Damsels in Distress (25 page)

Mr Porrit has a dog collar attached to a leash in his hand, and crouches down to buckle it around Cherry’s throat.

‘All right, girl, withdraw from her now,’ he orders, and squeezes his hands between them to prise them apart. Bunty whimpers dreamily as the large, slippery dildo is withdrawn.

The buckles of the straps are soon undone and the harness falls away. The piggy tail is pulled out with a little ‘plop’ and the snout is taken off.

‘Now, sweetheart,’ Mr Porrit says, firmly but kindly, ‘let’s get you showered and fed. Come on.’

The glow is still suffusing her, but there is a little quiver in her belly when he picks up the paddle. Cherry still does not know why she needs to be trained in all this nonsense, but in the end it does not really matter.

What is important is that when Mr Porrit has a paddle in his hand and her bottom is so sore it feels like one big pulsing mess, there is simply no way she dares to disobey.

‘Please, Melody,’ Toby said with a note of desperation in his voice, ‘come over to my hall tonight. Gary is going out, so we’ll have the place to ourselves.’

Melody sighed. The truth was that her whole body ached with desire. Toby might be desperate for her but she was just as horny for him. He was a beautiful boy, she thought longingly, with that shock of corn-gold curls. She knew she was lucky to have him after her; Toby Mason was the dream date of lots of other college girls. Some of them were in the library at that moment, darting jealous glances towards her.

‘I can’t, I’m sorry, Toby.’

A look of pain passed across his almost pretty face. ‘But why not?’

‘It’s Alice,’ Melody confided frustratedly. ‘She does not like me to be out after seven o’clock.’

Toby shook his head with disbelief. ‘I just don’t get this thing. I mean, she’s not your mother. But even if she was, come on, seven o’clock? That’s insane.’

She is insane, Melody thought. At least she sometimes wondered. ‘No,’ she said, ‘she’s worse than my mother ever was, and she was pretty strict. The trouble with Alice is—’

‘The trouble with Alice is that she’s a sociopath.’

‘I’m sorry, Toby, but I stay there rent free and if she throws me out its back to Boresville.’ The prospect made her shudder, and then suddenly she had an idea.

‘Look, Toby, I can’t come round later, but…’ she blushed at the idea of what she was about to suggest, ‘but I do really like you, and I would like to… so couldn’t we find somewhere quiet around here?’

Melody drifted back through Regent’s Park to the plush Prince Albert Road apartment in a sort of dream. It had been every bit as good as she’d imagined. Better even. The stockings had delighted Toby, an Alice rule that embarrassed Melody. But after experiencing his reaction, being banned from wearing tights did not seem such a terrible thing.

And stockings were by no means Alice’s only dress rule. Melody had to wear skirts that reached below her knee and chunky shapeless tops. It was a wonder that Toby fancied her at all in her frumpy librarian’s get up. The good thing, though, was how delighted he’d been by her figure.

‘Wow!’ he had said as he fondled her full breasts. ‘Why have you been hiding yourself under these shapeless things? With a body like yours it should be a crime!’

He had even liked the old-fashioned underwear Alice made her wear, saying the girdle was like something from a kinky magazine.

So maybe there were compensations for Alice’s tyranny, she thought, remembering his expression as he climaxed, and remembering her own delicious orgasm.

Alice was waiting in the lounge of her luxurious flat. Seated on the white leather sofa, she put down the paper she’d been reading and regarded Melody for a moment. Then she removed the horn-rimmed reading glasses that made her face look even more severe than usual.

Strikingly beautiful, Alice Macintyre wore her lustrous black hair to her shoulders. She always wore plenty of crimson lipstick that matched her long fingernails, and she had a beautiful, hourglass figure. Though she made Melody hide her curvaceous body in shapeless things, Alice always displayed her own charms in a way that was unusual to the point of bizarre.

Today she wore an outfit so customary it was almost her uniform. There was the red-based tartan pleated skirt, which as usual did not quite manage to cover her black stocking tops. Her seamed stockings smoothly encased shapely legs, with well-developed calf muscles and toned thighs. Above the skirt she wore a black polo-necked sweater, so tight it zipped up the back. This was usually one of Melody’s duties, and she never performed it without wondering why Alice’s always immaculate and alluring appearance did not cause more car crashes in the street, for the combination of Alice’s magnificent bust and trim waist produced an image nothing short of breathtaking. As always Melody had to struggle not to stare at her older cousin, and stood a little uncertainly by the door.

‘My feet are tired,’ Alice said in a bored tone. ‘Give them a massage, there’s a pet. It’s those shoes.’

Then why wear, Melody thought mutinously, six-inch heels? But as she put down her college books and hurried over to the couch she felt a surge of relief. She had got in by seven, but you never knew with Alice, and Melody felt guilty about what she and Toby had got up to in the storeroom.

She knelt on the cream carpet and took Alice’s nylon-sheathed foot and began massaging it gently. As always she felt oddly humiliated by this duty, and Alice regarded her imperiously as she knelt at her feet, like a servant. There was another reason that Melody felt uncomfortable, however, for glancing up she was confronted with a vision of black stockings, pale thigh flesh and a V of white cotton knickers tight between them. As usual this confused her and made a blush rise to her cheeks, so quickly she dropped her gaze to Alice’s shapely foot, with crimson toenails just visible through the double thickness of sheer nylon that formed the stocking’s fully fashioned toe.

‘You look flushed,’ Alice mused. ‘Have you been running?’

‘No, Alice.’ Alice did not like Melody running. She said it was unladylike.

‘So what have you been doing?’

Melody could feel Alice’s eyes on her. She swallowed hard and felt herself blush. ‘I was working in the library. I told you.’

‘Ah yes,’ there was something in Alice’s manner that unsettled Melody, ‘you told me. You were in the library, working. All afternoon, was that?’

Melody tensed. What was this about? What did her cousin know? ‘Yes, Alice,’ she said quietly.

‘Oh dear, I thought we had discussed your lying, Melody. Now, where were you really? Wait, I want you to think before you answer. I shall get the truth out of you eventually, you know that, don’t you?’

Melody felt her shoulders slump. It was true. Sometimes she thought Alice had supernatural powers.

‘I – I was with Toby,’ she confessed, letting her hands drop to the floor.

Alice used a stockinged toe to lift Melody’s chin, forcing her to look into sea-green eyes that seemed to contain a whole ocean of authority. Above them a neatly shaped black eyebrow arched inquisitorially. ‘And did you
fuck
him?’ The voice was melodic, and the use of such a word added an unfathomable edge to the enigmatic beauty.

The kneeling girl blushed furiously, and felt tears ready to fall. ‘Yes,’ she said at last, transfixed by her cousin’s amused gaze.

‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, Aunt Alice.’

Alice was not her aunt, not even a first cousin actually, but she had started to insist on this bit of nonsense lately, and Melody did not feel in a position to resist.

‘I am deeply disappointed in you, young lady. Fucking when you should be working. Lying to your Aunt Alice. What am I going to do with you? Well, I expect you know. What
am
I going to do with you?’

‘You… you are going to spank me, Aunt Alice.’

‘That’s right, I am. But this is too serious for a simple spanking. I am going to spank you now, but later I am going to stripe that delicious bottom for you with the cane.’

‘Please, Alice, you can’t… I mean, this isn’t fair. I’m not a little girl!’

‘Well, you certainly don’t look like one, that much is certain.’ Alice regarded her with an amused sparkle in her eyes.

That much
was
certain. Alice had made her shower and wash and dry her blonde hair, during which Melody worried about the impending caning. She found the things Alice had set out on the bed for her to wear; white shoes with impossible six-inch heels, white lace-topped stockings, a lacy white bra and panties, and a white lace and satin suspender belt.

Melody’s bedroom was ringed with tall mirrors, so she could hardly help but see herself as she dressed. Then she sat at the dressing table and brushed her pale gold hair. The girl gazing back at her from the mirror was pretty, with wide, innocent blue eyes. If anything she looked younger than her eighteen years, and appeared to be about to cry.

‘When you are quite ready,’ Alice had opened the door without knocking, as usual, ‘come to me in the exercise room.’

A few moments later found Melody outside the door of the room where Alice kept her various exercise machines. She took a deep breath and knocked tentatively.

‘Enter!’ Alice called, and Melody pushed the door open and went in.

Like most rooms in the flat it was brightly lit, with the outside wall made entirely of glass. This huge picture window looked out over the zoo and Regent’s Park; the flat being just above the level of the tallest trees.

There was a treadmill, a cycling and a rowing machine, and a comprehensive set of free weights, all of which were over by a wall. The room had fiercely bright strip lighting and a sprung wooden floor. In the middle was something Melody had not seen before; a small but sturdy looking vaulting horse.

‘It was a bit expensive,’ Alice said, fondly slapping the fawn suede pommel. ‘But what the hell, I thought, Melody is worth it. And the way you’re going, young missy, this little horsy will be getting a lot of riding!’

She stalked over to the wall, steeple heels click-clacking on the wooden floor. There was something else new in the room, Melody realised with a shock, as she followed Alice’s progress. Fixed to the wall there was now a sort of rack, and arranged on it horizontally were half a dozen cruel looking canes.

Alice perused them. ‘Which one do you think will hurt most, Melody?’ she casually asked over her shoulder.

Melody looked from the horse to the canes, understanding dawning.

‘Melody, I asked you a question!’

‘I, um, I don’t know, Alice. I mean, Aunt Alice.’

‘Actually,’ Alice picked a yellow cane of about four feet in length and swished it through the air experimentally, ‘I’m getting a little tired of your forgetfulness. From now on, let’s say I will give you one stroke every time you forget to address me correctly.’

Melody clenched her fists. It was just too much, she thought, anger fighting apprehension. Why should she put up with all this nonsense? She would revolt, she would defy Alice, she would just take her chances—

‘Over to the horse then, sweetheart,’ Alice ordered, and Melody, her newfound resolve and rebelliousness evaporating instantly, teetered on her unaccustomed heels to the waiting apparatus.

‘Now, I want you to bend over it,’ Alice continued. ‘That’s it, but feet further back and apart, please.’ The cane tip tapped Melody’s ankles until she had placed her feet to Alice’s satisfaction, a couple of feet or so behind the horse and the same distance apart. ‘Now, I want you to keep those lovely legs absolutely straight. If you kick back whilst I’m caning you will have to take the whole dozen over again.’

A dozen? Melody stifled a despairing sob.

‘Now reach right over and hold the legs. Stretch now, you can reach lower. I want your hair to brush the floor, that’s it, good girl.’

Melody could see little, but she heard the clacking of Alice’s stilettos as the dark-haired woman stalked around the horse.

‘Oh Melody, you should see yourself,’ the woman said quietly, as though actually in awe of the vision of beautiful nubile girl bent and tensed over the wooden apparatus. ‘You’re an absolute vision of loveliness…’

Melody felt thumbs inserted in the waistband of her panties, and gasped futilely as they were pulled down to her stocking tops, where they stretched across the span of her parted legs.

‘Down they come, sweetheart,’ Alice purred. ‘Oh, what a lovely botty you do have! I can never quite get over it.’

‘Please, Alice, I don’t—’

‘
Aunt
Alice, Melody. That’s another stroke added to your total.’ There was a menacing swishing sound as the cane sliced down through the air. ‘Now, I require you to count each stroke and thank me for it. For example…’ There was a horrid whistling sound and the cane cracked across Melody’s bottom. ‘You will say, “one, thank you, Aunt Alice”, if that had been a proper stroke rather than a little demonstration. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Ali… I mean, Aunt Alice,’ Melody mumbled miserably, wondering what the real thing would be like if that was a little demonstration.

She did not have long to wait for the answer.

There were a few heel clacks as Alice stepped back and then moved forward, there was an evil whistling sound and then a meaty
thwuck
! Melody yelped like a scalded kitten, feeling as though someone had run a blowtorch horizontally across her bum.