Instructed to Play

‘Karen looked beautiful in her wedding dress, didn’t she, Joe?’ Mary commented.

Joe lit a kitchen match, applied the flame to shredded newspaper at the base of the three logs he’d stacked up. ‘Yes,’ he responded, ‘she did.’ He turned his head and gazed at his wife. ‘But you looked even more –’

‘I have a confession to make, Joe,’ Mary stated, setting her knitting down.

The wooden match fell out of Joe’s suddenly stiffened fingers, sparking a small blaze on the carpet that he quickly stomped out. He stared at his wife.

She smiled, sitting upright in her chair in the long-skirted blue dress she’d worn to the wedding. Her auburn hair was still done up, coils dangling down, her pretty face dusted with make-up, lips glistening red. Joe was still wearing his good white shirt and striped tie, his black suit pants, the shine on his black dress shoes reflecting the growing flames in the fireplace.

‘Mary, I don’t know if –’

‘I imagined I was up there with Karen and her lovely bridesmaids, and Karen and I were kissing, as everybody watched. Her tongue darted into my mouth, wet and eager, and we swirled our tongues together, right in front of the minister. I ran my fingers through her long, silky blonde hair, and she ran her hands down my back and onto my bum cheeks, our tongues dancing out in the open for all to see. Then I painted her soft wet lips with my tongue, then bit into her long silken neck, our large breasts squishing together, she in her white lace wedding dress and me in a body-hugging black tuxedo.’

Joe swallowed, hard. He barely felt the heat from the crackling fire; it was the heat of his wife’s words that was making him burn. There was a growing bulge in between his legs, swelling out the front of his pants.

‘We sucked on each other’s tongues for a moment, and then I pushed Karen’s wedding dress right off her buff shoulders, and it fell down to her waist, exposing her round breasts. I cupped her creamy-white tits, feeling their warmth and weight, revelling in their smoothness. Then I kissed my way down Karen’s chest to her breasts, licked in between them. The bridesmaids gathered around us, Lindsay, Alisha and Amy. I felt their hands on my back and my butt, caressing me, their fingers running through my hair. But I kept on squeezing Karen’s breasts, licking all over the swollen mounds, twirling my tongue right around her engorging nipples, stretching them up higher and harder with my tongue.’

Joe reached down and gripped the poker, lifted it. But then he looked down at the lethal iron instrument, and dropped it. There was a yardstick leaning against the side of his chair. He’d brought it home from school for some sketches he was making of a possible addition to their house – a nursery. He walked over, picked up the three-foot-long wooden ruler and lightly smacked it against the palm of his left hand. His erection tented out his pants.

‘I sucked on Karen’s breasts, clutching them up and nursing on them, taking the stiff, rubbery tips into my mouth and pulling on them with my lips, bobbing my head back and forth between her luscious breasts and succulent nipples. Karen grabbed on to my head, moaning, arching her chest into my mouth. Until I kissed and licked my way down to her stomach, leaving her nipples all shiny, her breasts heaving up and down. I pulled her wedding dress with me as I went down, so that when I reached her bellybutton, squirmed the tip of my tongue inside, her dress had dropped right down to her feet, and her beautiful blonde pussy was right in front of me. She was as wet as I was, Joe.’

Mary stood up and shed her own dress, stepped out of it and walked over to her husband in her sensible black heels, her body starkly naked. Her breasts shuddered and her buttocks swished, hips swaying, her pussy winking with moisture. Joe took her hand and positioned her in front of the fireplace. She gripped the stone mantle and spread her legs back, pushed her butt out, the orange flames making her heated body glow.

‘I slid my hands down onto her bum and dug my fingernails into the thick, round flesh, dug my tongue in between Karen’s long legs and licked her juicy pussy.’

Joe loosened his pants and shoved them down over his cock. He stood to the side, yardstick and cock raised, both wooden instruments twitching, straining to be used.

‘She was so wet and tangy. I dragged my tongue over her pussy again and again, her fur and her lips, lapping at the woman’s cunt.’

Whack! The long hard ruler cracked across Mary’s buttocks.

She jumped, fingernails scraping stone. She arched her back and her bum. ‘I stuck my tongue right inside her, Joe, eating out her hot pussy. I shot my hands up onto her breasts and squeezed them some more, rolling her nipples, as I writhed my tongue around inside her velvety pink tunnel.’

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Joe’s cock jumped along with Mary’s body, pearls of pre-come flipping out of his slit, as he slashed her bottom with the yardstick. Both husband and wife burned in the heat of the fire, of their passion, white streaks flashing across Mary’s buttocks where the ruler struck, then smouldering red, striping her brazen brown bottom.

‘But just before Karen came in my mouth, on the end of my tongue, her bridesmaids lifted me up and stretched me out on the altar table. They were all as naked as Karen and I. They fondled me, kissed me, their hands all over me – then their mouths. Alisha and Lindsay sucked on my breasts, while Amy sucked on my tongue. And then Karen climbed up onto the table with me. She straddled my head with her knees, looking down at me from over her tits in her hands, her wedding veil still on. She stuck her sodden cunt right in my face and I grabbed on to her bum and licked as hard as I could. Lindsay and Alisha gripped and squeezed my tits and sucked on my jutting nipples, Amy now licking the length of my brimming slit.’

Joe slammed the ruler against his wife’s ass in a frenzy, flailing her butt with the only slightly flexible wood. Mary rocked forward, almost right into the fire, her thrust-back, blazing buttocks gyrating wildly.

Joe gasped for air, his arm sore, his cock throbbing. But still he blasted blow after blow into Mary’s bottom, welting her cheeks with ridges. Until, suddenly, the yardstick snapped across his wife’s shuddering butt, breaking in two.

‘Oh, Joe!’ Mary cried, sticking her blistered bum even further out and up, begging for more. ‘Things got even wilder, more depraved. Because, suddenly, Amy and Alisha were wearing strap-ons – long black dildos strapped to their hips and bottoms, just like men’s cocks, only bigger. And I was on top of Amy up on the altar table, stretched out on my back on top of her hot tits and body, Alisha kneeling in between my spread legs. Amy played the bloated tip of her dildo around my bum pucker, while Alisha dragged her cockhead over my pussy lips. They were going to double-penetrate me, Joe, as I sucked on Karen’s pussy.’

Joe threw the splintered foot and a half of yardstick away, desperately looked around the living room.

‘Your belt, Joe!’ his wife urged. ‘Use your belt!’

Joe dived down and ripped the wide black leather belt out of the loops of his fallen pants, rose back up. He gripped the buckle, folded the leather length back once, then raised the tanning instrument, glaring at Mary’s brazen ass, his cock straining.

‘Amy plunged her dong into my ass, and Alisha speared hers into my pussy. I almost burst with feeling, with passion – a huge black dildo stuffing my bum, another one stuffing my pussy. I slurped wildly on Karen’s slit, Amy pumping my chute, Alisha my cunt.’

Joe cracked the belt across Mary’s buttocks, whipping the woman. She shrieked, jolted shuddering onto her toes, her bum cheeks seared with the white stripe laid down by the black leather. Joe slashed her again, and again, and again, the belt streaking through the air, striking Mary’s bottom with flailing impact, shattering husband and wife.

‘Amy fucked me up the ass, Alisha fucked my pussy, the girls pumped full-length into my burning holes with their tremendous dongs. Meanwhile Lindsay sucked on my nipples and squeezed my boobs. And I hung onto Karen’s rippling bum cheeks and lapped her dripping cunt like a madwoman. I could hardly comprehend what was happening, what I was feeling, my emotions so wickedly wanton.’

Joe lashed Mary with his belt, blasting red and white stripes all over her ass, raising welts of stung, steaming flesh and then crushing them flat again. He was covered in sweat, gasping for breath, his cock jumping with every flogging blow, pre-come still flinging out of his slit. It went on and on and on, Mary’s fingernails breaking on the stone mantle, body bouncing brutally to the savage song of the improvised whip.

Until, finally, Joe threw the heated belt aside and crowded right in behind his quivering wife. He plunged his cock into her molten pussy.

Mary moaned, gasped, ‘Everybody in the church was watching us. Karen screamed, pulling on her nipples, her bum cheeks quivering in my hands, her pussy drenching my face. I lapped her slit, drinking in all I could, giving the gushing bride the best wedding gift of all. And then I was gifted with joy, too.’

Joe grabbed on to Mary’s breasts, slamming his cock back and forth in her pussy. He thumped against his wife’s blistered buttocks, pounding in the pleasure pussy and bum, plumbing the depths of both their sexualities with his cock.

‘Amy and Alisha frantically plugged my anus and pussy, Lindsay biting into my nipples, almost tearing them off. I was sent heavenward. Oh, Joe! I came so hard and so –’

She spasmed, jumping in her husband’s arms, on the end of his wildly churning cock. He jerked with his own searing orgasm, jetting inside her. The pair shuddered and squirted in front of the roaring blaze, joined in holy brimstone ecstasy of pussy and cock.

* * *

As a born-again Christian, Mary was only too glad to confess her sins. As a former adult actress with over 200 pornos under her belt, she had committed many such sins. Getting fucked by a minister in front of his flock with a follow-up group facial; lezzing it up with a bride and her bridesmaids in front of their wedding guests; these were but two of the scorching scenarios she had participated in on film.

She had only to wait for her bum to partially heal, before she’d ‘confess’ more such ‘fantasies’ to her righteously loving husband. So he could dish out her penance of perverse punishment, the pleasure of which they would both share in.

Transformation (#ulink_ef3cf2f4-ccb3-5019-af59-c4e7cfee776d)

Poppy St Vincent (#ulink_ef3cf2f4-ccb3-5019-af59-c4e7cfee776d)

She looked at herself in the steamy bathroom mirror. Naked, she screwed up her eyes and surveyed the image. Turning left and right she looked at her tummy and her bottom and sighed. She saw curves everywhere.

‘Can that ever be a good thing?’ she wondered out loud.

Turning her face to the left and the right she pinned her hair up, trying to see beyond her own perceptions, how another would see her.

The bath was hot. She eased slowly in, the heat reminding her of ofuro, the Japanese baths of a lifetime ago. Indeed she sat for some minutes with the gentle formality of a Japanese lady before she gave up and eased back and down into the water.

The water was soft pink and petals rested on the smooth surface. She skimmed a finger to push the petals, to form a queue, she thought. She wanted to see order in the chaos. Breathing in the scent of jasmine and clary sage she allowed herself to relax and reflect.

* * *

The day started out so well. The scent of autumn cutting through the frayed ends of summer met her as she left the house for work. She wore a scarf and a light jumper, a combination that pleased her. It reminded her of childhood walks and crunchy leaves, of firelight, laughter and burnished reds and golds. She was doused in optimism until she looked in her post box and read the printing on the outside of a letter. A slow nausea crept over her as she slipped a finger along the crease and opened the envelope.

It was a fine notice – a fine of hundreds of pounds for not renewing her car tax, which she had had the money to pay but had not. What made her flood with guilt was that she had sworn to him, with wide and believable eyes, that she had paid it. She had even persuaded herself that she had done so. It had just been one of those dull little jobs that she did not want to do; spending money on a stupid piece of paper seemed such a waste. She had ignored it at first and then lied to make herself seem more efficient and then, when she remembered it in the dead of night, she just hoped somehow that she could ignore it and be let off.

When she was a child her father used to lend her money all the time and not once had she to repay it. It seemed so unfair to have to learn now that the world was not her benevolent father. Therein lay the problem, and it had led to this horrid, officious, formal telling-off, with barbs on.

She knew the issue would not be the money. If she needed that amount for something there would be no problem. The problem was the needless expense and the twenty-something different lies she had told to cover it up. Just moments before, she had felt so good, so on top of it all, but the letter made her feel fed up and useless. She felt stupid and that was so much worse than being in trouble.