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The Boys and Girls are Watching
By Alfamann
Chapter Seven
Despite the fact I had needed to punish Francesca for having the packet of cigarettes in the house, I was actually feeling very confident she was over the worse of her addictive tendencies, particularly the alcoholism which was by far the greater worry. It had been several weeks without any major issues and I was actually feeling pretty damn smug that my highly unorthodox approach was actually going to be successful. It helped me feel better about the obvious sexual gratification I was getting from the whole situation.
However I should have realised it was never going to be that easy. In my younger years I use to love to listen to the “Sunscreen Song” sung by Baz Luhrman. One of its numerous prophetic lines speaks of trouble blindsiding you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday when you least expect it. Never a truer word said. I arrived home from town at 4pm on Tuesday afternoon and immediately became concerned as Abigail had arrived home from school but Francesca had not been at the gate to collect her off the school bus. A quick search of the house and surrounding orchard revealed nothing, so I bundled Abigail into the car and drove the short distance to Paula and Dave’s neighbouring property where they ran their boutique winery.
On arriving I found Paula in her house. She immediately began looking sheepish when I asked her if she had seen Francesca. Eventually she confessed she had picked up Francesca from our house earlier in the afternoon and brought her around for a cup of coffee
“A cup of coffee?” I scowled.
“To be honest there was a bottle of our latest wine on the table and I did allow her to sample it.”
“You did what!” I bellowed. “How could you be so dumb? Just tell me how much the two of you ended up drinking.”
Paula looked close to tears. She realised she had screwed up. “We did have a second glass.”
“And the rest,” I accused.
“No honestly,” Paula defended herself. “As Francesca was finishing her second glass she suddenly began crying and then ran out of the house. She ran across the yard in the direction of your house so I assumed she was going home. Oh, Jane, I am so sorry.”
“Where is Grand-mere Fran?” my 7 year old daughter, Abigail fretted.
Grand-mere Fran is what my daughter affectionately calls Francesca. Grand-mere being French for Grandmother.
“I am not sure, honey. You stay here with Paula while Mummy has a look.” With that I began retracing the track Francesca would have taken if walking the couple of miles back to our house.
On the boundary of our property there is an old disused packing shed and I noticed the door was slightly ajar. I pocked my head in and after my eyes adjusted to the darkness I made out the huddled shape of Francesca curled up in one corner. As she looked up and saw me she immediately burst into tears and began apologizing profusely for what she had done. She admitted she could not believe she had acted so dumbly. She was so ashamed of herself she could not bare going home, knowing she had let everybody down, including herself.
I genuinely felt sorry for her and decided nothing would be served by berating her at that point, so I held her tight and let her cry before walking her the rest of the way to our house. I rang up a very relieved Paula to tell her Francesca was okay, and a short time later she dropped off Abigail, who was much relieved to see Grand-mere Fran. Paula did not wait around as she could tell I was angry.
Francesca was covered with grime from being in the old packing shed so I ran a bath for her and Abigail to share. When Francesca re-emerged she was wearing her bath robe and looking a lot more composed. She joined me in the kitchen for a coffee.
“Can you ever forgive me?” Francesca gazed at me with sad puppy dog eyes, but I knew her regret was genuine.
“Yes I can,” I answered honestly. “You at least had the sense to stop drinking before you fell off the rails. And for that you can be applauded. But you know you will be punished, and punished severely?”
“I know. I deserve to be punished and I want to be punished as a reminder to never, ever, act so dumb again in my life.”
I had not given thought as to how Francesca might be punished, but I knew a simple one-night hand spank would not suffice.
“You will be punished every night this week until Sunday,” I decided.
“Every night!” Francesca complained. “But today is only Tuesday.”
“Correct. Do you have a problem with that? If you think I am being too harsh then give me you reasons?”
She hung her head. “No, you are right. It is what I deserve.”
“Right. Then your punish starts from now. Hand me your bath robe.”
Francesca stared at me in disbelief. “But I have nothing on underneath.”
I just continued to hold out my hand waiting for her to hand me her bathrobe.
“Jane, dear, please don’t make me do this,” Francesca pleaded. “Abigail is in the house. What possible excuse can I give her for being naked?”
“Perhaps you should tell her the truth. Now hand me your bath robe.”
Reticently Francesca removed her robe and handed it to me. She could not hide the fact she was intensely embarrassed by standing nude in the kitchen in the late afternoon with Abigail wandering around and Olivier due home shortly from his shift at the hospital.
“Now sit down and have your coffee. It is strong and black, and I think you need it to sober up.”
Without argument she slid her naked body onto the stool at the breakfast bar and began to sip her coffee while I continued to prepare dinner. A short time later Abigail strolled into the kitchen in search of a glass of water. The sight of a naked Francesca sitting on the stool stopped her in her tracks. She put her hand up to her mouth and began to giggle.
“Grand-mere Fran, you are so silly,” Abigail giggled. “You forgot to put your clothes on.”
Francesca shuddered in shame. She looked forlornly from young Abigail to myself, embarrassment rendering her speechless.
I decided something had to be said. “Your Grand-mere has behaved like a naughty little girl so she is going to get a spanking from Mummy. And because she has been very naughty she is not allowed to wear clothes as a part of her punishment.”
Abigail nodded wisely, content with my explanation and clearly pleased it was her Grandmother and not her who was in line for the spanking.
After getting her glass of water, Abigail again stared at her naked Grandmother before turning back to me. “Can I watch, please Mummy?”
I couldn’t help but grin and looked over at Francesca whose face was registering high anxiety. I acted as if considering my daughter’s request for a moment, before responding. “I don’t think so, honey. Grand-mere will get such a hard spanking she will be crying so I don’t think it is something nice you would want to see.”
Abigail decided I was probably correct, and Francesca looked relieved, but it was short lived as Olivier’s car pulled up in the yard. Abigail quickly disappeared to greet her father and we could clearly hear her excitedly giving him the rundown on how Grand-mere had no clothes on and she had been so naughty that Mummy was going to spank her. Francesca was looking decidedly sick as father and daughter entered the kitchen, hand in hand. Olivier’s face, not surprisingly, registered amusement, but apart from raising his eyebrows questioningly towards me he acted normally. We all gathered in the kitchen and chatted about our day. All except the naked Francesca, who seemed to have very little to say.
As we went to sit down for dinner Francesca whispered a quick plea in my ear to be allowed to put her bath robe back on but a shook my head firmly. As we seated ourselves at the small dining table, Francesca’s perfect firm breasts were certainly a centre piece that drew your eyes like a beacon.
Even Abigail could not help noticing. “You look funny at the table Grand-mere Fran with nothing on your boobies.”
Francesca blushed with shame. She blushed even more when a short time later she let some sauce drip from her fork on to her left breast, and was all flustered as she had nothing with which to wipe it off. To my surprise Olivier reached for a paper napkin, but instead of handing it to Francesca he made her lean forward while he wiped the sauce off her breast. It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
After dinner a naked and self-conscious Francesca assisted us with washing up. I then escorted her through to the lounge and told her to stand in the corner, facing the wall, and wait for Olivier and I while we put Abigail to bed. She quickly did as she was told, pressing her nose against the wall. Despite the humiliation of having to stand in the corner like a misbehaving schoolgirl, I think she was relieved to be away from the spotlight for at least a few minutes.
When Olivier and I returned almost forty minutes later, Francesca was still standing in the corner as instructed. I requested she move to the centre of the lounge, place her hands on her head, and stand on the tip of her toes. She was confused by my directions, but the confusion quickly turned to alarm when she noticed I was carrying a belt in my hand.
“You are going to be spanked twenty times with the belt. You must remain on your toes, with your hands on your head, and I want you to count each spank and then repeat ‘I have let myself down’. Do you understand?”
Francesca nodded apprehensively to indicate she understood. Olivier had seated himself and watched on expressionless. I stood beside Francesca and did a couple of practice swings. I was, after all, a novice with the belt and it clearly required a bit more skill than spanking with your hand.
When I finally swung the first smack with the belt, Francesca howled in surprise and lost her balance, before quickly regaining her composure.
“Oh my god……one….I have let myself down,” she managed to mutter.
After ten smacks with the belt Francesca was begging me to stop, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. I was determined she would receive her full punishment, but did give her two minutes of rest before administering the final ten spanks.
The following evening I had a meeting to attend and did not arrive home until after eight thirty. I was pleased to see Olivier had taken control of the situation. He had ordered his Step-mother to undress and stand in the corner until I arrived home. Olivier was in the kitchen getting my dinner out of the microwave, and as I walked in there I was surprised to find Dave and Paula also seated at the breakfast bar. Although Dave cheerfully greeted me, Paula’s response was very subdued.
After exchanging small talk Dave turned to his wife, then looked back at Olivier and I. “Paula has confessed to me that she allowed Francesca to drink our wine, and we both agree she acted totally irresponsibly. Don’t we Paula?”
Paula looked over at us and nodded forlornly.
“She is equally responsible for what has happened, and as such we both agree that the appropriate resolution is for Paula to be punished for what she has done.”
“Punished?” I responded. This was an unexpected, but not unpleasant, turn of events.
“Correct. She needs to share the blame and as such she should share the punishment Francesca is no doubt receiving.”
“Okay.” I acted as if I was mulling it over. I turned to Paula, “Is this what you want?”
“It is not what I want, but it is what I deserve,” she quietly responded.
I turned back to her husband, Dave. “If I agree to punish Paula she will be treated the same as Francesca. This means your wife will be naked in front of Olivier and I, and will be thoroughly punished and humiliated in any manner I see fit. Is this what you want?”
Dave agreed without hesitation. There seemed no doubt in his mind. I turned back to a remorseful looking Paula.
“Well…I guess you had better undress.”
My red headed friend looked more than a little distressed by my request. “Now? Here?”
“Yes. Right now. Right here. Totally naked in front of all of us.”
For a brief moment Paula gazed at me defiantly, before her shoulders slumped forward in resignation of her fate. Slowly she began to undress, uncovering her slim but well endowed body covered in freckles. Funny, but a few months ago I would have been outraged and jealous if my best friend had stripped naked in front of my husband. Now it made me perversely delighted, especially as I was controlling the whole scenario. My best friend was prepared to demean herself because I had ordered her to do so.
When Paula was naked I made her remain in the kitchen with us for several minutes while I sat down on the stool at our breakfast bar and ate the meal Olivier had pre-prepared for me. Paula’s pale, freckled skin was flushed with embarrassment. When she tried to place her hands in front of her breasts and pubic region Dave quickly stepped in and ordered her to put her hands by her sides. Paula was shocked by her husband’s actions but quickly complied with his request. As I was about to finish my meal I heard Paula gasp with horror and point embarrassedly at the kitchen doorway. I swivelled around to see my seven year old Abigail standing in the doorway in her pyjamas, clutching her teddy. Paula might have been shocked, but Abigail was clearly unperturbed.
Abigail gazed up at Paula with a knowing smile. “Have you been naughty too, like Grand-mere Fran, and going to get smacked until you cry?”
Paula’s mouth dropped open in shock. She was speechless. The rest of us couldn’t help but smile at Abigail’s matter-of-fact perceptiveness of the situation.
“Yes honey, you are so right,” I intervened, “And you definitely don’t want to watch naughty Paula crying, do you?”
“No way,” was Abigail’s quick response.
With that I ordered Paula to go into the lounge to join Francesca and stand with her nose in the corner. She quickly obliged, while I got Abigail a drink before taking her off to bed.
With Abigail tucked up and asleep in her bed, Olivier, Dave and I went into the lounge where our two lovely ladies were awaiting their punishment. Both of them were standing in opposite corners of the room with their noses against the wall, their naked buttocks beautifully on display. It was truly an erotic sight. The three of us seated ourselves before I ordered Francesca and Paula to come and stand in front of us, and put their hands on their head. Both had the look of nervous schoolgirls standing before the headmistress. They were made to remain like that while I gave them a demeaning lecture about their behaviour. Both ladies were then ordered to stand on their toes while they received twenty smacks with the belt from me, which reduced both of them to tears. Dave watched on with fascination, and I strongly suspected he was more the voyeur than offended husband. As always, Olivier remained professional and expressionless. After the spanking Dave took Paula home, but not before confirming they would be back again the next evening to continue the punishment.
Chapter Eight
The following evening, Thursday, Dave and Paula arrived around after dinner. Francesca was still fully clothed as she had been entertaining Abigail and was just in the process of reading her bedtime stories until she fell asleep. Olivier and I shared a coffee with Dave and an edgy Paula until Francesca finally joined us. The five of us then went into the lounge, where Dave, Olivier and I took a seat and made ourselves comfortable. Francesca and Paula stood in the middle of the room and looked anything but comfortable. I then ordered the both of them to do an excruciatingly slow strip in front of us, each of them taking turns to remove an item of clothing. They could not hide their embarrassment at having to slowly undress in front of our prying eyes. I had already decided that tonight it would not be wise to punish their buttocks again too severely for risk of bruising, especially Francesca who had been spanked with the belt the past two evenings. However to compensate for this I was determined to ensure they were both thoroughly humiliated, which I was sure was going to be every bit as bad as a sound spanking.
When both ladies were naked they were made to place their hands on their heads and slowly keep rotating around so all parts of their bodies were on full display to us.
“Pull your elbows back and push your breasts out,’ I ordered, and both obediently complied.
“Now stand facing each other,” I continued.
Both ladies stood awkwardly facing each other about three feet apart, their breasts jutting invitingly forward.
“Stand closer until your nipples are touching each other.”
Both ladies looked at me disbelievingly.
“Don’t look at me,” I barked like a Sergeant Major. “Get those nipples touching, and keep those elbows pushed back.”
Reticently they both shuffled forward until their nipples just touched.
“Closer,” I urged.
They shuffled closer until they were nose to nose, their breasts crushed together.
“Now open your legs.”
Both ladies opened their legs slightly. I stood up from the couch and stood beside them, then without warning gave both two very firm hand spankings, causing yelps of surprise. They both instinctively moved forward to avoid the spankings which only served to crush their bodies even closer together.
“Do you want me to continue?”
“No,” they chorused.
“Well open those legs up as wide as you can.”
Francesca and Paula both spread their feet wide open. They were so close together that even their pubic regions were touching. Satisfied with the result I returned to my seat to take in the sight. It was intoxicatingly erotic and I could not believe that the men were not of a similar inclination.
I left them in this position for a full fifteen minutes.
“Alright you conjoined twins, stand up and come and face us,” I finally ordered.
Both looked relieved their ordeal was over as they moved to stand facing us, but it would be short lived.
“Turn around.”
Both ladies faced away from us.
“Open your legs,and wide this time.”
Both complied with my order.
“Now bend over at the waist and grasp your ankles.”
Not surprisingly both Francesca and Paula hesitated at this request, knowing that bending forward in such a manner was going to leave them intimately exposed to our prying eyes.
“Is a further spanking required to get obedience?”
Slowly and reluctantly both ladies leaned forward at the waist until they were bent like staples.
“Grasp your ankles,” I reminded them.
The sight of the two of them bent forward, legs spread, and pussies totally exposed was an incredible, almost unbelievable, sight. I had to pinch myself to ensure I was not dreaming. My Mother-in-law and best friend were under my control to the extent they were prepared to degrade themselves in this manner. I soaked up the view.
Incredibly before our eyes Paula’s labia swelled and opened like a flower welcoming the morning sun. A teardrop of her vaginal secretions leaked down on a moist thread like a spider hanging under its web.
A glanced over at my Mother-in-law, the Penelope Cruz look-alike. Her firm, round buttocks framed a vagina that also looked surprisingly aroused.
“I hope you two little sluts are not getting turned on by the shameful manner you are exposing yourselves to us?”
There was a deathly silence.
“Paula?”
“No,” she groaned, none too convincingly.
“Francesca?”
“No, Jane,” Francesca tried to sound offended.
I let the two of them stew on their predicament for several minutes.
“I am not sure we are getting the full truth from you ladies.” I turned to an awe-struck Dave. “Dave, perhaps you might like to run a finger over these little ladies’ vaginas to see just how truthful they have been with us?”
Both ladies did quiet howls of protest, but neither of them moved. Quick as a flash Dave was up from his seat and standing in front of his very exposed wife and Francesca. It was an opportunity he had no intention of turning up. Slowly he ran his finger along the swollen labia of his wife, running it up and down several times. Paula moaned and her legs buckled slightly.
Dave then held his finger triumphantly in the air. “Methinks my little lady has not been very truthful.”
With that Dave turned his attention to Francesca. It had been clear from the first time Dave set eyes on Francesca that he found her a very attractive, exotic female. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought she would bend over luridly and allow him to touch her in such an intimate manner. It was the stuff of teenage wet dreams. Dave let his hand rest on Francesca’s vagina before slowly arching his finger up, then down, her labia and not stopping until he reached her puckered anus. He repeated this action several more times. When he finally held up his finger it revealed Francesca’s moistness. While she was no where near as aroused as Paula, she was clearly not unaffected by proceedings.
“Ummmm,” I pretended to pondered. “It sure looks like to me these naughty ladies are aroused. Perhaps we need the medical opinion of a Doctor?”
I raised an eyebrow and looked over at my husband. I knew this was a real risk on my part. Right from the outset Olivier had remained largely impassive and detached. But recently I had noticed a change in his demeanour that suggested he was not quite as detached as he was acting. Olivier returned my gazed, and appeared to be evaluating the situation.
“Well, Doctor Olivier Le Roy,” I prodded.
With a typically French shrugging of his shoulders he slowly stood up and tentatively took the two steps necessary to be standing in front of his red headed, freckle skinned neighbour and his Step-mother. For a long moment he just stood there, gazing down at the very exposed derrières of the two women.
He then placed a hand on Paula’s backside, before uttering in his strong French accent, “Bend forward more and stick your butt out.”
Paula groaned in utter humiliation at the realisation she was going to be intimately fondled by Olivier. I smiled like a Cheshire cat in the knowledge that my hunch had been right about my husband. He was not the detached bystander he had been making out to be.
Paula stretched down and gripped her ankles lower, further stretching her taut buttocks and opening up her labia even more invitingly. More droplets of her vaginal excretions were beginning to dribble down. Olivier slowly ran the back his hand over her labia, resulting in even more low groans being emitted by Paula. He then flipped his hand over and effortlessly slid two fingers deep into her well lubricated vulva. Paula reacted as if she had received an electric shock. Her body jumped and rippled in short spasms. She was clearly on the verge of an orgasm. Realising this Olivier extracted his fingers and proceeded to remove the juices by wiping them over her buttocks. Paula looked like the ultimate promiscuous woman, bent over totally exposed, her own juices smeared over her buttocks and dripping freely from her vagina. The invitation to be taken was unmistakeable.
Olivier then stepped over to his Step-mother and repeated the process of placing his hand on her buttock.
“No, Olivier, please,” Francesca pleaded.
Olivier ignored her plea. “Bend forward and stick your derrière out as far as you can.”
Francesca groaned as she arched down even further. Her exquisite vaginal region was coated with a matt of short cropped jet dark hair, which was a contrast to the red haired, freckled, lightly covered vagina of Paula. Olivier repeated the process of rubbing the back of his hand gently up and down her vulva. Francesca gave a muffled sigh and one sensed she was desperately trying to mask her emotions, aware of how shameful it would be if she displayed her arousal while being fondled by her stepson.
Olivier then poised his two fingers over the entrance to her vulva, then ever so slowly he began to penetrate her until the fingers were firmly embedded. Stoically Francesca held her emotions in check, although she could not hide her laboured breathing. Olivier kept his fingers deep inside her for what seemed an eternity, almost as if he was testing her ability to restrain herself. When Francesca failed to react he slowly withdrew his fingers before sliding them in again, and continued to repeat this motion a number of times. Finally Francesca could hold back no longer. She let out a long, deep guttural moan like an animal on heat. She swivelled her hips and pushed back towards the fingers that were invading her. Satisfied he had got the response he desired, Olivier withdrew his fingers and walked away, leaving Francesca hanging on the edge of an orgasm.
“Well ladies. I think we have a consensus on this one,” I commented as I stood up, “You definitely lied about being turned on by your punishment, and for this you can expect extra punishment tomorrow night.”
With that Olivier, Dave and I withdrew to leave the ladies to pull themselves together emotionally, as well as find some clothing. Dave and Paula departed a very short time later. Both of them looked flushed and I strongly expect a night of sex was very much on the agenda.
Mind you, Olivier and I were in much the same state. As soon as our guests had left we quickly retired to our bedroom and enjoyed some very intense lovemaking. Neither of us commented on the events of the evening, but clearly we were both very much affected by it.
After the sex I was lying on the bed in a very relaxed state and about to drift off to sleep when I heard the faint noise of Francesca using the bathroom. I felt guilty that I had deliberately allowed her to become highly aroused and then left her high and dry. Even though it was meant to be a form of punishment, I did feel my actions had been selfish. Noticing that Oliver was sound asleep, I put on my dressing gown, crept out of the room and entered Francesca’s bedroom after lightly knocking. The room was in darkness.
“Switch on your lamp.”
Francesca obeyed. The light switched on, revealing her lying on the bed in her nightdress, covered in a sheet.
“Get out of bed, and stand beside it.” I continued.
“Now remove your nightie.”
Francesca was now standing beside her bed, naked. I removed my dressing gown so I was also naked. I had not been undressed in front of Francesca before but it felt surprisingly natural
I sat down on the edge of her bed with my knees hanging over the side. I then placed one of my hands, palm-upwards, on my knee and then pointed two of my fingers upwards.
“I want you to sit on my lap, facing me, but be sure to position yourself so that my two fingers are embedded inside your pussy.”
There was no hesitation on the part of Francesca. She opened her legs and positioned herself on my lap. She lowered herself but realised her vulva was not lined up with my fingers, so she manoeuvred herself about until I felt the warm moistness of her vagina encasing my upturned fingers. Slowly she lowered herself until I was fully embedded inside her. Her body was so close to mine. Her nipples were only inches from my eyeballs, and I could clearly smell her musky aroma. Her skin was soft and warm on my lap.
I gazed into her eyes. “When you are ready I want you to start fucking my fingers.”
Francesca nodded her understanding.
“And you know I want to see that orgasm shuddering through your body. I want it to be so real that I can feel it too.”
Again she nodded.
I reached out my free arm and placed it on her shoulder, pulling her closer to me. Francesca lent forward, her breasts crushing delightfully against my own. She nuzzled her head onto my shoulder, like a resting baby. For a long while we sat in this embrace, letting the warmth and contentment of our bodies envelop us. Then slowly Francesca’s body began to rock gentle up and down on my fingers, initially only travelling a short distance. The rhythm increased, and with it the strokes up and down my finger became longer and more intense. I could feel her body becoming warm from the exertion and her increasing arousal
However Francesca did not want to rush, as I sensed she was at peace with herself and enjoying the sensations. When she could feel herself going over the edge she forced herself to slow down, then gradually build up again. This was repeated many times over the next twenty minutes or so, until finally she could hold back no longer. She grunted loudly and her body pulsed rapidly up and down my fingers. When the orgasm hit she lent back so that I could see her tummy. She forced her stomach muscles in and out repeatedly as she ground her thighs into my lap. Her whole body was shuddering. I could see she was trying very hard to ensure her orgasm was being vividly displayed for me, so I could experience it along with her. It was then that I felt her hand pressing down on my thigh. I opened my legs slightly and her hand easily slid under me and found my own very aroused vagina. She rammed her fingers deep inside me and I instantly exploded in one of the most intense orgasms I have ever experienced.
Chapter Nine
The following evening, which was Friday, Dave and Paula again arrived just after dinner. It was clear that even though Francesca and Paula were being punished for their stupid wine-drinking incident earlier in the week, the punishment sessions were now overlaid with a high degree of sexual tension, especially after the previous evening. I knew I was responsible for letting this happen, but surprisingly I felt no guilt. It was hard to let guilt get in the way of something that was so enjoyable. Call me selfish. I don’t care.
Once we were satisfied Abigail was asleep the five of us moved into the lounge. Olivier, Dave and I seated ourselves, while Francesca and Paula stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.
“Tonight you are both going to be punished by the three of us,” I announced. “You will be punished in any way we choose. Do you understand?”
They both nodded.
“Right. Paula, I want you to slowly undress first, and hand each item of clothing to me.”
Self-consciously Paula removed each item of clothing and handed them too me. Eventually she was wearing only her purple lace panties.
“What pretty panties,” I complimented, “Did you buy them especially for us?”
Paula nodded, embarrassed.
“I hope when you remove them there is not going to be a big wet stain right where there shouldn’t be. It would seem a shame to wet such pretty new panties.”
Paula cringed.
“Well, are they going to be wet?”
“I hope not,” Paula whispered.
“But you are not sure?” I probed.
“No,” Paula responded honestly.
“Well you had better check for the audience and put us out of our misery.”
Incredibly Paula did not hesitate to pull her panties down low enough so that she could check the crotch.
“Push them down to your knees and leave them there,” I commanded.
Paula obliged.
“Well?” I enquired.
Paula pouted but did not respond.
“Are you wet or are you dry?”
Paula blushed in such a manner that an answer was not necessary, but I kept pushing.
“You are wet, aren’t you?”
Paula nodded.
“Answer me.”
“Yes….I am wet,” she finally admitted.
“You are such a wanton slut, you realise that don’t you?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
I shook my head as if in despair. “Keep you panties around your knees but open your legs as wide as you can.”
Paula slid her legs apart and stretched the thin fabric of her panties as wide as she could.
“At least with your panties down there they won’t get stained by your cuntie juices any more.”
I then turned my attention to the Mother-in-law.
“Come forward Francesca. It is your time in the limelight.”
Reticently Francesca stepped forward.
“Undress until you are down to your panties,” I directed.
Despite the audience, Francesca managed to remove her clothing in a manner that bordered on graceful. She then stood before us wearing only her panties.
“What question do you think I am going to ask you now, Francesca?”
Francesca cringed, “Whether my panties are wet?”
“Correct. Why don’t you take a look for us and let us know?”
Francesca lowered her panties to mid thigh and inspected the fabric. The fact that she inspected them so closely demonstrated to us she was not really sure either way.
She looked up, relieved. “They are dry,” she proudly announced.
“Good girl. Let’s hope they stay that way. Lower your panties to your knees and open your legs.”
Francesca did as requested.
“Now keeping your panties at you knees and your legs open, I want you to take turns lying over our laps and politely asking to have your bottom’s smacked.”
The two ladies hobbled over to us, with Paula electing to go over her husband’s knee first, while Francesca draped herself over mine. Each requested to be spanked on their bottoms. After receiving a sound spanking Paula came and laid herself over Olivier’s knee while Francesca did the same for Dave. She was putting off having to lie over her son’s knee. Each again requested a spanking and they certainly got what they asked for. Both ladies were tearful by the time the last rotation came. Francesca could no longer avoid the task of going over Olivier’s knee, and bashfully she hobbled over, with movement difficult because of the request to keep their panties at their knees while keeping legs apart. She lowered herself over his knee, while Paula did the same over my knee.
As I spanked Paula I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to start rubbing her pubic bone against my thigh, seeking to stimulate her clit.
“Are you rubbing your pubes against my leg?” I tried to sound stern, but could not suppress a smile.
“No,” Paula whined.
“Yes you are, you naughty girl. Stand up, and keep those legs open.”
Paula stood before me, spread-eagled.
“I think you can stand up Francesca, and do the same.”
Francesca obliged, standing up and opening her legs as wide as her panties would allow her.
I leaned forward and slid my finger along Paula’s labia. When I withdrew my finger and held it up for all to see it was no surprise to find it was glistening with her juices. As I leaned over to repeat the demeaning exercise with Francesca I found Olivier had beaten me to it. He was already running his finger between her pussy lips. Initially his finger remained relatively dry of her secretions, but Olivier repeated the routine several times, each time increasing the pressure as his finger moved up and down her labia. Finally Francesca gave a telltale moan and this time when Olivier removed his finger it was decidedly moist.
“I know what these ladies need.” To my amazement it was Olivier stepping up and taking control. For the time being I was happy to take a back seat.
“Take off your panties and hand them to me,” Olivier directed.
For a moment they both looked startled that Olivier was issuing commands and this was new territory for them. With some reticence they both removed their panties and handed them to Olivier. But instead of just putting their panties aside, he took Paula’s ones and made Francesca hold them with her teeth so that they were suspended from her mouth. He then repeated the exercise by putting Francesca’s panties in Paula’s mouth.
“Now, if either of you drop the panties from your mouth you will both receive a double punishment. Is that understood?”
The ladies nodded, unable to speak.
“Now open your legs as wide as you can.”
Francesca and Paula did as requested, sliding their feet wide apart.
“Come on, you can do much better than that,” Olivier barked, definitely the hard task master.
They strained their legs open even wider. Both of them looked a sight of stunning erotic submission. Francesca with her near-perfect body; unblemished pale skin set off by jet black hair. In contrast Paula was a more angular, bony build with bigger hips and boobs on a small frame, finished off with red hair and a body that was covered with freckles everywhere except her buttocks.
“Put you hands on your head,” Olivier continued.
With that Olivier walked behind Paula and brought his hand down below her crotch. My initial thought was that he was going to fondle her very exposed vagina, but I was proven wrong. With a swift action he brought his hand up and spanked her wide-open pussy. We all jumped with surprise; however Paula certainly jumped the most. She was taken totally by surprise and jumped forward, dropping the panties from her mouth and falling ungracefully into my lap. Hurriedly she picked herself, swooped up the panties and put them back into her mouth before resuming her position.
“What did I say would happen if you dropped the panties?” Olivier whispered into her ear.
“Dats dot fair,” she struggled to say through the panties.
“Life can be so unfair at times, can’t it Dave,” Olivier smiled over at his neighbour.
“Sure can,” Dave responded, “And your instructions were so clear.”
However instead of continuing to spank Paula, Olivier stepped behind his Mother-in-law. He reached around and withdrew the panties from her mouth.
“You know what is going to happen to you now, don’t you,” he spoke into her ear like they were sharing a secret.
“I think so,” Francesca responded tentatively.
“Then tell me.”
“You are going to spank my pussy?”
“You are so right. Have you ever had your pussy spanked before?”
Francesca hesitated, seemingly in two minds as to how to respond.
“You have been pussy-spanked before, haven’t you?”
Francesca looked down at the carpet. “Yes, but it was a long time ago,” she blushingly admitted.
“Well, don’t keep all of us in suspense.” Olivier was not holding back on his Step-mother.
“When I was a young teenager I once went out with some of my friends and forgot that my brothers had invited the neighbourhood kids around to see me expose myself on my bed.”
“And?” Olivier urged her on.
“When I did get home my brothers were very angry and I felt really bad. So we agreed that the next day the kids could all come back, and as a way to say sorry to them I was to lie naked on the bed with my legs open and let all the kids take turns at spanking my pussy. It was really tender by the time they finished.”
“Did your brothers spank your pussy as well?”
“Yes,” Francesca replied, embarrassed by her admission.
“Is that the only time you had your pussy spanked?”
“Well….your father has spanked it a few times when we were making love,” Francesca admitted.
“Did he just,” Olivier pondered, “Well it is going to be a case of ‘like father, like son’, isn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“I guess so, too. Are your legs opened as wide as they will go?”
Francesca strained to open her legs an inch or two wider. The muscles on the inside of her legs were stretched taunt.
“I can’t get them any wider,” Francesca’s voice sounded strained from the anxiety, possibly mixed with the erotic tension that had built up.
“How do you feel about being spanked on your pussy by your son?”
“Ashamed,” Francesca’s eyes were downcast.
“Ashamed? So ashamed that your pussy is wet. Do you realise that your lips are wide open?”
I could not believe the extent Olivier was prepared to make his Mother squirm.
“Admit to me you also find it a turn on to be spanked and humiliated, even if it is by your own son?”
Francesca’s eyes remained downcast and she gave no response.
“Be truthful with yourself Francesca. Look your audience in the eye and tell them you find it a turn on to be spanked and humiliated.”
Slowly Francesca raised her eyes and stared at us with those beautiful round puppy dog eyes. “I am ashamed to admit I do get turned on by being spanked and humiliated.”
Satisfied with her admission, Olivier reached around and replaced Paula’s panties in Francesca’s mouth. “I want you to set a good example to Paula by not moving when you are spanked, and certainly not dropping your panties.”
Francesca nodded, and with that Olivier swung his hand from between her legs and connected squarely on her vagina. Francesca grunted but held her stance. Olivier repeatedly spanked her pussy a dozen times, and when he had finished I was surprised how red her pubic mound was. I did not realise it would go so red from a spanking. Francesca’s eyes had welled up with teardrops but apart from that she had weathered the storm well.
Olivier stepped back to be behind Paula, and briefly removed the panties from her mouth. He leaned close to her ear.
“Let’s do some maths, Paula. If Francesca got a dozen spanks, how many are you due for?”
“I suppose two dozen?” Paula responded ruefully.
“Good girl. Go to the top of the class. So, are you ready this time?”
“I think so,” she responded tentatively.
“Are your legs open as wide as they will go?”
Like Francesca, Paula managed to widen her feet an extra few inches.
“Why don’t you also tell your audience you get turned on by being spanked and humiliated, because your cunt is dripping wet.”
Paula looked up at Olivier, Dave and I. “I don’t understand why, but I do get turned on by being spanked and humiliated,” she confessed.
Olivier then proceeded to spank her pussy soundly. She was so wet her juices were literally spraying each time Olivier’s hand connected with her pussy.
Chapter Ten
The following day was Saturday and the husbands, Olivier and Dave, left early in the morning for a scheduled weekend fishing trip in the Bay of Islands, north of Auckland where we live and were due back Sunday. At least this is what Paula and Francesca believed was happening. In truth, the men were going fishing with a group of Olivier’s medical friends from the hospital, however it was only a day trip and they were scheduled to come back later this evening for a little surprise ‘party’ that Olivier, Dave and I had conjured up. We had also arranged for our seven year old, Abigail, to stay with one of her friends for the weekend.
Paula and Francesca had been told in advance they would still be punished by me on Saturday night, and this would be the last of their scheduled punishments that had resulted from Tuesdays wine drinking incident.
Late morning Francesca and I drove around to collect Paula and take her up town for coffee and a muffin at our favourite café. This was followed with hair appointments I had made for both Francesca and Paula. Paula very rarely ventured to a hair salon and instead preferred to let her red curls grow freely below her shoulders. She therefore needed persuasion to even attend the hair appointment, despite the fact I was picking up the tab. Paula had earlier agreed I could choose the hair style, and was now regretting this moment of weakness.
However, despite her constant groans of despair she sat still in the salon chair while the stylist cut away her flock of red curls. By the time it was finished her hair was cut short in a modern page-boy style with long swept over fringe. It highlighted the strong contours of her face and made her look very appealing. But what it also did was make her look a lot younger than her actual age of twenty five. She could easily have passed as eighteen or nineteen, especially given her short, slim stature.
Francesca’s hair was kept in her same short cropped, spiked hairstyle that suited her so much, although her jet black hair was highlighted with blonde streaks that gave her a young, glamorous appearance very befitting a woman of her natural beauty.
Following a pedicure for all three of us I drove them back to my house where I had planned the first of what I hoped were going to be many ‘surprises’ for this day. Once we were in the house I ordered both Paula and Francesca to undress. They frowned at me curiously, given it was only mid afternoon, and up to now the punishment sessions had not commenced until early evening. Once they were both naked I told them to stand in the lounge with their noses in the corner until I called them.
Both of them were left standing there for almost thirty minutes before I finally called out to Paula and told her to join me in the bathroom. I had laid a towel out on the tiled floor and Paula was instructed to lie down on her back. Although apprehensive, she did as requested. I then picked up the scissors, razor and shaving cream from beside the hand basin.
“Now open your legs my darling. It is time to get rid of this little thatch of red hair. As pretty as it is, it is time for it to go.”
“But I am not sure,” Paula protested, “I have never shaved my pubic hair before.”
“Well there is a first time for everything,” I persisted, “And now is the time for your love triangle to go. I bet Dave will love it. You will be so sexy.”
Paula was not entirely convinced but splayed her legs wide open, exposing her delightful womanly charms to me. After trimming the hair short with the scissors I set about removing the stubble with the razor. I asked her to lift her legs up so I could remove the hairs around her anus, then I gripped each of her labia and held them while I shaved around her vagina. Incredibly she was already so wet that it was difficult to keep hold of her labia, but finally the task was complete.
Once I had wiped off the remnants of the shaving cream, Paula was instructed to stand so I could admire my handiwork. I was blown away by the visual impact of removing her pubic hair. No longer were her labia partially hidden by her pubic hair. Suddenly everything looked so invitingly exposed and so much more naked. Incredibly she looked even younger now she was devoid of pubic hair, which is exactly the effect I was hoping to achieve.
Paula was then directed to have a shower to clean herself while I called Francesca into the bathroom. Even though her pubic hair was neatly trimmed in a ‘runway’ strip, I was still determined to remove it entirely with the hope it would increase her feelings of vulnerability and submissiveness. It was all part of my plan for the evening ‘performance’.
Like Paula, Francesca also protested being shaven clean, but despite this she still lay down and opened her legs as requested. Her labia were definitely puffy but certainly no where near as aroused as Paula. Once the task was completed I was very pleased with the final result. Francesca, like Paula, now seemed so much more exposed. I had never actually seen a woman in the flesh who had absolutely no pubic hair, and I found it surprisingly inviting. I even contemplated shaving myself, but decided to leave that to another day.
When both women had showered they stood in front of the mirror and for the first time saw themselves without pubic hair. They stood staring at themselves for a long period, and were, like myself, surprised at how much it changed their appearance. Both giggled nervously, unsure of where this was all leading.
I made both women remain naked while we sat in the kitchen and enjoyed a snack and coffee. Afterwards the two of them were allowed to dress as Paula had to head home to feed her pets and Francesca and I had to turn on the irrigation in my organic orchard as we had had a prolonged period without rain.
Paula returned early evening as arranged and we all sat down to a healthy meal prepared by Francesca. To their surprise, I allowed the women to remain fully clothed, and the three of us chatted like old friends normally do. However this evening was not going to be normal.
Once the meal was completed and we had tidied away the dishes, both Francesca and Paula glanced at me nervously. There was an air of anticipation. Once we were in the lounge I seated myself and directed both ladies to undress. When they were naked I made them parade themselves in front of me and show off their hairless pubic mounds. Both were surprisingly embarrassed, despite the fact I had seen them naked a number of time before.
Each of them was made to face away from me, open their legs, and bend over at the waist. For several long minutes I soaked up the sight of their gorgeous nude pussies, winking at me seductively. I then lent forward and gently rubbed my finger along their labia, alternating between each woman. I wanted to ensure both Paula and Francesca were nicely swollen and lubricated. When each of them were moaning softly and pushing back towards my fingers I knew it was time to move on to the next part of my plan.
Directing both naked ladies to follow me, I led them out of the house and across our yard to the shed where we pack the fruit from our orchard. The shed is normally a chaotic mess of packaging materials, but unbeknown to Francesca and Paula it had been totally cleaned up by Olivier and I. The floor area was clear of boxes. Instead of the chaos, there was a ring of sixteen chairs. In the middle of the ring there were a couple of ropes hanging down from the overhead rafter. The sight caused both women to stop in their tracks.
“What’s going on here, Jane?” Francesca nervously queried.
“Yes, Jane, please tell us what is going on,” Paula added.
I gave each of them a cheeky grin, but no response. Instead I beckoned for both of them to follow me into the centre of the ring, and apprehensively they followed, still seeking answers as to what was happening. Continuing to ignore their questions, I firstly took hold of Francesca and instructed her to put her wrists together. Taking hold of one of the hanging ropes I bound her wrists together, and then pulled the other end of rope so that her arms were stretched high above her heads. I secured the free end of the rope to a hook on the wall so there was no chance of Francesca going anywhere. The process was then repeated for Paula so that both naked ladies were secured in place.
I then reached for another rope I had left sitting on one of the chairs. One end was secured around Francesca’s waist, with the free end then pulled down between her buttocks and under her legs. As I pulled it tight I opened her labia to ensure the rope split her in two. Keeping the tension on the rope I threaded it beneath Paula’s legs, up her buttocks and then around her waist. After ensuring the rope had split her labia, I then began to pull it tightly. Both women, who were facing each other, were pulled to within twenty inches of the other and forced to stand on the tip of their toes.
As they began to struggle against their bonds I walked to a light switch on the wall. When I flicked it on, four spotlights burst into life, bathing Paula and Francesca in the light beams. They looked like entertainers in a live stage show, except this was not a stage show one would expect to find on Broadway. Both of them squinted at the bright lights that blinded them from seeing anything of their surroundings.
I left my two lovely ladies suspended in their bondage and went inside to change my clothes in preparation for the arrival of our guests. When I was dressed I walked quietly back over to the yard and into the packing shed. Because of the spotlights neither Francesca nor Paula knew I was there. To my amazement they were both moving back and forward on the rope between their legs while also rotating their pelvises side to side. It was clearly a motion they had worked out that provided stimulation to their labia and clitoris. As I watched their movements became more urgent as they flapped their bodies like a couple of suspended rag dolls blowing in the wind. Paula was the first to groan uncontrollably as she erupted in orgasm. Francesca followed a short time later.
“Bravo, bravo,” I clapped, “That was quite a display.”
“Oh….no,” groaned Paula, “We didn’t know you were watching. You bitch!”
“Now, now, ladies,” I laughed, “Such language.”
“Please let us down, Jane,” Francesca pleaded, “We have been punished.”
“Punished!” I gave an exaggerated gasp of surprise.” Since when is frigging yourself on a rope been punishment.
“Please,” Francesca persisted. “My arms are beginning to ache.”
“Just hang about a little longer my darlings, then I promise you I will let you loose.”
As if on cue, my phone beeped to indicate I had a text message. As expected, it was Olivier letting me know they were fifteen minutes away.
Smiling, I turned to Francesca and Paula. “Well ladies, do you want the good news or the really good news?”
“Umm, the good news,” Paula responded tentatively.
“It is time to be untied, you lucky girls.”
“Oh great,” Paula added like an excited child, “So what is the really good news.”
“The really good news is that it is almost showtime,” I grinned.
“Showtime?” Paula responded, confused.
Francesca was just staring at me with a suspicious frown on her face. I think she strongly suspected the night was far from over.
Without elaborating or answering Paula’s query, I loosened the rope from around their waists and carefully extracted it from between their legs, where it was embedded deep between their labia. Once it was removed I untied the ropes that were suspending their arms high above their heads, and removed it from their wrists. Gingerly they stood in the middle of the circle, rubbing their wrists where the rope had been tied. I walked over and picked up two parcels I had hidden behind one of the chairs, handed one each to Francesca and Paula and indicated they could open their little gifts I had purchased for them.
Suspiciously they tore the gift wrapping off each of the small boxes before simultaneously opening them. Inside they found matching pink knee-length nighties complete with lacy pink knickers. As they gingerly extracted their gifts from the boxes they both gave me a wary frown.
“Put them on,” I prodded, just in case that was not obvious.
“Now….here?” Paula mumbled.
I smiled and nodded. They looked at each, shrugged, and then slipped the nighties on before stepping into the panties and pulling them up.
I stood back to admire them. “You look very pretty.”
The ladies were not so sure.
“They are somewhat….girlish,” complained Paula. “I feel like a damn kid all dressed up for a sleepover.”
“And what about you, Francesca, do you feel like a young girl?” I queried her.
Francesca actually pouted like a discontented teenager. It was so cute.
“Yes I do,” she declared.
I was pleased. This is exactly the effect I was hoping to achieve.
At that moment the noise of vehicles driving into our yard could be heard.
“Oh my God,” Paula exclaimed in panic, “Oh my God. Someone has arrived.”
Talk about stating the obvious!
“Arrived?” I responded nonchalantly. “Oh, so they have. I had better check.”
“Jane, please!” Francesca pleaded desperately, “We can’t be seen like this.”
She was frantically looking for a back exit to the shed but there was none.
I tried to give them a reassuring smile. “No need to panic young ladies. I just want you to stand quietly in the middle of the circle here while I get our audience sorted.”
They both fell into silence when they suddenly realised the arrival of the vehicles was not unplanned. The yard was soon full of the noises of people opening car doors and engaging in excited conversation.
Finally Francesca spoke, her voice tinged with nervousness. “What is happening, Jane? Please tell us?”
For a moment I left them to absorb the noise of the people assembling in the yard, before announcing dramatically, “Francesca, I do believe the boys and girls have arrived. They have come to watch something special.”
“Nooo!” she groaned.
“Yessss. The boys and girls are going to be watching. And tonight they are going to get a double treat as you have your little friend Paula as your co-star.”
“Jane, no!” Paula again pleaded.
“Just think of it. All those boys and girls who will have eyes for nothing else other than your young, delightful bodies. And, oh my heavens, imagine how exposed you will be with those bald pussies hiding nothing. You both will be ravishing.”
“But who are these people?” Paula continued to plead. “Please, I will die with shame if anyone sees me like this. What will Dave think if he finds out?”
“Oh, I think Dave is going to enjoy this special night of punishment.” It was Dave himself who answered his wife’s question.
Both Dave and Olivier had slipped quietly into the shed to check if everything was ready before inviting our guests to join them.
“Dave?” Paula responded, confused. “But you are supposed to be away for the weekend.”
“Let’s just say there was a change of plans,” he grinned.
Olivier gave me a quick wink to indicate I had done well, before moving to the doorway and beckoning the others to join us in the shed. My heart was pounding frantically in anticipation of what might happen.
A group of fifteen or sixteen people filed into the shed behind Olivier and began to take their seats in the ring of chairs. There were excited gasps from a number of them as they laid eyes for the first time on Francesca and Paula in the centre of the ring. I recognised some of the faces as friends of Olivier who worked at the hospital or in related medical facilities. Half of the group I had never met before, but they could well be acquaintances of Dave, or perhaps just hangers-on who managed to invite themselves along when they heard what was planned for the evening. I was surprised to see there were four females in the group, three of whom I recognised as nurses from the hospital.
Francesca and Paula could not see who had arrived due to the spotlights; however they could certainly hear them. They would have been able to sense that there were a sizable number of persons in the shed, and there would be many eyes just focused on them. Both ladies were deathly silent, squinting out at the bright lights, trying to see beyond the glare.
Once everyone was seated I walked to the centre of the ring to stand beside the ladies, splendidly decked out in their short pink nighties. I was a little nervous, but also excited that I was going to get an opportunity to exhibit my dominance over Francesca and Paula. I thanked everyone for coming along, before turning to the two ladies. They both stared at me, wide eyed, and although clearly mortified by the situation they found themselves in, there was also an unmistakable air of excitement about them.
“The boys and girls are all here to watch just the two of you, do you realise that?” I purred softly, but loud enough so the audience could hear.
“W-w-watch us?” Paula managed to stutter nervously. “Watch us do what?”
“What normally happens, Francesca, when the boys and girls come to watch?”
“I have to lift up my clothes so they can see my breasts,” Francesca responded, mortified at having to describe her real life based fantasy.
“You are going to expose your breasts! You young ladies are going to expose your boobies to the boys and girls!” I tried to sound as if I was shocked by her admission.
I turned to the audience. “Is this what you want? Do these little lassies need to expose their boobies?”
They are agreed they would enjoy it very much.
I turned back to the hapless pink twins, fidgeting nervously as everyone looked on in anticipation.
“Lift up your nighties and show everyone your breasts. Make sure you lift them right up to your neck.”
Both stood motionless, before Francesca reached down, took hold of the hem of her nightie, then slowly raised it above her shoulders, exposing her near-perfect body and breasts.
There was a unison of approvals.
For a while longer Paula stood frozen, then with a deep sigh of resignation she followed suite, revealing her small beautiful frame covered in freckles.
Again there were widespread murmurs of approval. Both women were ordered to slowly rotate around so everyone could get a good view of their exposed breasts. The audience were very complimentary. I let them continue for several minutes before I turned to Francesca again.
“So what happens next, Francesca?”
“I have to show them my….my pussy” Francesca whispered
“We cannot hear, Francesca.” It was Olivier speaking from somewhere in the outer circle.
“My pussy,” she repeated louder for her son.
“Well, I think we had better do that then,” I continued. “I think it might be best if you remove your pretty pink nighties first, and then I would like you to lower your knickers down to your knees.
I could see both of them were shaking with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. But I knew there was no way neither of them would disobey my request.
Again it was Francesca who led the way. I noticed her eyes were becoming glazed with excitement. She pulled her nightie over her head and let it drop to the floor. She glanced over at Paula, waiting for her to follow suite. With a big breath Paula plucked up the courage to also remove her nightie, leaving both of them now only clothed in their knickers.
Francesca then proceeded to put her hands under her waistband, and again waited until Paula had done likewise. Then almost like it had been choreographed, both of them lowered their panties to their knees. As they stood up straight their bald pussies were revealed for the first time to the onlookers. The reactions of the audience ranged from shock to unbridled ecstasy.
Not surprisingly both ladies looked totally humiliated by having to stand naked in front of their audience, even if they couldn’t see them because of the blinding glare of the spotlights. Instinctively they wanted to shield their private parts and both of them fought hard to keep their hands at their sides
“Oh, my darling Paula, you look gorgeous,” husband Dave beamed with pride and members of the audience nodded in agreement. “I love the new hairstyle, and I really love the very close haircut down below.”
Dave’s comments caused a chorus of laughter, which increased the blushing of Paula and Francesca.
“Don’t they just look lovely,” I winked at the audience. “You have just got to love a bald pussy. It certainly makes a female look young and exposed. Don’t you all agree?”
There was loud, unanimous agreement as the anticipation in the audience began to build. They were ready for more.
I turned back to Paula and Francesca. “I think all the boys and girls would like to get a much closer look and feel of your bald pussies. You are to go up to each and every one of them and show them your pussy, and politely ask them if they want to see what it feels like.”
Both at them stared at me aghast, mortified by my suggestion.
“Way you go, Francesca,” I beckoned her forward. “You are the girl with the experience on how to show off your body. You lead the way and Paula can follow your example.
Francesca grimaced and held her ground. She was actually being asked to live out her deep-seated sexual fantasy in reality. Briefly I began to wonder whether she could actually do it. Could she shame and humiliate herself in such a manner. After some hesitation, I finally got my answer. Francesca began to hobble tentatively towards the ring of chairs, her knickers around her knees. She was also shuffling carefully as she was blinded by the spotlights and unsighted as to where the audience were actually seated. She almost fell onto the lap of one of the men in the audience before she realised she had reached the surrounding ring of chairs.
As she stood, her first instinct was to clasp her hands in front of her pubic region, but without being asked she dropped them to her side so her full frontal view was on display to the admiring young man before her.
“Open your legs slightly so they can get a good view,” I urged her on, and Francesca obeyed without hesitation, stretching her pink lacy panties wide.
She stood awkwardly for a moment before requesting, “Would you like to feel my pussy?”
The grin on the young man’s face was all the answer that was needed. He reached out and ran his hand up and down her bald pussy several times. Francesca tensed at his touch and was obviously mortified, but made no attempt to pull away. After allowing the young man to stroke her several times I indicated for her to sidle over to the next person, who was one of the older Doctors from the hospital. He might have been older, but he was no less excited from the close up visual of a naked Francesca with her shaven pussy.
As the Doctor began stroking Francesca I took a very apprehensive looking Paula by the hand and led her to the opposite side of the chairs. I stood her in front of her husband, Dave. I felt he should have the honour of being the first person to stroke his wife’s bald pussy. With a grin spread from cheek to cheek, Dave leant forward and seductively cupped his wife’s pubic region, and made an exaggerated purr like cat. He looked as if he had never had so much fun in his life. I think at that point Paula realised it was her husband who was fondling her and she visibly relaxed. She opened her legs wide and arched her hips towards Dave.
Looking over my shoulder I noticed Francesca moving onto the next seated person, who was one of the three female nurses in the group.
“You are a bit of a naughty girl, aren’t you?” the nurse purred in an English cockney accent at Francesca as she stroked the back of her hand over her pussy.
Francesca blushed in shame as she realised it was a female who was intimately touching her.
“Corr, you are certainly a bit of alright, darling,” the nurse continued, “I wouldn’t mind taking you home to keep my bed warm.”
Many in the audience laughed while Francesca stood shamefaced.
“Well if I can’t take you home, I certainly hope I am going to see more of you tonight.”
“You certainly will, my dear,” I interjected, “That I guarantee.”
Francesca noticeably shuddered following my comment.
I had to prise Paula away from her husband’s ministrations and move her on to the next person in the circle. However she did not hesitate to open her legs as wide as her panties would allow and never flinched when a strangers hand stroked her bare pussy.
Thirty minutes later both Francesca and Paula had willingly paraded themselves around the ring of onlookers. They had the flushed glow on their face that indicated to me they were both getting very aroused.
“Time for the panties to come off, young ladies,” I ordered.
Both pairs of pink lacy panties ended up on the floor of the shed.
“Now I want you both to lie down on the floor on your backs.”
Both observed me suspiciously, but complied with my request.
“Right, now I want those legs raised above your heads so all the boys and girls can have a look at those gorgeous wet pussies.”
Incredibly neither woman even hesitated to do as asked. Lying in the diaper position they bent their knees and lifted their legs up to their chests.
“Legs nice and wide and show the boys and girls what they came to see.”
Both sets of legs were stretched as wide as they could. They were now totally devoid of any inhibitions and I knew they would do almost whatever I requested. Everyone was leaning forward in their chairs. Juices were dripping from Paula’s very swollen pussy. Francesca was almost as well lubricated; with her labia swollen and puffing wide open revelling the pink flesh of her vulva.
“Now start rotating around in a circle so everyone can get a good view.”
Like two turtles stranded upside down on their shells, Francesca and Paula began an awkward, exotic shuffling so they could rotate around and give everyone a great view of what they had to offer.
After they had completed two full circles I let them stand up, fearful they would take the skin off their backs if I left them down their too long. Although I think they were almost beyond feeling any discomfort.
I turned to the audience. “Right, boys and girls, do you think it is time you got to know these pretty young women better?”
Everyone agreed it was. I walked over to the switch and turned off the spotlights, leaving just the normal shed lights on. This meant that Francesca and Paula could clearly see the faces and reactions of the people in the audience, which I felt would add to the degradation they were feeling.
“Okay, Francesca and Paula, I want you to approach every person in the audience, open your legs and ask them if they want to touch your vagina. If they want to insert a finger inside of you, make sure you hold your pussy lips nice and open for them, and make sure you offer to lick their finger clean for them.”
Both ladies grimaced slightly at what they were being asked to do, but did not resist when I led them to the seated audience. I left Paula standing in front of one of the nurses while I led Francesca to the other side of the ring of chairs and stopped her in front of her son, Olivier.
For a moment Francesca stared shyly at the floor, before raising her head and looking Olivier squarely in the eyes. “Please Olivier, would you like to touch my vagina?”
“Certainly, Mother dear. Open your legs nice and wide.”
Francesca obeyed and Olivier began stroking her swollen labia before gently working her clit. Francesca bent her knees so she was open ever wider.
“Would you like to feel inside me?”
Olivier nodded, and Francesca reached down and managed to grip her swollen and wet labia and prise them wide open. As Olivier’s finger slid in effortlessly, Francesca immediately erupted in a volcanic orgasm that shuddered through her body. I smiled as I noticed she was exaggerating the rippling of her stomach muscles so that her orgasm would be visibly exciting to everyone.
I knew it was going to be a long and exciting night. I began to strip off my own clothing as I wanted to be naked and a part of the orgy of excitement.
THE END
Epilogue
I know that you just won’t be able to sleep tonight unless I tell you whether Francesca managed to overcome her alcoholism and smoking. Well, like all good fairy tales, it has a happy ending, and yes she did get off the wagon for good. In fact she started dating the elderly Doctor, and work colleague of Olivier, who was in the audience and got so excited by being able to touch Francesca’s bald pussy. Now he can do it as often as he likes.
Francesca has returned to France to sell off her house in Lyon, and then plans to return to New Zealand and has applied for permanent residency. I strongly suspect her and the sprightly grey-haired Doctor have matrimonial plans in the wind.
As of Paula and Dave. They now hold very special ‘erotic shows’ in the barn at their boutique winery. Attendees need to purchase six cases of wine as an entry fee. Wine sales have rocketed and Paula gets to be naked and humiliated on a regular basis.
As for Olivier and I. I guess you might think I have ended up as a dominatrix, or perhaps running my own addiction reform clinic. Hell no. I am happily a wife and mother. But I have just found out Olivier’s sister, Gabriel, is visiting us from France. And I know she is constantly trying to lose weight, so I am hatching this cunning plan to give her an extra incentive. I am getting wet just thinking about it.
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