Join the Dots…

From Blushes 31

‘Stand against the wall,’ he said. ‘Stand up straight with your arms up. Let’s see what you’ve got.’

A tall athletic girl with short-cropped, bright-blonde hair. A thin tank-top and brief knickers. Ankle-socks and high-heels. That was all, all of it white. The brief garments revealed a strong, shapely body: small, high, firm tits but muscular looking hips and thighs. A dancer perhaps. She obediently did as she was told.

‘Stretch them up. Wrists together. Hang from your arms. As if you were holding on to a rope, or something.’

She complied. Sagging the full weight of her full hips against the wall, her cross-wristed arms stretched as far as they could reach. The man came close. His face a few inches from hers. She swallowed. His hands came up and rubbed the taut, firmly-nippled boobs through the thin top.

‘Fit, are you, Gretchen?’

She nodded. ‘I… think so.’ Her nipples were stiffening under the thin cotton, under the stimulus of the large male hands. He grunted. ‘Like this, do you?’

Her face pinkening. She swallowed again but gave no answer. He didn’t seem to need an answer. His hands came away. The nipples were thrusting firmly out, aroused, engorged. He grunted again. ‘I’ve seen bigger tits. But I’m not really a big tit man. Turn round. Let’s see your bum. Keep the arms up.’

She turned, arms still raised. Arms that now ached from holding the posture. She had full, flaring buttocks in the tight little knickers. The muscular rump of a trained thoroughbred mare. His hand hefted one cheek. He made an approving sound.

‘Nice arse. You’ve got a nice arse, I’ll say that.’ His fingers reached underneath, under the jutting overhang. ‘I like a nice arse on my girls.’

Two hands were all at once at the hem of the skimpy top. In one smooth movement it was up in her armpits. The large hands travelled lightly up the exposed flesh, then reached round to the still stiff nipples. She shuddered. The hands… and also the muscle-straining pose.

Her mouth close to the wall said, ‘My arms… they’re hurting…’

‘Hurting?’ Fingers painfully squeezing the aroused nipples. She gasped. ‘Is that so?’ A laugh; not a very pleasant one. ‘I believe a little bit of hurt is good for a girl, Gretchen. Keeps her honest.’ His face came close, into the bright-blonde cropped hair. His fingers pinched afresh. ‘A cane across her arse.’

He let go and stepped back. ‘Turn again. And keep the arms at full stretch.’

Facing him once more. Not wanting to meet his eyes; focussing her gaze on the far wall. Her exposed, stiff-nippled tits pointing at him. The muscles of her arms were beginning to tremble. She thought of the cane. Bent over with its hot sting zipping into her bared nates. He would cane her, she could sense that. Just for the enjoyment of it.

‘Let’s see the rest then.’ In close, his hands to her hips. Abruptly skinning the knickers down, to her knees. She forced her eyes to remain on the far wall, over his shoulder. Her breath hissing out from between slightly parted lips. His hand. Taking hold of her.

‘Open your legs.’ His voice low. ‘Just… that’s better.’ Fingers sliding in. Sliding along her entrance. His voice a low growl. ‘Like some action here, do we, Gretchen? Eh?’ The fingers opening the lips. Her mouth opening but she didn’t speak. Just try… and concentrate… on her aching arms. On the wall. He could do just what he wanted of course.

The fingers stopped what they were doing. A harsh laugh. The fingers sharply pinched the soft inside of her thigh. She squealed.

‘Turn again. Let’s have another look at the bum.’ Obediently turning. ‘Now bend your knees. Let it stick out.’

Doing that too. No question of not doing exactly as he wanted. Letting her ripe bottom thrust out, and drop down. To where his waiting hand was. Hissing her breath out but not flinching from the invasive contact. The fingers making her sweat but her arms now, her shoulder joints, were throbbing with hot insistent pain. So that the insult of the fingers, their brusque examination, seemed less important.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes. I think so, Gretchen.’

----//----

Outside he spoke to the other man. No serious argument. The form was signed. Back in the room Gretchen was rubbing aching shoulder joints.

‘Good, he said. ‘Very good. Pull your knickers up. Have you got any clothes?’ She said Yes. He was fastening the tag with his name on round her wrist.