting the name-badge was MartiN MitteN. Presumably it had been Marmite at school? “One First Class single to LetchhamptoN TowN Sir,” he said, “don’t you like it here….?” ha bloody ha, and not the first time he’d been treated with the well-worn witticism, “….we’re due in at half past five. Have a nice day, Sir.” He slid the door shut and left him to his own devices….or deviances. It was time for some rest and recuperation, and to let the train take the strain. The miles marched, he felt himself becoming drowsy, and closed his eyes.
Suddenly, he felt the train slowing to an abrupt halt. He peered out of the window and was able to confirm they’d magically arrived at LetchamptoN TowN. Automatically he arose, and cast his eyes around, looking for luggage. Belatedly, memory confirmed how his had travelled independently….apart from two magazines on the luggage rack. Country and Castle they could keep, since if nothing else the cleaners could enjoy reading it in the carriage sidings. He rolled up WANKER! and CFnm so their suspect status wouldn’t immediately become known. Then he left the compartment, ambled along the corridor and disembarked onto the platform.
There was no further ticket check at the barrier, so he was able to step straight onto the concourse. He glanced around to see whether there was any sign of Flower Power, however there was none. Apparently the florist was gone for good, and there was a better living to be made as Miss Thrash. To be fair, flogging fannies was probably a more profitable proposition for June Misselthrush than standing around all day on a draughty station whilst….well, flogging flowers. Now he headed straight towards the taxi rank. In times past it would have been the bus stop, but thanks to the power of patronage, he was now able to enjoy personal transport. He strode towards the long line of waiting taxis….and Piecework was in fourth place. “Hello, Wok,” he said, however the young macho male held up his hand. “Wotcha, Shagger,” he replied, “I’m so sorry, but rules is rules….and the paying punters have to take whoever’s in pole position.”
A problem easily addressed. The first in line was already booking a fare from an elderly Lady, so he strode up to the second. “Where to, guv’nor?” the driver asked. “Here,” he said, “just drive around the rank.” The driver stared at him with some suspicion. “Wot?” he asked. “I don’t need to travel,” he replied, “start the meter if you want….but here’s six new-pounds for your trouble….” he handed over an NP6 note, “….you can keep the change.” The driver tugged his forelock. “Thanks, guv,” he said, “you’re a real toff.” He started away, and seconds later was replaced by the taxi from third place. “Same again, guv’nor?” he asked, clearly having heard the previous conversation. “Yes, please,” he replied, handing over another NP6 note. He too sped away, and was replaced by a grinning Wok Peace. “I’m impressed,” he said, “it must rate as the most expensive mileage I’ve ever seen.”
He opened the passenger door, and gritted his teeth. “Ahhh….ahhh,” he gasped as he sat down. “Is it the old war wound again, Shagger….?” he asked as they started out of the station, “….where to?” They turned onto the HIGH STREET, “It’s home, James,” he said, “to № 8 ACACIA AVENUE on the Alphabet estate….” he paused, “….and yes….since my seat and shoulders are still somewhat sore, by kind courtesy of Strict Sarah. It was seven strands of serious suffering from a French flogger, together with taking the Tanningtown tawse to tush and testicles, and by being birched bare over the Block.”
There was a short silence, as they reached the last of the shops, and started into suburbia. “Did you fuck her fancy, at the end of all the….well, fun foreplay?” asked the taxi driver. “Yes,” he confirmed, “I haven’t a habit of humping Happy Hookers, however my Patron was paying….” he pursed his lips, “….on a tangentially related topic, might I make a couple of advance bookings with you?” The other nodded. “Certainly, Shagger,” he replied, “especially if they’re somewhat shady and suspect.” Which made matters much easier. “My philandering father and I will be visiting Leopard-skin Lucy and Mad Madam Min one evening fairly soon,” he explained, “who, as you may be aware, both live in ALSATIAN ALLEY on the Really Rough estate. It’s actually to do dinner, rather than anything untoward….but you as you know, the best laid plans can go to pieces when put into practice? So I’d like to leave you with thirdy new pounds, to cover two local trips within Lechhampton, date and time unspecified. Most likely it’ll simply be a return ride from my home to SENSATIONALLY and back, but I can’t be sure….” he paused again, “….there’s always the possibility either or both of us will be in the altogether. Are you happy with passengers Driving Dubiously Dressed?”
There was a neat nod. “No problem, Shagger,” he said encouragingly, “since it sometimes happens, for any number of reasons. But I told you before….discretion’s my watchword.” As indeed he’d once said, “….just ask Central Despatch to allocate the fares to me, as being priority prepaid….” there was a short pause, “….I’d REALLY like to thank you for the Adult Detention Class from a few weeks ago. You were kind enough to seat me between Jacks And Sacks The Knacks. As you know, they wrote each other naughty Notes….” yes….since he’d read them out, “….claiming I was an athletic-looking macho male with nice nuts, an adorable arse….and suggesting a Bi-some threesome in the evening. I’m happy to say we duly did so, at Pantiles on THE FOSSE WAY ….” Panties, and THE FESSE WAY, as they were known, “….with some superb screws from two seriously sinful sluts. I was also able to enjoy watching them at work in the sixty nine Position. I’m aware it’s one frequently fancied by favourite and firm female friends, with a little light Lesbian leaning….” indeed, “….but one I’d never witnessed before. Utterly unbelievable….from two so-called respectable married Ladies….” as was so often the case….and their darling daughters were no different, “….their worse halves were both out enjoying themselves at the Class Caning Club.
Alas Michael Murphy turned up whilst I was screwing his spouse on the settee….” Oops, “….I’d thought I was in real trouble….” he winked once, “….but he said Shagger sometimes substituted for his sinful son….” the one which he didn’t actually have, “….and maybe I might do the same? Naturally I was happy to have him hit my hiney hard, with what he called In Loco Parentis….” In Place Of A Parent, “….rather than punching my nose. So after I’d spunked the slut, we adjourned to their so-called Bargain Basement….” what wit, “….where they’ve bought a Birching Block. Apparently he often brings back big bad boys for beating. I’d wondered whether he was a gay guy, but it seems not….except for some light leftwards leanings, I suppose. Anyway I was birched bare, with the wanton wicked Witches watching the whacks….” certainly a scenario which was familiar, “….they told me I deserved the discipline in any event, since it would effectively be a Sex Thrashing. Their combined cunt currencies were a dozen….except the big bastard added another six for Spying At Slits….” thou too, Brutus, “….it was worse when I spunked again, since he successfully swished some semen on stroke sixteen….” his chest heaved, and he braked suddenly, obviously well away on Planet Pain….or Pleasure, “….and do you know what they did to me next….?” he’d a fair idea, “….they put me inside a patent electromechanical Knackering Machine called Ten:PM:GMT….” ten Punishment Methods of Genital Mechanical Torments, “….one of the most terrifying experiences of my life….” he grinned, “….apart perhaps from The Mean Machine….” he’d say Aye to each, “….I honestly thought my gonads were goners when it came to the mystery tenth torment.
Even now it gives me the willies thinking about it. But it was certainly a date with a difference, and my very first Bi-some threesome. I was seriously shaky when I eventually emerged at about….well, ten o’clock, as it happens….” very apt, “….so I drove home uncomfortably, and retired with a really raw rear, empty and exhausted. The following day I needed a cushion for work….” not for the first time, “….anyway, none of it would have happened without your kind offices, so I reckon this ride ought to be a freebie.” He shook his head. “A gracious offer, Wok,” he replied as they pulled into ACACIA AVENUE, “but we all have to eat….” he laid the magazine onto his lap and took out his wallet, “….here’s six new pounds for today, take the rest as a tip….and also the thirdy as agreed.” They turned around outside № 8 and parked. “Thanks, Shagger,” he said as he accepted the notes, “but what’s with WANKER! and CFnm? Why in the world would you want them? You of all studs aren’t short of suitable slit.” He smiled sweetly. “I was obliged to buy it earlier, as accompanied by my enviable escort….” he explained, rolling up the magazines again, and opening the door, “….thanks in advance, for next time.” Wok Peace waved from the window. “I’m looking forward,” he said, “since despite your assurances, it still sounds sinful….” he paused, “….my best swishes to the luscious Lynda, and tell her I’d love to lash and lay her.” He watched whilst the taxi drove away.
Home at last….as he strode up the garden path, and around to the back of the house. He did now have a front door key, but old habits die hard. Seconds later, he stepped inside the kitchen, which was another hive of activity. “Hello….Sir….” said his dad, bending down over the oven in a fetching fashion. The salutation was since he was wearing only his pretty pink Unisex slave apron, together with matching high heels, “….we’re going for a roast chicken platter, with all the trimmings….” he paused, “….we made good time, despite our Slight Snack….” the in-joke shared between his parents, “….at The Stern Master. Lynda loved it, as you might expect. She was swished soundly by Jules, with extra whacks for Soliciting. She asked whether he would raise his fig-leaf apron attire and show his shaft….and then for his phone number, if he fancied a fuck. He declined, perhaps out of professional pride, but possibly worried about what the boss would say.”
Him….in other words, but it sounded just like her. “Is she still here, dad?” he asked, “and what about Mum?” His father started on some fruit salad. “Yes….and no, Sir,” he replied, “she’s showering….” so any time in the next hour? “….since she’s headed for the RFC….” the Letchhampton Rugby Football Club, “….to source some studs….” maybe she might even meet Piecework, should his shift finish soon? “….however your Mother’s gone to DAHLIA DRIVE. Apparently it’s a Bi-some threesome with Dai and Jeanette, and she’s staying there overnight. It means I can copulate with Mitches And Ritches The Bitches in our bedroom….” as indeed he’d hoped, when they’d discussed their deviances a few days previously, “….our guests should be here for seven o’clock. Should you need a suitable shower, by all means evict Lyn. She’s been in there for over an hour….” his point precisely, “….I hope everything went well in Tanningtown.”
He nodded. “Yes, dad,” he replied, “it did….and I’ve arranged for a taxi to take us to Mad Madam Min’s, and back here afterwards….whenever it is.” His philandering father smiled. “We’re set for Monday evening,” he said, “with a two hour slot starting at five, after which she has a booking. Lucy has too….” really? “….apparently one of her former quality clients….” it was always good to be wanted, “….I’ve explained we’ll be bringing everything ready-cooked, and just needing warming.” Fair enough….but he WAS a professional chef, in addition to all his other attributes. “Thanks again, dad,” he said, “I’ll go and sort myself out.”
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