American Blue (6 page)

‘I know, she told me. She seems to think they’ll beat you easily.’

‘Like hell they will!’ he said with a laugh. ‘Their coach is Morris’s old friend Buttman Bailey, who was doing porno when you were in diapers—’

‘A couple of months ago, wasn’t it, Penny?’ Jemima put in.

‘Very funny,’ I told her, ‘but I’ve heard it before.’

‘Buttman trains ’em hard,’ Hudson went on. ‘Practises every morning, and any girl who don’t get fifty per cent in the basket, why, she gets her ass smacked and a clip goes up on their website for the world to see. That’s why they’re the best known team, and the most popular, but that don’t make ’em the best. Their colours are blue and white, from the Brooklyn flag, and they play in halter tops with cut-outs for their titties and the sweetest little skirts, no panties.’

He finished with a low whistle of appreciation, clearly still able to appreciate the thought of a girl in a short skirt and no knickers despite years of debauchery. I knew Melody was playing, but wondered if she knew exactly what she was letting herself in for, especially having a bare bottom spanking put up on the net if she didn’t come up to scratch in training.

‘That’s one semi,’ Hudson went on. ‘The other is the Queens against the Jersey Jezebels, who’ve had it easy so far, but aren’t a bad team. They came up through the playoffs, beating …’

He continued, reciting game statistics with the same enthusiasm he showed for kinky games, or possibly
more
. I switched off, staring out of the window at the passing buildings and wondering how to save Jemima from the consequences of her own folly. She was more determined than ever, with none of the misgivings I’d hoped for, and I’d already abandoned the idea of stopping her playing basketball. The videos were another matter, because there had to be at least a chance of getting her bottom smacked purple over the next few days.

I’d expected to cross the Brooklyn Bridge, and was disappointed when we descended into a tunnel in order to get under the river, but on the far side we were at last into what I thought of as New York, towering skyscrapers in the styles of every decade for the best part of a hundred years. As we turned a corner the Empire State Building itself towered above us.

Jemima was staring open-mouthed out of the window, but Hudson took no notice whatsoever, any more than I would have done passing Buckingham Palace. He’d been explaining tactics, and using so much jargon it was completely lost on me and very possibly on Jemima too, but then he switched to a topic that got my full attention.

‘… always recruitment problems,’ he was saying, ‘what with girls getting flaky on me or suddenly deciding they want to get paid. We’re fine and dandy right now, but it always pays to keep a few in reserve. I can count on you, can’t I, Penny, if it comes down to the wire?’

‘Me?’ I asked in shock.

‘Sure, why not?’

‘I … I’m five foot two for a start. Aren’t basketball players meant to be tall? Sport’s not really my thing, either, and never was. I used to get out of it any way I could at school, and I’ve never played basketball in my life. I’d just make a fool of myself! Besides, don’t you want younger women?’

‘You’re younger than Melody, and you’re in great shape.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Sure you are, don’t put yourself down. We’ve got a while to train anyhow, so at least say you’ll be in the reserve?’

‘How many girls are there?’

‘Eight, if I can include you.’

‘And how many in a team?’

‘You must know that!’ Jemima cut in. ‘Five, of course. She’s no good, Hudson …’

‘OK, I’ll go in the reserves,’ I volunteered, stung by Jemima’s open scorn.

‘Good girl,’ Hudson said. ‘This is my area, Hudson Street, Tribeca. I had to buy here, just for the address.’

We’d turned into a road lined with squat, solid buildings in red brick and grey-brown stone, apparently once warehouses but looking distinctly gentrified, with select shops and up-market cafés punctuating the apartment fronts. Hudson ordered the cab to stop outside a building somewhat more ornate than its neighbours and paid the driver as Jemima and I stood on the pavement gazing around us. There was even a doorman, perhaps ex-army, white-haired and smart in blue and gold livery, who hurried to take our bags.

‘Thank you, Kunstmann,’ Hudson remarked.

Jemima giggled at the man’s name and I found myself blushing, but he took no notice, touching his cap respectfully before he began to gather up our cases. Hudson looked well pleased with himself, smiling broadly as he held the door for us to enter the building, and to my surprise continuing the conversation more or less where he’d left off.

‘You’ll be OK,’ he assured me, ‘and hell, if you can be a piggy-girl you surely don’t mind being on a kinky basketball team?’

‘Oh, it’s not that,’ I assured him even as the blood rushed to my face, ‘but, um …’

I glanced at the doorman, who was standing at the lift with his back to us but could not possibly have failed to hear what Hudson had said. He’d probably never heard of piggy-girls, but I was sure that wouldn’t stop him imagining me on all fours in a mud puddle, stark naked except for my rubber snout and the curly tail bobbing over my bare bottom. Hudson merely laughed.

‘Don’t mind Kunstmann, he’s one of us. Aren’t you Kunstmann?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Kunstmann replied.

‘They can be a bit stuffy around here,’ Hudson explained as the lift doors slid open, ‘so I’ve cut a deal with Kunstmann to let the girls in at the back, not that’s it’s a problem with you two, but with some of them their parents don’t know, that sort of thing, and it pays to be discreet.’

‘I thought you said your girls were from the porn industry?’ I asked.

‘Oh no, that’s just how it started,’ he replied. ‘Nowadays they come in through the website, mainly, girls from rich families who have to keep proper but like a thrill, that’s the kind. It’s why we have masks.’

We’d gone up remarkably fast, and as the lift doors opened once more I was surprised to find myself in a richly carpeted lobby overlooking the roofs of the buildings opposite, with a stretch of water and the Statue of Liberty visible in the distance. There were only two doors leading off the lobby, marked Penthouse One and Two. Hudson crossed to the first and opened the door for Kunstmann, who took our cases in and left with a generous tip in his hand.

‘Great guy, Kunstmann,’ Hudson remarked as he shut the door. ‘As loyal as they come, and of course he
knows
which side his bread’s buttered. The girls take turns to give him blow-jobs.’

The remark was made absolutely casually, and might even have been a joke. There was no suggestion that we had to get involved, and yet for the first time I thought I saw a flicker of distaste cross Jemima’s face. I gave her a sympathetic look, wondering if I might not have found a chink in her armour. Hudson took no notice, but offered to show us around.

His flat was impressively large, taking up half of the top floor, with views across Manhattan and in some directions beyond, although a great many far taller buildings surrounded us, giving the impression that we were still pretty much at street level. He began to point out various landmarks, but Jemima had already had her fill of the New York skyline and quickly interrupted.

‘Can I get into my outfit?’

‘Sure,’ he answered, ‘it’s through here, in the team room.’

He pushed open the door of one of the many rooms we’d not yet been into. It was halfway between a gym and a dressing room, with a polished wood floor, various exercise machines arranged around an open space, a row of lockers and four tables set against a huge mirror. Somebody had evidently been there, because there was a hint of perfume in the air and some of the make-up littered round had obviously been used recently.

‘Here we are,’ Hudson said, opening a locker, ‘made to measure.’

Jemima gave a squeal of delight and reached for the costume. The shorts and bra top were ordinary enough, merely vulgar, but the mask was bizarre, made up like the upper part of a rabbit’s face, with two huge ears sticking up from the top, erect for the first foot or
so
and then flopping forward. Stiff nylon whiskers stuck out on either side of an upturned nose, all yellow, as were the insides of the ears, while the rest of it was baby pink. All that was bad enough, but the blank eye-holes made it look positively sinister.

‘I don’t suppose any of them would fit me?’ I asked, praying the answer would be no.

‘I’ll get one made up,’ Hudson promised. ‘My tailor’s good. Jewish guy, can do anything your imagination can come up with.’

‘No, really, I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.’

‘It’s no trouble, and besides, you’re in the reserves, so you need an outfit.’

I shrugged, telling myself it was no worse than some of the costumes I’d been put in over the years, but not convinced. While we’d been talking Jemima had stripped off with record-breaking speed and was now pulling on her outfit. Even without the mask it looked like something drawn from some dirty old man’s fantasy, which of course it was. On top, the pink fur made it seem as if she had even less chest than usual, which somehow managed to make it look more obscene than had she been busty. The shorts were tiny, encasing her bottom and hips so snugly that the outline of her pussy showed at the front, while at least half her cheeks were spilling out on either side behind. Her tail was disproportionately large, a big yellow puffball sticking out above her bottom at a jaunty angle and bobbing as she moved.

Yellow socks and pink trainers completed the outfit, but there were two details Hudson hadn’t mentioned. The bra top had the word ‘Tribeca’ picked out in yellow across the breasts, while the shorts had ‘Tails’ on the back, worked in so that the letters followed the curves of the bottom, but that was just one more touch
to
the overall ghastliness of the thing. Far worse was the carefully sewn slit running from a few inches beneath the tail right round to the front, which was obviously designed to be pulled open for the insertion of a cock into the wearer’s body, or in this case a strap-on dildo.

She put the head on and the full appalling effect was revealed, although she was cooing in delight as she admired herself in the mirror, making her bunny nose wrinkle and sticking her bottom out to admire the way she filled her shorts and made her tail wiggle. It did look sexy, I had to admit that much, in a sort of vulgar, cutesy way, as if a Walt Disney cartoon had been redrawn by perverts, and Jemima’s girlish, athletic figure suited it as well as anything would. Wearing my own version was going to be unbearably humiliating.

‘Cute,’ Hudson declared, looking Jemima up and down. ‘Very cute.’

Jemima wiggled her bottom at him and he gave her a gentle slap.

‘Now get out of that and into the shower,’ he ordered. ‘You too, Penny. I’ll rustle up some lunch.’

I was a bit taken aback at being effectively ordered to shower with Jemima, but it was typical of the way Hudson behaved and as usual it was hard to take offence. He’d already shown me my room, which was next to theirs, but one of the other spare rooms had an
en suite
bathroom, so it was impossible not to feel a little put out as I undressed and set out fresh clothes.

Jemima was already in the shower, singing to herself as she soaped her body and moving aside to make space for me without a trace of self-consciousness. It was impossible not to admire her, with her slender body and perfect skin, and in other circumstances I might have been tempted to touch. As it was I kept my
hands
to myself, even when she bent to wash between her toes and the little round cheeks of her bottom pressed briefly against my hip.

I was left feeling both somewhat aroused and somewhat confused, unsure of my own reactions, for all that I’d spanked her at Morris’s parties more than once. That was different, somehow less intimate, with an audience to egg us on and other girls taking their turns. She seemed oblivious, chatting happily as she dried her feet with one leg up on the bed so that her pussy was open to me, and even spreading her cheeks in the mirror as she dabbed a little powder on to her bumhole.

Again I was tempted, this time to take her in my arms and lay her down on the bed, where I’d lick her to ecstasy before having her return the favour. I might even have done so, had I not been sure she would call for Hudson to join in, in which case I’d probably end up sucking on his balls while he fucked her or something. Not that I’d have minded so very much, but I suspected that if I gave in to anything like that my last chance of preventing Jemima from disgracing herself would be gone.

I finished drying myself and went next door to dress. Hudson kept his flat very warm, so I threw on a summer dress over plain white panties and slipped my feet into sandals, content to change again if necessary. Hudson wasn’t in the dining room or the kitchen, but he’d put out a bagel with smoked salmon and cream cheese, clearly fresh. Jemima was nowhere to be seen either, but I ran them to earth in his study, where he was eating his bagel in front of a large flat-screen computer monitor and manipulating the mouse with his free hand. Jemima was perched on his lap, stark naked.

‘Let’s see what the opposition is up to,’ he was saying. ‘Oh, hi, Penny. Make yourself comfortable.’

There was a high chair to one side, which I pulled up so that I could see the screen. Hudson had gone to what was obviously the Brooklyn Bitches’ website, a welcome page showing a cartoon of a tall, athletic black girl in the act of leaping to put a basketball in the net. She looked the part, and it might have been a perfectly ordinary sporting website had it not been for her halter top, which was cut so that her breasts showed naked, and the way her skirt had risen to display her bare black bottom. There was some information too, but before I could read it Hudson had clicked on an internal link and a new page had come up. It was designed in blue and white like the first, but showed a number of thumbnails under the title ‘Training Failures’. Each one was of a girl being spanked, either by another girl or in one case a seedy-looking man with white hair and a dirty smirk on his face.