Looking back, I couldn’t help but smile as I drove home from David’s flat. Our time together had rejuvenated our relationship, and I was reluctant to go home. I even got the impression that my boyfriend was genuinely shocked when he realised that since Crete, those were the first two days we had spent on our own together.
Of course, in my own way, I had to subtly remind him of that fact, but he got the message. We needed to find more time for each other.
The weekend had given me the chance to tell David all. Tell him things I needed to say. Cleanse my guilt. Cheating with Karen’s aunt at her eighteen-birthday party had hit me, though it didn’t stop me a few days later from spending an afternoon in bed with her.
I felt better after telling him, and at the same time, I was able to replenish my love for my boyfriend.
The sex with David had been wonderful. We experimented, and he even spanked me, which helped ease my guilt. We reconnected as a couple, reminding me how enjoyable it was to feel a real cock inside me once again.
When we parted on Sunday, we had agreed to make more time for one another.
However, finding time for someone you love is not always easy. While my college timetable was simple, as all my lectures were on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, my relationship one wasn’t.
When I set that out, I hadn’t considered my parents’ renewed interest in swinging. I had caught Mum in the kitchen dressed like a stripper, and later, we had a private mother-daughter chat about it, which happily brought us closer together. However, I had been sworn to secrecy about the adult parties my parents now regularly attended. No one, including David, Brenda, and my sister, knew about them.
When I discovered that my conservative thirty-five-year-old mother attended swinging parties with my father, I was shocked. However, in the six weeks that had passed since then, I had grown to accept it. But what I hadn’t expected was the need for me, or my sister to babysit our two younger brothers every other Saturday night. I had intended to spend that time with David!
What I did manage to do was negotiate a solution with my sister, Ella. She agreed to do it all, providing her boyfriend, Jon, could sleep over the Saturday night using my bed. It was only a single, but it was a better option than trying to fit two into the top bunk, something they had unsuccessfully attempted.
I didn’t mind my sister shagging in my bed. She had promised to wash and change the sheets, as well as turn the mattress over.
So it was agreed upon. Ella and Jon could use my bed, and if they got caught, then I didn’t know anything about it.
I also informed my sister that I had no interest in what they were doing in our bedroom, behind a locked door. But I suspected, now that my sister had discovered sex, that if she was anything like me or, apparently, our mother, she would find it challenging to keep her legs together.
Having Ella do the Saturday night babysitting was a big win, as I could now be with David and Sarah every weekend. The truth was that my relationship with my sister had greatly improved since she had started to date Jon, even if her side of the bedroom remained a mess.
It seemed that we suddenly had a lot more in common and a lot more privacy from our brothers since the recently fitted lock on our bedroom door. We also talked more freely, and our clothing styles were now similar, as Ella had ditched her all-black look for a wider range of colours that showed a lot more skin.
A more practical change between us was that rather than wait for the bathroom to become free, we agreed to change our clothes in our bedroom even if the other was still in the room.
Maybe this may seem like a tiny thing to most people, but for Ella and me it was huge as we accepted some sister nudity. However, this was not like Sarah, who quite brazenly walked completely naked to her family bathroom. With us, it was more about how you would act comfortably while undressing in a public changing room.
I trusted Ella, to the point that she was the only one in my family who knew my true relationship with David. The rest of my family thought I was gay and in two lesbian relationships.
One was with Karen, whom everyone had met and liked.
The other was with a slightly older, wealthy lady who lived in a large penthouse flat that sat on the top of the hill that overlooked our part of the city. No one in my family talked about Brenda; they had not met her, and when they did mention her, they referred to her as “the lady on the hill.”
With Ella maturing and David at least thinking about doing the same, I learnt a few other things from the weekend I spent with my boyfriend.
Though I remained sceptical, he told me that he wouldn’t be working so many long hours as he hired a new production manager, Tony.
Then there was Sarah’s French-speaking and how well that had come along. This was mainly due to the amount of time she had been paid to spend posing naked for Stanley’s portraits.
However, my boyfriend did tell me he was getting a little bored of watching Sarah pose only topless and having to listen to a conversation that was mainly in French. I couldn’t help giggling when he then mentioned that sometimes it felt like he was watching paint dry!
David went on to tell me that he thought Stanley had lost his confidence when it came to asking Sarah to pose in the more erotic positions.
*****
Now her mother was aware that Karen was a lesbian and in a relationship with me; it wasn’t long before the rest of the family also got to know. No one seemed offended; they treated me as one of their own, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty when someone told Karen she must take after her aunt Dorothy. She was the lady who I secretly had sex with at my girlfriend’s eighteenth birthday party.
However, despite what my timetable said, I had a new problem. Karen didn’t have a car or a driving license, having only just started lessons. Therefore, I viewed it as my responsibility to get to my girlfriend’s house each time we arranged a date.
That was simple in the summer, as I could use the bus or the train, but now that the nights had drawn in, the only safe way was to use Mum’s car. However, frustratingly, sometimes my mum needed it! On those days, we resorted to phoning, which was fine for my girlfriend but no good for me, as I had no privacy.
What I needed was reliable use of a car. Even if he let me, I was unable to use my dad’s company car, as I was too young to be insured, and Brenda’s was now also out until I paid my dues. Life once again felt frustrating. I was too old to hang out at the local park, but I needed to get out of the confines of the family house.
Privately, I contemplated using the money from the check David had given me to purchase a second-hand car. But if I did that, my savings would soon diminish, as running a car was not cheap, and I still had to pay my bed tax.
My only hope was Brenda!
When I first called from David’s flat and apologised to her, she mentioned that I was going to be punished by being spanked. On returning the car, I was then informed by Brenda that she would administer my punishment on the following Friday night instead of going to Rainbows.
As an olive branch, she suggested that if I took my punishment, she would consider letting me legally borrow her light blue mini until Christmas. The only condition was that I would have to complete all aspects of the punishment.
*****
In Brenda’s dressing room, I stood there naked, washed, freshly shaved and made up to look more glamorous than I really am. However, I was nervous, unsure, and reluctant to go through with this.
I might be ready, my pussy moist with anticipation, but this was Brenda, and I didn’t know what lay behind the dressing room door.
On Friday evenings we normally go to Rainbow’s, a large city lesbian bar. But tonight there would be no dressing up as Brenda’s femme girlfriend and flaunting my body to the other butch lesbians. This was something she asked me to do, and I enjoyed doing it; teasing had become part of me.
Tonight was quite different; I was going to be spanked, and this was the final part of my punishment for borrowing Brenda’s car without her permission.
I had already agreed to my older girlfriend’s other demands. I had to sleep with her for all three nights we were together at her Art Deco hotel opening, but that was the easy part. The other two demands were harder to accept.
The first was that I had agreed to go on my first “Brenda date.” These were evenings when one of Brenda’s lesbian friends would take me out for the night, wine, and dine me. The catch was that I had to consent to all sexual activities requested by my date, with three exceptions. I was exempt from doing anything illegal, or dangerous, or if it involved pain.
Brenda was pleased when I agreed to her choice of dating partner, touchy-feely Helen. She was an older, blonde, curvy lady who had a habit of touching you every time she spoke.
Helen was a close friend of Brenda’s, and she had been persistently asking my girlfriend to go out on a “Brenda date” with me. Despite not being attracted to her, it was explained that part of the thrill of these dates came when you were forced through the date rules to experience a sexual act that you would not normally want to do.
Though Brenda had then chuckled, “Perhaps that part didn’t apply to me!”
We both knew I was a slut. It was a word that I now embrace. However, I wasn’t convinced that I could enjoy sex with someone who I had no attraction to, though I guessed that I would enjoy the last part of the rule, telling Brenda all about the date.
The other thing I’d agreed to do was break one of my own soft rules with Brenda. This was to do a modelling session with another lesbian where we peed together in front of the camera. Yes, watersports again. It was a Brenda thing. However, and perhaps strangely, pissing whilst being photographed had never disgusted me. I remained neutral on doing the act as long as the photos stayed with my girlfriend and were never shown to David!
I had already completed two solo watersports photoshoots for Brenda and been with a man who had a similar interest, so I wasn’t completely green on this fetish. It was working with another lesbian model that I worried about more than the act of peeing.
However, Brenda had insisted that I had to do this if I wanted the future use of her car. Therefore, I reluctantly agreed. It was another of my soft rules that was broken.
“Right, my dear,” Brenda stated as she stood back and looked at my almost naked body.
The only thing I was wearing was my silver anklet, which Brenda had given to me. It had three chains with different names on each of them. Brenda’s was on the top chain, Karen’s was on the bottom chain, and mine was in the middle. It accurately represented our lesbian relationships.
By comparison, Brenda was still fully dressed, her fake day cock, which she calls a piece, hidden within her baggy jeans. On her top, she wore a flowery black and white blouse and looked overdressed in comparison to me.
“Turn around, Clare, and put your arms up.”
I did as requested, wondering what was happening as Brenda’s bedroom was just on the other side of the door. Then I felt what I can only describe as a sack being dropped over my head. It was a brown piece of material with a hole cut in the middle of it. A yellow rope held it together, yet as soon as I walked, I felt the air coming through onto my body, and I realised that anyone looking from the side would know I was naked underneath.
“Aren’t we going just to your bedroom?” I asked as I suddenly twigged and then thought. Why is there a need for me to wear clothes?
Brenda didn’t say anything. Instead, she went to one of her sex-toy drawers and took out a riding crop, then swished it a few times in the air.
My girlfriend smiled at my worried look; she was enjoying this. “Now, my dear, you are going to do the walk of shame to the sunken settee area as I want to spank you there.”
I anxiously looked at her.
“Oh yes, we do need a safe word.”
“Porcupine,” I mumbled. It was the first word that came into my head.
Brenda grinned evilly. “Oh, no, dear, we need something a little more original.”
She then ran the crop up my leg and between my legs, and I couldn’t help but flinch as she gently rubbed it against my pussy. I felt my pussy juices starting to flow.
“Don’t worry, my dear. You are such a slut; you will probably cum with whatever I use to spank your lovely bum. Now, that safe word…”
Brenda said the last part slowly, her tongue hanging on to each letter, giving it a little more of a dramatic effect. It was so typical of my older girlfriend; at times like this, she needed everything to be turned into a piece of theatre.
“My dear, your safe word is going to be a little longer than normal, but very relevant.”
She paused for dramatic effect.
“It is, Brenda; I will never steal your car again.”
I looked at my girlfriend, confused. This felt surreal. Was this one big tease I thought?
“Pull the front of your dress up.”
I almost giggled as the sack I was wearing was hardly a dress.
However, I did as asked, keeping a straight face as I needed the use of her car. Brenda then took the crop and put it between my legs.
“Open them!”
Again, I did as requested.
My girlfriend slid the crop along my slit, making me want to ride it as my pussy juices started to flow. I even tried to encourage it into my opening, my body trying to hump it. I may have been anxious as to what was about to happen, but my pussy was alive and ready for sex.
“You see, my dear, this crop was not as bad after all, as your cunt seems to like it. Now say the safety words.”
But my mind drifted back to when I rode horses and how I used to use them on my horse when it didn’t respond… “Brenda, I will never steal your car again.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it, my dear? Would it surprise you that your boyfriend suggested that sentence to us as a safe word?”
I was stunned. “Is he here?”
“No, my dear, but he said you needed disciplining and something about the fact that he had already warmed you up.”
Brenda waited as I took in her words, and I realised she was telling me the truth. David had mentioned that very thing when I last stayed at his flat, and he spanked me.
“He also said that you needed the use of a car so that you could drive over to see him more often.”
Not knowing what to say, I just stood there, the front of my sack still in my hands and up. Brenda’s crop lightly flicked my pussy, causing my body to twitch once again.
“You still with us?” she asked.
“Yes, I just needed a moment,” I replied.
“Come on,” I heard as my girlfriend took my hand, and a moment later I was standing on the steps in front of the sunken settee area. In its centre, the stage had reappeared, and on top of that was a round padded wheel with five straps to fasten someone to it. But what shocked me was the small group of people sitting on the settees looking at me.
On the left side were Paula, Tina, Jaz, and Sarah. I had no idea why David’s other girlfriend was here, but it appeared she had been invited.
On the right side were Jill and, surprisingly, Linda. She was the lady I had made out with in the toilets at Rainbow’s, and I had deliberately not told Brenda, which I knew was against her rules. Finally, there was Hugo, Brenda’s estranged, gay husband, and his partner Desmond.
“I didn’t know you had been selling tickets,” I bravely said to Brenda, thinking that my punishment had become a spectator sport, though my pussy was now soaked.
Brenda was grinning from ear to ear; she knew she had surprised me. “As you can see, we appeared to have gained an audience for your spanking. Let me introduce you.”
Still dressed in the sack, Brenda walked me around the central table and rattled off each name as I shook their hand. Again, this felt very surreal, especially as I knew them all and had sex with everyone except Jill and the two gay men.
When I reached Linda, Brenda further embarrassed me by saying, “I believe you already know Linda; well, you fucked her, though you seem to have forgotten to tell me.”
I turned bright red; I had been caught!
“You think I wouldn’t find out?” Brenda enquired, irritated. “I will always, eventually, find out. You should know that, Clare. You see Linda left her husband and is…
