Bargain price
Mr Minley's car crunched up the leaf-strewn gravel drive between trees and strubs resplendant in their autumn reds and browns and golds. The house came into sight against the crisp blue sky. It looked as big as Mr Minley's own house but more shabby, delapidated. And the lawn at the side was uncut, resembling a meadow almost and also liberally covered with more fallen leave. Quite unlike Mr Minley's immaculate sward.
This place is probably falling apart,' he observed as he pulled up before the house. 'And that fellow doesn't seem to be here yet. Anyway let's have a look.' His hand squeezed Susan's thigh.
Susan followed him out. On this warm September morning the delectable Susan was wearing a white sleeveless top and full, calf-length pink skirt with large white buttons down the front, plus white high heels. She had nothing underneath, no underwear. On Mr Minley's instruction of course. Sometimes she was allowed to wear underwear and sometimes not. It depended. It could depend on whom they were going to meet. Sometimes she wore sheer finest dinier stockings fastened with a trim suspender belt but today there wasn't even that, her pretty legs were bare.
George Minley was interested in buying this place, to convert into flats, but only if the price was right of course. He stepped out onto the neglected lawn to view the front of the house. He frowned.
'What d'you think Susan, eh?'
Susan demurely answered that it needed painting at least. Mr Minley moved closer, put his hand on the rear of her skirt. On Susan's shapely bottom in fact.
'Yes. Paint and all the rest. No knickers my dear? Or anything else?'
'No Mr Minley.'
'Good. Excellent. Do you think he'll like you, this chap? Think you're a pretty, sexy thing?'
'I don't know.' Susan's voice was nervous.
George Minley fondled the unfettered cheeks of her bottom. 'Oh I'm sure he will. If he likes pretty girls and all men do, don't they? Unbutton the skirt. All the buttons. And then... just let it slide open. So he can see just what a pretty girl you are.'
Mr Congrave arrived a few minutes later, his Sierra pulling to a skidding stop beside Mr Minley's Rover. He was a few minutes late but that of course had allowed Susan to unbutton her skirt as instructed. She observed him with somewhat anxious eyes as he hurried across to them. He looked younger than Mr Minley and was wearing a suit whereas Mr Minley had on an anorac and slacks, the more casual attire of a man not desperate to do business no doubt. Mr Congrave looked ordinary, not a villain or anything, but that didn't mean a whole lot. Anyway she didn't know what Mr Minley had in mind, he hadn't said and she certainly wasn't going to ask. But no underwear and now having to unbutton all the buttons of her skirt, right up to her waist, well....
Ronald Congrave was apologising to Mr Minley for his late arrival. He had been unfortunately held up at his office. His eyes, though, were certainly taking in Susan as well as his prospective purchaser. Taking in this rather stunning young miss with the big brown eyes and soft full mouth and the slim but shapely form in this most attractive outfit. The top which was tight enough to clearly show the jutting peaks of her boobs. And the skirt, all those buttons. They were... He could see a bit of bare thigh above one pretty knee. And yes... those buttons were all undone. Right up to her waist.
* * *
Inside the empty house, upstairs, on the landing, Mr Minley asked if the water supply was connected, functioning. Mr Congrave replied that it was, speaking in a somewhat distracted manner as if the matter of public utilities was not fully engaging his mind. Perhaps this was not surprising. By this stage, after some ten minutes of preliminary looking over the delapidated house and its neglected grounds, Susan's unbuttoned skirt had revealed a good deal. Everything in fact, at the front at least. Her pussy for instance. The neat brown bush adorning her delightful sexual parts. Susan's delicious cunt in other words. Ronald Congrave had had a quite full view of it on more than one occasion during their tour of inspection. As her pretty skirt as she walked, climbed stairs, etc, simply slid open. So if he did sound distracted this was not entirely remarkable.
'Good,' Mr Minley observed. 'I mean considering the general state of the place you wouldn't take it for granted, would you? We could test it out. The shower. My young Susan here, I'm sure she'd like to test it out. A nice cold shower on a warm day. Most invigorating. Well naturally there'll only be cold, won't there? OK Susan?'
Susan said a panicky, 'no thank you Mr Minley. No really I wouldn't.'
Mr Minley laughed. 'She's joking Mr Congrave. Of course she'd love a shower. If you've no objection that is.'
A breathless 'No. Not at all.' In Ronald Congrave's head was still that vision of this delicious girl's cunt. He was hardly able to believe he had seen it but he knew he had all right, no question. Two full and complete view as well as a number or partial sightings. Susan's skirt was closed again now as she stood demurely still, feet together. But those buttons were all unfastened and as soon as she moved again... And now this other. A shower.
'Lovely,' George Minley said. 'There you go then Susan. Slip your things off. Do it here, Mr Congrave isn't going to mind, he's seen girls before I'm sure.'
There was no point protesting or arguing, Susan knew that. If Mr Minley told her to do something she had to do it. It was just another test of discipline and obedience he would tell her. And if you didn't like the test he would think up another one that you would like even less, either here with this Mr Congrave or when they got back home. So... just do it.
'She doesn't wear any underwear this warm weather,' George Minley offered obligingly. 'As you can see. I believe it's more healthy for a girl to have the freedom of her limbs etcetera.'
Ronald Congrave had been watching with lustful eyes as the pink-faced Susan removed top and skirt. Nothing was hidden now of course as she was left in only the white high-heels. George Minley took the two items of clothing from her to make sure the view was unimpeded. She turned, juicy bottom jiggling, to make a dash for the bathroom...
Mr Minley stopped her. 'Just a mo. Don't rush. Let our friend Mr Congrave here have a look at you first. See what a lovely girl you are. Come on, stand up straight, hands at your sides. No, better, put them on your head, that'll stick those pretty tits out. That's it.' Scarlet-cheeked Susan was doing it. Because she had no choice. 'There, isn't that nice Mr Congrave? Isn't she really lovely? Those boobs and of course that pretty puss. Turn round now dear, let him see that saucy bum.'
* * *
On the landing again. She had had her shower. Had stood under the jet of cold water which felt like a shower of icicles drubbing against her bare flesh. Mr Minley and Mr Congrave had been in the bathroom with her and had kept her under the icy jet until she thought she was going to die. Then Mr Minley had rubbed her dry with a towel. After that she had been left alone with Mr Congrave while Mr Minley went out to his car. Mr Congrave hadn't done anything, except look at her with greedy eyes. He had asked if she had a boyfriend. Susan had said a nervous yes. She was warmer now after the rubbing dry with the towel but she could still feel that awful icy water. She still had nothing on of course. Just the towel clutched round her. Then was the sound of Mr Minley's footsteps on the bare boards outside.
He came into the bathroom, a smile on his face. Susan gave a little squeal. In his hand Mr Minley held his tawse. That split-tongued length of stiff leather which Susan had felt across her pretty bottom more than once since she had been with Mr Minley. He had a cane and he had that tawse. It was difficult to decide which was worse, either could be worse in fact. Depending on how Mr Minley felt like using it.
'No! Please...' she breathed.
'I just thought we might give her a little warming up. After her shower. It's the discipline training of course. That's very important when you keep a young girl of this age. If they don't get plenty of discipline there's no knowing where you are. But I'm sure you know that Mr Congrave, I'm sure you know about girls of this age.'
Mr. Congrave said yes he did. Mr Minley was leading them out onto the landing again. There was a wooden splay-backed chair out there and he was placing it up against the bannisters.
'Kneel up on this Susan. Holding onto the back and with your bottom nicely out. Then we'll show Mr Congrave how disciplined you are with the tawse, eh? I'm sure he'll be impressed.'
'No!' she whispered again. Although knowing that protestation was no good whatsoever, not when Mr Minley had decided on something. Especially if that something involved his cane or tawse. 'Please...' But of course Susan had to get up on the chair.
Ronald Congrave was goggle-eyed, scarcely able to believe this. Scarcely able to believe any of it: the unbuttoned skirt sliding apart to display this delicious girl's quim; then in the shower with that icy water blasting down on her squirming, writhing form; and now this. This perhaps most of all was difficult to believe. The pretty miss kneeling on the chair and bent forward, her hands gripping the back. Mr Minley raising the leather tawse. And then zipping it down...
SPLATT!...
'Aaaeeegghhh!...' The girl's urgent cry echoing in the empty house. A bright red imprint appearing, rapidly darkening, to mark where the leather had landed squarely across the meatiest aspects of both cheeks. The shrill cry subsiding into a whimper as George Minley's arm swung back again.
SPLATT!....
Another high-pitched yell announcing electrifying contact of leather and girl's bottom-flesh. Followed by the lower whimpering sound. Then another high urgent cry as George Minley's arm came forward for a third time.
Ronald Congrave watched, rapt, rooted to the spot. Heart thudding. Front of trousers distended, tight-stretched over his swollen member.
* * *
Susan is out in the garden. Mr Minley has suggested that she go out and stretch her legs in the soft sunshine. While the two men discuss business. She strolls on the unkept lawn which is not at all like Mr Minley's lawn, and indeed not at all suitable for high heels.
Susan has her top and skirt on again and the skirt's buttons are now fastened to about halfway down. Mr Minley told her to button it when he said she could get her things on again. Which was after he had finished with the tawse. That bloody tawse! She can still feel it. That hot burning feeling as if she has been made to sit on a red hot stove. Susan's hand goes ruefully behind her. It doesn't hurt now, or hardly. But... what are they saying inside? Mr Minley and Mr Congrave. Mr Congrave who when Mr Minley had finished with the tawse was invited to run his hand over her burning bottom. Mr Congrave's hand sliding over her glowing bare bottom.
'Keep still Susan. Mr Congrave is just checking that I've done a proper job.' Mr Minley's little chuckle. And Mr Congrave's breathless voice as he fondled. 'Yes.. Yes.. You seem...'
What are they saying now? Inside. What deal is being struck? This house that Mr Minley would like to buy even though it is so delapidated, empty for months, maybe years it looks like. Until today when the three of them have been in it. With herself nude in that dreadful shower. And nude on the landing over that chair. But delapidated, going to seed, as it is Mr Minley would clearly like to buy it. At a good price. Yes only at a very good price. A very cheap price in fact. And to get his cheap price... there is herself.
There is pretty Susan. Delectable Susan who doesn't always wear underwear. How does that affect the equation, the sale? If pretty Susan now kicking those pretty high heels in the garden is thrown into the equation? What is the price then? Susan bites her lip. Turning to look round. At any moment they will appear. Smug smiles no doubt on both faces. Mr Minley because he has done a deal, got his very good price. And Mr Congrave because he has got her, Susan. For a course of discipline perhaps. Disciplinary training.
Mr Minley will say, 'Susan dear. We've decided... that you can go with Mr Congrave for a couple of days. It'll be very good for you. A little change...' That is what he will say. Unless of course it is a couple of weeks, or a month even. If Mr Minley has got a very good price.
END
No comments:
Post a Comment