Extract from Petting Girls

The first part of the auction was over, but there was still no sign of Sophie. I peeped into the changing area as Morris announced the second phase, but she wasn’t there, and I was left with no option but to climb up onto the stage without her. Annabelle was clearly going to be busy cock sucking for quite a while, and Melody and Harmony were off for the evening. I’d left Kay were we’d been sitting, making it very plain she wasn’t available, and for a moment I was the only woman on the stage.

I was extremely glad when Patty climbed up, then Miss Barbara from the puppy show. Jean de Vrain moved her chair a little closer to the centre and there were four of us, all dominant, but with the proportion of submissive men in the audience that was no bad thing. I could cope with whipping a few, for all that it did nothing for me personally, and was wondering how to get the most for the fighting fund as Morris once more began to speak.
‘Our first candidate then, Miss Patricia Whitworth, for whose services I will accept no bids beneath one hundred pounds. Anyone wishing to dominate her had better have five hundred in his pocket.’

It was nice to discover she switched, but I was more than a little surprised at the offer, especially in front of her own grandmother. It was a lot of money to ask though, and all that came up from the audience were bids to be punished by her, mostly from men wanting to be her puppy-boy. She got two hundred and seventy-five, from a young man with a face so submissive he looked scared, yet he still had the nerve to be ask her to make him eat dog food in front of thousands of people.

As she took him away on a lead I was wondering where Bitch was, as we badly needed a submissive woman to make up our numbers. Miss Barbara had stepped forward, and she looked a good deal more comfortable as a straightforward domina than she had as a puppy mistress. Morris had already made it plain that we had the right to refuse bids we weren’t comfortable with, and she turned two down, a guy offering a hundred and fifty for her to pee on him in the centre of the floor space and some complete maniac who wanted to be taken down to the marshes and buried alive with just a straw to breath through. She accepted two hundred to drip hot wax on a man, which she did in front of everyone, first his chest, then his back and buttocks, lastly his cock and balls, which left him with a straining erection and an expression of raw agony on his face. Even I’d have taken pity on him by finishing him off by hand, but she left him to hobble away, clutching at his wax coated genitals, presumably to masturbate in a corner. Morris stood forward once more.

‘A hot one there, boys and girls, but now for a rare treat indeed, in fact, a unique treat, an opportunity for a good old fashioned spanking from perhaps the country’s senior domina, Mrs Jean de Vrain!’

Jean stood up. Her dress and hair made her look desperately out of place in the club, as if Mary Whitehouse had wandered into a strip joint, but she did look stern. Although the audience were supposed to be able to ask for what they liked, plenty were keen, and not just the men. One woman in an immaculate and plainly expensive rubber cat suit bid two hundred, and Jean had accepted it with a gesture before Morris could see if the bidding was going to go higher. The money was for her fund, and he didn’t make an issue of it, especially, I suspected, because just like me he wanted to see the woman spanked.

It was beautifully done, and my admiration for her increased as she stepped down from the stage and across the floor in a firm, no nonsense manner. The woman was taken by the wrist the moment she’d climbed over the ropes, and led to where the chair still stood at the centre of the cleared area. Everyone had gone quiet, watching. There was a glorious look of disapproval on Jean’s face as she took in the woman’s perfect make-up, skin-tight cat suit and six inch heels. When Jeans spoke her voice was icy with disdain.

‘What is your name, girl?’

‘Honey.’

‘Your proper name, and you will address me as Mrs de Vrain, as you are about to be put across my knee.’

The girl gave a single, frightened nod.

‘Laura… Mrs de Vrain.’

‘That’s better. You are a slut, Laura. Now let’s have you out of this silly costume.’

Laura clearly hadn’t expected to be bared, and gave a little gasp as Jean’s fingers found the zip of her cat suit. Not that she tried to stop it, merely closing her eyes at is was drawn down, all the way to her fanny, revealing the sweat slick, powder smeared skin beneath. She was stripped, completely nude, and I could only watch in delight and fascination as it was done, the arms of her cat suit peeled off, her shoes kicked aside on instruction, the legs eased free, to leave the beautiful garment a tangled mess of sweaty, powder stained rubber on the floor. Laura’s skin was no better, and the stripping had reduced her from a poised beauty to a bedraggled ragamuffin in a few minutes. She was still cute, her high breasts and little rounded bum both delightful, and I was feeling both aroused and envious as Jean sat down on the chair.

‘Over you go, my girl.’

I could see Laura shaking, but still there was no resistance, nor hesitation. She obviously needed it badly, but she had never expected to take it in the nude, and kept her legs firmly together as she draped herself across Jean’s legs. I could have told her it was hopeless, but her embarrassment was turning me on even more than seeing her naked. She had another shock coming too. Jean had brought her handbag with her, and it was on the ground by her chair. Holding Laura carefully in place, she reached down into it and drew out a hairbrush, small, but quite clearly a serviceable spanking implement.

Laura didn’t even realise, or perhaps she was expecting to be stroked and teased before the spanking began, or at least warmed a little. Jean evidently didn’t believe in frills. An old fashioned spanking was what she had offered, and it was what Laura got, the hairbrush applied hard to her pretty little bum cheeks from the start. She was squealing immediately, and within three smacks her legs had started to kick, just below the knees, but truly frantic. Her bum was bouncing well, hinting at the dark opening between her cheeks with every smack, a delightful sight.

A moment later and Laura had lost control complete. Her thighs came wide, kicked open in her pain to spread out the sweetest little fanny, shaved bare and absolutely soaking between her lips. She began to buck and her bumhole was showing too, a tiny pink star that opened and closed as her bottom squirmed to Jean’s smacks. I was wishing I could see Laura’s face too, but Jean’s was a picture, cool and composed, utterly matter-of-fact as she punished the writhing, naked girl across her lap.

t only stopped when Laura fell off Jean’s lap, to sit down hard on her smacked bum. She’d shown it all, her pert breasts, every tiny detail of her shaved fanny and her bumhole, all modesty stripped away, and not just physical, but mental. The instant she’d recovered herself she was at Jean’s feet, cuddling onto her, smacked bottom stuck out behind, no longer caring who saw, but only for comfort from the woman who’d spanked her. I was wishing I’d done it myself, badly, and I could have been the one to stroke her hair and back as she clung trembling to me, her head buried between my breasts, her naked body mine to do with as I pleased.

I would have done it too, probably had her lick me, maybe even with everybody watching, but not Jean. She simply spent a few moments providing the comfort Laura so obviously needed, and then gently disengaged herself, to stand up and acknowledge the applause of the audience with a slight inclination of her head. Laura hastily gathered up her things and scampered away, her little red bum bouncing behind her, and Jean was left on her own.
She was genuine, that much was clear, and more than just an old fashioned disciplinarian. Spanking a girl is one thing, but to comfort her afterwards is quite another. I could just imagine Laura’s feelings, all too easily in fact, and the episode left me feeling more muddled than ever, and more strongly aroused. I wanted Kay, and it was only with great effort that I held back from dragging her out onto the floor, stripping her naked and giving her just the same treatment.

What I didn’t want was to have to dominate some man, but unless I was very lucky it was what I would get. Morris had already begun to talk, and it was impossible not to feel proud at being called up last, even after Jean. I stepped forward, planting my feet a little apart at the centre of the stage and folding my hands across my chest. I was hot, drunk and highly aroused, but I did my best to seem cool and dominant as my announcement was made.
‘…Miss Amber Oakley, available to answer you darkest fantasies! Put your hands deep in your wallets now!’

There were plenty of bids, including from Patty, who still had her puppy-boy on a lead. Unfortunately she’d been trumped immediately and I didn’t get a chance to accept, leaving only men in the bidding and me seething with frustration. Most of them just wanted to be dominated in one way or another, so I could hardly turn them down in favour of Patty, and I hadn’t caught what she’d wanted above the chorus of offers. The bids reached three hundred and seventy-five, with a rather nondescript man in PVC shorts and a collar wanting to be put across my knee, when the crowds parted to the bulk of Mr Protheroe.

I’d forgotten all about him, and he wasn’t going to be bidding for me to deal with him, just the opposite. My whole body seemed to go cold as he spoke.

‘I’ll put a bid in Morris. Four hundred pounds to spank her, OTK, on the bare.’

return to Petting Girls details