Friday, 15 June 2012

Making It Better

Story from Swish Vol.5 No.3.

Making It Better

A girl with a maid, this might be called. Maids are usually subservient – or try to be. But this one wasn't. She was determined to train Judy to take what she knew she really wanted.

* * *

Caren always used to look at me with a strange smile. I say 'always', but actually she had only been with us for three months. Even so I noticed it. I thought her maid's skirt was outrageous really. I mean, showing the tops of her stockings when she sat down, and the whites of her thighs. He always looked at her when she sat like that.

"Why d'you keep giving me sidelong looks and smiling like that?" I asked her once. She was the only maid we had, and maids were always like friends – living in – everything. When I said that Caren moved past me and closed the kitchen door. I thought that was strange. "You haven't had it yet, have you? I can tell, you know. Besides, I'd hear." I stared at her. I didn't know what she was talking about. I mean really I didn't. I told her so.

She didn't answer me – not directly. "You're old enough. Certainly old enough. I wonder he hasn't put you to it," she said. I got a bit mad with her. "I don't know what the bloody hell you're on about," I told her. "Really, Judy?" she asked and raised her eyebrows. She looks quite lovely actually – always used nice perfumes. A bit expensive for her, I thought then. I was more naive then. "We're on our own for a while – I'll show you," she said, "wait."

Well – it's something to be ordered about by a maid, I can tell you, but curiosity made me wait. Then she came down holding it. That cane. My jaw gaped. "Where.... where did you get THAT?" I blurted. She laughed at me. "Oh, come on, Judy, it's not mine. It was here already. You really haven't had it across that beautiful bottom of yours?"

"No," I said, "don't be stupid, of course I haven't." Then she gave me THAT look. "Maybe it's me who's supposed to start you off," she murmured. I coloured right up to the roots of my hair. "You dare try," I said. It was crazy – a sort of panic seized me, because I somehow knew she wasn't joking. I made to push past her but she seized my hair. Being longer than hers, it's easy to. I squealed, trying to wrench away from her. "You stop it!" I yelped. I was like a kid again instead of twenty-one, but I couldn't get away.

"Oh, so you're going to struggle, are you?" she laughed, "I thought you would. All right – let's have you in the living room." I won't go into it all how she got me – got me undressed right down to my knicks. It was all too unbelievable, and the bitch knew I wouldn't scream blue murder to the neighbours sitting in their garden. The fact that I'd been wearing only a T-shirt and hotpants helped. On the sofa she just smothered me for a long moment and I.... well, I began to weaken. I mean, she had her miniskirt right up and her furred pussy was rubbing against mine through the nylon veils. "That's better," she breathed when my arms went limp, "it's best to have you warmed up before you get into it, Judy. Better than taking you from cold. You've lovely tits, darling – beautiful legs. And your bottom is just a dream. Beside, this is only the beginning of your training." That started me off trying to shake myself out of that ridiculous situation. I'd allowed myself to get into it, after all. I didn't have to put up with it and I told her so when THWA-AAAACK! right across my bared botty came that cane, and did I YELP! "Now STOP it," Caren said severely as if she were talking to a schoolgirl. In fact I think she'd have got a big kick out of it if I had been, or more likely she was pretending that I was and she was the schoolmistress. When you really get into it you have all sorts of fantasies like that.

"WOW-OW!" I squealed and got another. She was standing with one leg up on the seat of the sofa and me bent over her thigh. Well – so O.K. – I admit they weren't hard ones. That cane was too thick for the job. It wasn't meant to be a tamer but to act as a warning. It was never used really the way canes are used in stories. There were a couple of thinner ones upstairs. He kept them in his wardrobe and of course I'd never seen them before, not until she showed them to me first. Anyway, I'm skipping back and forth and I don't mean to. It surprised me how strong Caren was. She dropped the cane that first time and spanked me, you see. I strove to get up, but that wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do with a hand clamped firmly on the back of my neck and my bare tummy tight over her stockinged thigh. She was standing up still, as I've described. It was a good position, she explained afterwards. She could really get it into me.

OH – I didn't know one's bottom could burn so much! "Stop it, stop it, STOP it!" I was howling. There were real tears in my eyes and I was squeezing my bottom cheeks so tight. My bottom was a real ball of fire. As it should be sometimes, Caren said coolly when, after about the twentieth, she let me slip down blubbering on to the floor. Then she came down upon me and drew my knicks right off. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" I went on sobbing as if she were still spanking me. My bottom was an orb of heat-rage on the carpet. She didn't take any notice. Holding my shoulders down, she began to tongue my nipples.

All the funny noises I made when she was holding me! I was struggling, too, but she ignored that, simply brushing my waving arms aside, sidling one stockinged knee right up between my thighs until its roundness was pressed against my pussy where I was all moist. She rubbed her knee there subtly and my bottom bucked all the more.

"Wet – you're wet, aren't you – oooh, nice!" she husked. Her silky thighs rubbed all over my own. Her mouth captured my own. I'd never been kissed by another girl on the mouth and certainly not lying on the floor with my bottom hot and my thighs held open. "Nice – it's nice," she crooned, "aren't you feeling better now?"

"No, I'm not, I'm not," I sobbed all babyishly. The carpet in our living room is thick enough but it still scoured my hot cheeks a bit. I think she knew that and rolled me on to my hip, doing the same herself so that we were locked face to face and tits to tits together, one hand soothing my bottom and the other up under my hair at the back of my neck. Even then I went on blubbering against her moist mouth. That was a lovely feeling, too, she said – and said afterwards again, feeling my half open mouth all quivery. Then of a sudden she began to work me with her finger, first in between the tight cheeks of my bottom and then cupping her hand right under to my pussy.

It was like a thousand sparklers were exploding in my tummy. I yammered and clung to her the way I told myself I never meant to. My legs shot down, straightened, and I kinda hung my head back while her kisses rained over my neck. "There, there – making it better.... making it better," I could hear her saying. I suppose I knew that she meant what was happening to me. It was like fire and ice together – in my bottom and in my pussy. I was coming.

"Come, baby, come," she breathed and rolled me over on my back, opening my legs wider. I drew my knees up, feeling one slender finger urge in between my lovelips while her thumb rotated around my clitty. My mouth and my eyes were open. I could see and yet I couldn't. One orgasm after another rippled through me – my thighs were sleeked with wet. Her tongue was in my mouth. "Lovely, lovely, lovely," she was crooning. I lost count of all the times I came. Then I slumped – my eyes rolled right up into my head, Caren said, and then I was still, cuddled tenderly into her. She cupped my throbbing, pulsing pussy and just held me.

"I knew you'd be good for it," she said afterwards and helped me dress. I felt shy with her – shy and yet not. It was impossible to describe. "If I want to spank you again tonight, will you let me?" she asked. I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know I was going to say anything, and then I heard my voice say, "Yes – if you want to." I felt trembly all for the rest of the day thinking about it, like a dream. I remembered what she'd said about training me, but it was only a word, I told myself. When it got to ten o'clock that night, I made an excuse and went to bed early. I wondered, though, if Caren would be bold enough to slip in. She did, though. She put her finger to her lips and I nodded, like we were conspirators. Then from behind her back as she silently closed the door she produced a thin slender cane.

I was lying on the bed with my nightie on.

"He wanted to cane me tonight – downstairs. I wouldn't let him." I sat up. She could see I didn't believe her. We had to whisper. "He.... he doesn't," I said wonderingly. Caren laughed and stroked my hair, drawing my face impulsively into her shoulder. "When you're not here, he does," she said softly. She could feel and hear my gasp against her neck. "Oh god, he does – he takes my knickers down for it," she said. I guess I knew it was true. I clung to her. "Yes he does, as he will you now. I told him I've spanked you."

"Caren – no!" I threw myself back on the pillow, covering my face, like the world had come to an end, "you didn't!" I couldn't look at her. I had my eyes closed tight. "Yes, Judy," she said, and her voice was suddenly firmer, "it's me who has to put you to your trials first. Roll over now and put your bottom up. It'll only be a light one – a sparkler, as we call it. Just to start you off."

I couldn't believe this! "No!" I squealed. I drew my knees up. My nightie only covered half my thighs. I never wear panties in bed. A sudden sharp slap on my legs made me yelp. Even as I did I tried to muffle the sound, praying it wouldn't be heard above the TV downstairs. "OVER, Judy." Caren said sharply. She took my shoulder and rolled me like a sack of coal so that my shoulder bumped the wall. "It won't make a noise if YOU don't. I'm only going to give you a light sixer, Judy. Now put it up, UP – come on – or there'll be more noise than you know about."

It was blackmail really. I didn't want to, I DIDN'T. I threw my arm back – lying on my tummy as I now was – as Caren flicked the hem of my nightie up over my hips and displayed my bold cheeks. "If you get up...." she gritted warningly, "now, Judy, come on – present it. I have to and so must you now."

"No-woh-woh-woh!" I protested plaintively. I was caught in my own trap of having trusted her, and I knew it. "Oh, you silly – I TOLD you it won't be a hard one, not like I get sometimes," she hissed, "move your knees apart now and steady yourself. Come on!"

It's funny how some words work on you more than others. It was the way that she said, "Come ON!" that did it. I felt like a kid again – at my age! I grabbed the pillow under me, cuddling it like it was my old Teddy. SWEEEE-ISSSSH! "Ynnnnnnng!" I squealed. It was like a streak of lightning coursing across my bared cheeks, biting, snarling into me. Or at least I dramatised it so. My 'first course' as it was afterwards called really was a light one. I've given Caren worse since myself. Even so the breath hissed and sizzled out between my teeth as then I took the next. It was lower – not right across the centre of my halfmoons, but lower and under.

'NOH-OOOH!" I gritted, just knowing I mustn't let the sound reach through the door and downstairs, so I had to swallow in the sound just as I had to draw in the stinging bite of it into my raised bottom. "YES, Judy!" I heard Caren say triumphantly. It WAS a triumph, she told me afterwards, giving me the cane that first time. Before I could recover I took the third, and it seemed so much more of a sizzler that I bit right into my soft pillow and dipped my back in reflex until I made a perfect S-shape, she said – an ardent, offering.

Ardent and offering – yes, those were the words she used to me when she'd finished with me. I was twisting the lower half of my body about like a landed fish while she held me under my armpits making me take the sensuousness of her kisses and the long darting of her tongue into my mouth. "It's all right – it's all right," she kept saying, and I half settled down actually sooner than I thought I would, my face as blurred with heat as my bottom was. Somehow as I finally and tentatively sank down on my back – jerking my botty impetuously as it touched the sheet – she made me give her my tongue in return.

"Judy, you're lovely," she breathed. She got up, slipped her skirt and top off, and I saw that she was wearing her nylons only beneath. She didn't have to tell me she'd left her panties down in the living room – I just knew. "Judy, I want you now," she said simply. "My b...b...bottom stings," I sobbed babyishly. "I know, I know – make it better?" she whispered, "with me, darling, it'll only be my tongue, I'm afraid."

I didn't take in the import of her words then. I didn't have time to. Kneeling down by my bed, she raised one of my legs, pushed my knee back almost into my tummy and glued her mouth to my quim. Then her long pointed tongue darted in and swirled and I croaked "AAAAAAH!" and grappled with my fingers at the rucked sheet. "Oh, Judy, you're salty and wet and lovely, you bitch," I heard her croak, then the sweet firmness of her lips into my mushiness really began to work. Her fingers explored my bottom beneath. I gurgled, choked, cried out softly. I was spilling already – my love juices spurting, caught between the fire and the thrilling-spilling of it. On and on she went until I'd come four or five times. Then she did what I least expected and so was totally unprepared for. Leaving me gasping, as it were, she was up in a flash and I was rolled over on my tummy again.

I knew then. "NO!" I yelled, "NO! Caren, DON'T!" Oh god, my voice must have carried. I'd forgotten. I couldn't have controlled that cry anyway. SWEEE-ISSSSH! CRA-AAAAACK! "YEEE-AAAARGH!" Oh... those were biters... biters.... deep into my hot sphere. I beat the pillow, then clenched it, twisting it in my clawing hands. Another came. A hot searing stroke. Another – another. I blubbered, howled and cried all at the same time, twisting my hips madly to try and avoid that hateful cane which seemed to curve right around my orb as it descended.

Then, as quickly as it had started again, she stopped and leapt upon me, straddling me, her moist cleft rubbing upon my seared halfmoons. "There!" she said triumphantly, "there! That's helped to put you through the mill. Lie still – STILL!"

"I c..c...can't!" I sobbed. In bucking about I all but threw her off, but her legs were well stretched and she kept steady somehow, easing the oiled lips of her quim all around my throbbing bottom until somehow I knew – just knew – she was coming, too. "HOOOOOO!" I could hear her choking softly. I felt her stickiness, felt her go limp. Then she sank down upon me, holding me totally prisoner with her tits globing into my shoulders and both of us making coarse, breath-rushing noises.

"I h...h...hate you, I HATE you," I blubbered when at last she rolled off me, almost falling to the floor as she did, but clutching me into her. "No – no, you don't, Judy," she said firmly. Smeared with tears, my cheeks were sticky against her own hot ones. "You were just ready for that – I knew you were," she said quietly. "I w...w...wasn't," I choked. Her hair stroked my hair, drawing it back from my moist forehead. "Yes, you were," she said with total conviction, "and you half know it already. They're the hardest you'll get, you know. It never gets any worse than that. Nothing is going to work unless we're truthful with one another now."

"I... I don't know what you mean," I mumbled, still screwing up my eyes against the endless tongues of fire in my bottom. Still she cuddled my head and shoulders into her. "Yes, you do, Judy – it brings you on. I knew it would. Hating it and loving it – equally maybe to start with – is part of it. Isn't that right?" I nodded blindly. It was true. She'd sort of made me take it, but hadn't really. I mean, god, I'm old enough. I could have stopped her – I could have stopped her that afternoon. I hadn't. I'd just let myself go, despite all my talk about struggling.

Caren went on murmuring and whispering to me, sometimes making me gasp, sometimes drawing a half-reluctant giggle from me. Sometimes, I told myself, I didn't even realise what she was saying. "I will be both tender and stern when I cane you, Judy. So will he," she said. I made to sit up at that, but her hands held me down. "NO!" I jerked. I meant it. She laid me flat on my back and held me. "You don't want him to make you better afterwards – is that it?" she asked. "Don't be... don't be... don't be s...s...silly," I stammered. The biting and stinging had eased away now. My bottom felt hot, heavy – sort of luxurious.

"It's going to happen, Judy," she said. "You.... you stop it!" I choked. My eyes were as wild as my mouth was loose, she told me long afterwards. Quite daintily she bent, picked up her shirt and top. She was going to walk out of the bedroom just as she was, I could see that. "Not if I let you watch him cane ME?" she asked and was gone, swaying her jiggling bottom cheeks. I loved her. I wanted to call after her.

* * *

The next day it was all quiet, like it hadn't happened. Then about five o'clock (I wasn't in a job at that time), Caren suddenly said to me, "I get randy for a caning sometimes. Not a hard one – like the one I gave you. He puts me over the arm of the sofa, you know. I have to keep my legs straight. He peels my panties down..."

"No!" I shouted, "I don't want to hear!" I rushed out of the room and slammed my door upstairs. It wasn't true. I didn't want to know about it. Was it true? I hated myself for getting up and going back down again. I couldn't help myself. "Caren, please – is it true?" I asked. "Oh, you ARE a baby – of course it's true," she laughed and cuddled me. "He wants to cane your bottom, you know. Won't you let him?" "NO!" I blurted. Caren stepped away from me. Her eyes were harder than I wanted them to be.

"You stop this, Judy," she said, "you're not going back on it."

"I won't," I said. My lips trembled, my legs trembled. Caren shrugged. "O.K." she said bleakly, "then I won't spank you or cane you again – not ever. I won't ever kiss you or caress you or be able to make you feel better afterwards. Sorry, I can't stop talking now, I have work to do," she added in a cold, distant voice. She moved away. I went after her, feeling as if my feet were taking me rather than that I was directing them. "C...C...Caren..." I said. She turned and looked straight at me. "Well?" she asked. I lost my nerve. "N...n...nothing," I said. Suddenly she stepped towards me and lifted my chin. "After dinner tonight," she said. I made to say "No!" but no sound came. It was like I couldn't move. Then I turned and ran upstairs into the bathroom and turned on the taps, ripping my skirt and knickers off and fancying I could hear her laughing softly downstairs.

I don't think I could see properly or hear properly or anything at dinner. At least, that's how it felt. Caren kept hovering over me. When the wine was finished she poured liqueurs, moving quietly and efficiently. "I'll bring the coffee in," she said after that – saying it in a sort of possessive way. The TV was on in the living room. It was all a coloured blur to my eyes. When I was drinking the coffee my cup was chattering all the time against the saucer.

Moving back and forth as she always did, Caren was so cool that I began to relax. I even kidded myself I was watching 'Dynasty' on the TV. I could hear her washing up. It seemed all right. He hadn't said a word. I'd actually almost really relaxed when I heard the door of the living room open and close and Caren was standing there. She had the cane in her hand. It would have been easy to hide. I realised that then. I was stricken. My hand went to my mouth the way you never think it will in real life.

"Come on," she said very, very quietly and walked over to me like a panther. "Caren, no!" I said. It came out like a squeak. I mean in FRONT of him! Then she laughed and said to him, "You see – she didn't believe me." I suppose even then – even then – I believed it was a joke. I wanted to jump up. I couldn't. My legs were jelly. She moved forward more and stood over me. "Darling, get up – please," she murmured. I knew it was true then. I saw him get up and take his tie off.

"No," I said, "oh no! No, Caren – Caren, don't!" – "YES, Judy," Caren said. Her eyes weren't bleak – they were kind – almost laughing. Then it was him – coming over. They pulled me up between them. I could feel myself flopping, crying, twisting, pulling. "Judy, don't cry – it won't be hard, I promise you it won't be hard," Caren was saying. I screamed, and my skirt was up. They were so bloody efficient between them – making me ready for it. He was... he was.... he was t...taking my knickers down! I kicked, I cried more. Over the arm of the sofa where they put me, Caren sat and held my shoulders.

"No-woh-woh-woh!" was all I could hear myself sobbing. My bottom was naked, my skirt right up. She had to hold me tighter then, pressing my face down into the cushions. "It's all right, it's all right," she kept saying, "Judy, you want it." – " YA-AH-AAAAAH!" came my screech then. He'd stepped back and sort of nipped me with it, just gently at first. "You... you... you cah-ah-an't!" I screamed and then SWEEE-ISSSSH! WHOOOOO! Caren was laughing, laughing! "Judy, wriggle it – come on!" she was saying. SWEEEE-ISSSSSH! "NO-OW!" came my shrieks, on and on and on. It bit me, bit me, bit me, stung me. I writhed and wriggled, held by her. My stockinged legs twisted this way and that. I didn't care any longer what he could see.

Oh god, it was an eternity – yet it was only eight, Caren told me afterwards. When they let me up I was like a rag doll, squeezing my blasted cheeks, tears rolling down my cheeks, flopping down on the sofa, on my hip, on my tummy – every which way. Caren was on her knees by the side of me, an arm around my shoulders, murmuring, comforting, whispering, like she'd done the night before in my room. She began to finger me. Down there. In front of him! I tried to stop her. "No, no," I sobbed. I was trying to push her hand away. I rolled over on my tummy again, hiding my hot face in a cushion. She laughed and gave me a little smack, wouldn't let me pull my skirt down.

"OH-WOH-WOH!" I kept sobbing. "She's ready for it," I heard her say softly, "I know she is. Go on." Then came my final cry – my long piercing one, my hips lifted, and the big swollen plum of his prick oozing up under me, into me, parting the lips, sinking up until my squirming bottom was rammed into his belly.

"Just hold her like that," Caren said. The words came like a quiet command. She had got up. Even through my choking, disbelieving moans I somehow knew she was stripping off. The bitch. Another few throbs of his big cock in me and she knew I was going to want it – 'making it better'...

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