Awakenings

A dark tale of young girls sexual awakenings set in London

Written by Dickins

This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and 
incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used 
here fictitiously. Any resemblance to real events, locals or any persons, 
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Story Codes: ped, femdom, mast, and bdsm

Chapter 2, Annabelle's Assessment

Annabelle looked at herself yet again in her wardrobe mirror and tried to 
calm her racing heart. It was nearly time to start work, and yet she 
wasn't sure if she looked perfect enough.

She had dressed in one of the uniforms she'd been given, the blue of the 
jacket and pencil skirt matching and complementing her eyes. Then she'd 
chosen to pin her hair to one side, and wasn't quite sure whether to let 
the ear ring remain or not.

That wasn't all that bothered her. She wished that she'd worn the 
underwear that she'd been given by Mr Selby over the weekend but had 
learnt how to ignore the thong of silk that nestled between bottom 
cheeks, always there, her mind always conscious of it.

Then there was the camisole. Not that it wasn't the loveliest thing she'd 
ever worn, but it was the first time she'd not worn a bra, and now her 
breasts moved slightly whenever she moved. The tender tips of her nipples 
constantly brushed the silk, flooding her breasts with tingling 
sensations, yet another thing that distracted her attention. Thankfully, 
her jacket hid the points her nipples made in the blouse she wore.

Finally, there were the shoes. Her ankles and the inside of her foot-arch 
were already aching, and she'd only worn the three-inch heels for a few 
minutes. She wondered if she'd survive the day, then yelped as she saw 
the time.

Her fears and aches fled as she hurried from her room towards the lift. 
Glancing at her watch she bit her lip when she saw the time. Willing the 
cage to hurry, she rocked herself, the movement calming her and sending 
sensations through her unsupported breasts.

The lift finally arrived and she stabbed the ground floor button and 
prayed it wouldn't stop anywhere on its way down. She just couldn't be 
late for her first day, not when she was staying in the same hotel too! 
The lift slowed, pulling Annabelle downwards before it stopped with a 
little bounce, and Annabelle was out and striding through the foyer, 
stumbling occasionally before making it to the reception.

"Hello, I'm Annabelle Hopkins," she announced.

"It's alright! I know who you are," smiled the man who had been on 
reception when she arrived for her interview. "I'm Alan. Mr Selby is 
waiting for you in his office," he told her, pointing the way just in 
case she had forgotten.

Annabelle nodded and walked carefully, concentrating on her high heels 
before knocking on the door and stepping into the old-world office.
Mr Selby wasn't alone, although at first it looked as if he was. He 
looked to be looking at the carpet behind his desk, but moments later a 
young girl appeared, clambering to her feet to return a ruler that must 
have dropped from the desk.

Annabelle thought her possibly two years older and a little taller than 
herself with a prominent bust and a bottom that generously filled out the 
pencil skirt of the uniform she wore.

"Ah Annabelle! This is Jane Reynolds, the previous holder of your job," 
Mr Selby told her, introducing her to her. They shook hands, Jane smiling 
and welcoming her. "It can be a very difficult job at times, and we don't 
want to drop you in at the deep end and possibly loose you," he was 
saying kindly.

"Thank you," Annabelle said politely, returning Jane's open and friendly 
smile.

"Jane will show you the ropes and, I hope, bring you slowly into our 
world. I hope you'll find it both enjoying and rewarding," he told her.

She nodded to Mr Selby and allowed Jane to lead her out of the office and 
down a narrow flight of stairs marked for staff only. She found herself 
in the service area moving between a laundry, storerooms and the massive 
kitchens. Jane moved with confidence, calling out hello to several people 
and rapidly introducing her new charge before moving on again.

Following behind, Annabelle was conscious of how the girl's bottom moved 
under her skirt. The material moulded tightly to the rounded cheeks of 
her bottom and followed their movement as she swayed sensuously. 
Annabelle wondered if her own bottom swayed so roundedly, or indeed if it 
fitted her skirt so tightly, nearly bumping into the girl as she stopped.

Jane grinned making Annabelle wonder if she knew what she'd been 
thinking, then opened a door. "This is the Staff Room," she said, 
welcoming her into the large and comfortable room. "No one will be down 
here for ages yet," Jane explained, clicking on the kettle and pulling 
two mugs from the shelf. "Coffee?" she asked.

"Tea please, milky with one," Annabelle asked, looking about her again.
 
"Are there many staff?" she asked.

"Quite a few if you include the cleaners and the kitchen staff, but not 
many of us do. They keep to themselves," Jane explained. "That leaves 
about three or four of us at any one time," she told Annabelle, preparing 
her tea and handing it to her.

"So, where do you come from?" she asked.

Annabelle explained about where she lived and leaving school early and 
how she hoped to gain some real experience instead of qualifications.

"What about you?" she asked.

Jane grinned and plumped herself down on one of the low chairs. "My 
cousin used to do the job, which is how I ended up doing it. I'm leaving 
soon, to go to work for one of the regular guests, looking after their 
children," she said proudly.

"It's not a lot of extra money, but I get to travel all over the place. 
And I love looking after children especially naughty ones," she added 
with a giggle.

"Do many children stay at the Hotel?" Annabelle asked.

Jane nodded and grinned. "Oh yes!" she told Annabelle with a giggle and 
leapt up to fetch a packet of biscuits.

They tucked into the biscuits while continuing to chat, Jane explaining 
that the front desk would phone her if they were needed. "Mr Selby wants 
you introduced slowly though, so they the guests won't need to contact me 
for anything when I leave," she explained.

"Like what?" Annabelle asked.

"Ah, that would be telling," Jane, grinned. "You'll soon find out. Until 
then, consider yourself lucky that you don't have to work quite so hard," 
she grinned.

Annabelle wanted to ask more but the phone rang and Jane hurriedly 
answered it, giving her name before listening.

"Ok! We'll be right up." Jane said and replaced the handset. "We've got a 
job! Mrs Davies wants us to help dress her son for a party," she said, 
standing and waiting for Annabelle to do the same before leading her out 
of the staff room.

They used the lift again, travelling up to the fifth floor before walking 
down the plush corridor to the front of the building. Jane knocked 
politely on the door, and shortly, a breathless and portly lady in her 
forties answered.

"Oh, I'm glad you're here," Mrs Davies panted. "The costume from 
Thornton's has arrived for Daniel but I'm afraid he just won't put it 
on!" she cried. "I just knew this would happen!" she explained, hustling 
the girls in and closing the door hurriedly behind them.

"I won't, and you can't make me!" cried Daniel.

Stepping into the room, Jane put her hands on her hips as she saw the 
young boy who was causing all the fuss. Annabelle did too and was 
reminded of the boys in her hometown, all bluster and bravado, jeans and 
a football club top.

"You want to bet?" Jane said.

Daniel looked at them both licking his lips cautiously.

"You don't know what it's like. I am not going to wear it!" he cried, his 
hands in little fists.

Annabelle went over to the box and drew the lid aside so she could better 
see the contents. She had to smile as inside there was a party dress 
similar to one Mrs Thornton had made her wear complete with vest, cotton 
panties, ankle socks and a pair of black patent shoes.

Clearly there had been a mistake thought Annabelle as these clothes were 
for a little girl and she couldn't help wondering why Mrs Davies insisted 
that Daniel had to wear them.

"Keep away from me, or I'll scream!" he warned.

"You are going to do as your told, or you're going to feel my hand across 
your bottom!" Jane warned, her smile lost as she grabbed for his arm and 
pulled him from the corner.

"Please don't be difficult," Mrs Davies begged, as Daniel was dragged 
from the corner and pushed towards Annabelle who had lifted the party 
dress for all to see.

"I'm not going to put that on!" Daniel told them, tears swelling in his 
eyes.

"Oh yes you are," Jane warned.

"Mummy, please!" he begged.

"He just wants us to undress him, that's all," Annabelle giggled.

"I don't so!" he cried, blushing brightly and pulling his arm from Jane's 
grip.

"Others boys do!" Mrs Davies told him. "Joseph has a lovely little dress 
that he wears indoors," she explained with a smile.

"He's a sissy!" Daniel stormed.

"He does as his mother tells him, or else!" Jane told him, her face set 
in grim lines as she pulled the boy's T-shirt from his trousers and bared 
his lean and tanned belly.

"No, no! I'll do it!" Daniel cried out, weighing up the two evils and 
deciding quite instinctively that he didn't want a girl to undress him, 
or to have his bottom spanked.

"Go on then," Jane told him, her eyes threatening to do it herself if he 
didn't hurry.

"I just love those panties," Annabelle told Mrs Davies, showing her the 
special pouch into which her son's cock would be fitted, holding it 
neatly between his thighs so as not to spoil the affect.

"The lady in the shop had so much trouble, firstly undressing him and 
then in taking his measurements," Mrs Davies said, watching in amazement 
as her son finally started to undress himself.

The girls did too, Jane with her arms folded, her very presence a warning 
to him should he hesitate or stop. Annabelle meanwhile, held out the 
panties he was to wear and watched with interest as the boy undressed.

She'd never seen a naked boy so close before and the thought of seeing 
one now excited her. She admired Daniel's chest and belly, liking the 
smooth texture to his skin. His shoulders looked smoothly muscular, 
something she liked in a boy, and for the first time she noticed his 
nipples, finding she liked the small and dark little discs.

Daniel stepped from his trousers, then, blushing hotly, did the same with 
his underpants, standing then with his hands in front of him, burning as 
his mother and the girls looked him over, their eyes paying special 
attention to his lean young bottom.

"I'm not a circus act you know!" he complained hotly, his burning face 
more to do with how his cock had started to harden than with anger at 
being watched. He cupped his privates more tightly in an effort to hide 
them and looked nervously towards his new set of clothes.

Annabelle smiled and bent down to hold the panties out for him. As he 
raised a foot to step into the garment, his hands swept out in order to 
help him balance and Annabelle found that she was staring at his 
hardening cock, a soft down of hair around its base.

Enthralled, she drew the panties up, much more interested in his cock 
than in trying to hide it under girlish panties. She licked her lips, 
dying to feel the soft curls around its base, then looked at the handsome 
cock, finding herself drawn to its soft and pliant flesh.

The panties slid smoothly up his thighs and Daniel made to finish the 
job, only to have Annabelle smack his hands away.

"I'll do it!" Annabelle told him sharply, and then before he could 
complain, she had taken his cock between her thumb and forefinger, 
drawing it into the special pouch in the panties, and tucking it between 
his thighs where it would be hidden from view.

Then with a sharp pull upwards, Annabelle drew up his panties and grinned 
as the finishing touch made him gasp and rise onto his toes.

"Not too tight?" she asked, smiling while reaching out to slide a hand 
down the back. She felt his firm young bottom, and then slid her fingers 
around the front to squeeze his cock and balls, licking her lips as she 
felt it respond to her touch and begin to harden even more.

"Mummy!" he cried out, drawing back from the knowing touch and panting 
with the sudden excitement it had brought him.

"It's all right! I will make you feel better, just as soon as you're all 
dressed and ready," she promised.

"Do I have to?" he begged, looking up beseechingly at her.

"Yes!" she told him sternly.

Annabelle watched as the cotton panties slipped between the cheeks of his 
bottom in much the same way as she remembered hers doing. She thought of 
lowering them again to see his bottom. Blushing hotly and feeling her 
excitement flowing over her, she thought of easing the tail of her toy 
snake into his anus, pushing it in whilst he lay over a bolster, watching 
him pant hotly with its intrusion.

"Now the dress!" Mrs Davies urged breathlessly.

Annabelle broke from her trance to quickly lift it from the bed, opening 
it out and gathering it so it could be slid over his head.

"Arms up," she called, her heart pounding.

Daniel looked fit to cry, yet he did as he was told and Annabelle settled 
the dress over his body, Jane helping from his other side to draw the 
tight bodice down, encasing him in lovely pink.

All that was left to do was to fasten the buttons at the back drawing his 
waist inwards, and for him to put on the ankles socks and black patent 
shoes. But for his short hair, Daniel looked just like a little girl.

His face slowly crumpled as he began to cry, somewhat spoiling the 
affect, yet he still looked lovely to Annabelle.

"Don't you look pretty?" Annabelle remarked.

"What's this?" his mother gasped. Daniel squirmed, his thighs opening as 
his mother stroked his captured cock.

"Are you ready?" his mother asked.

"Yes!" Daniel replied breathlessly.

Jane touched Annabelle's arm and pointed towards the door, their job was 
done.

******

The next day Annabelle was placed on reception with Alan. For the most 
part it meant watching him at work and listening to him explaining all 
the ways of the hotel.

The hardest part was the billing. With no computer system, the whole 
thing was done by hand, which meant a piece of paper, properly completed 
and signed, being put in the guest's folder for every chargeable item 
ready for their departure.

All the internal receipts from the day before were then itemised on the 
front of the guest's folder and subtotalled, making it easier to complete 
when the guest left, which all took a surprisingly long time.

Annabelle learnt a lot about their guests by doing the daily totals for 
Alan, then watched how he dealt with their requests and demands, 
impressed with the even way he had with dealing with them all, 
irrespective of how rude, polite, aggressive or demanding they were of 
him.

Guests came and went through the foyer at irregular intervals and often 
stopped to ask questions of Alan, and when they did they would invariable 
look towards Annabelle and smile. Annabelle was nervous at first, but 
Alan explained that a newsletter had alerted guests to Jane's departure, 
and that you had been hired to replace her.

"They're just interested in getting to know you, that's all," he told her 
with a comforting smile.

"Will they all be needing my services?" she asked, daunted by the task.

"Not everyone! But the regulars certainly will," he explained.

Mrs Davies walked past reception with Daniel, the boy back in his usual 
jeans and football top. Their eyes met and Annabelle smiled and Daniel 
missed a step, stumbling before hurrying on. Annabelle giggled, 
remembering him in his party dress. She hummed a tune to herself, pleased 
that she could have that reaction on someone.

Mr Selby smiled and beckoned Annabelle over.

"You have been requested to attend a family session in Suite 504," he 
told her, his expression showing his concern. "I have explained to Mrs 
Jennings that you are a relative novice and that, while you show much 
promise, I don't want you exposed too much to some of our guests quirks," 
he explained.

"I see," Annabelle replied.

"Mrs Jennings has assured me that your involvement will be totally 
passive, and that all she wishes is that you are present to add mystery 
to the session," he told her.

"So you want me to go to them and just watch?" she asked.

"In effect, that is what they have asked for," he agreed. "But be 
warned," he added, holding a finger up for her total attention. "The 
Jennings's are a very rich and powerful family and are frequent guests at 
The Wessex Hotel, but their use of the truth can be somewhat vague at 
times," he told her. "None the less, it would be good experience for you 
my dear," Mr Selby advised.

"Thank you for warning me," Annabelle replied, her mind made up and ready 
to go.

"Take ten minutes to freshen yourself up first if you wish," he 
suggested.

Suite 504 was just below her own and where the corridors were that much 
broader, the carpets that much richer, than on the lower floors. There 
was a special lift that only went to the fifth floor and the key tags 
were more discrete.

Annabelle knocked, and then waited patiently until someone came to let 
her in.

When the door opened Annabelle saw the same little girl who she'd met 
coming out of Appleby's, the special riding equipment shop. She smiled 
and noted that the little girl was blushing, her eyes quickly and meekly 
lowering.

"I'm Claire," she mumbled, as she gestured for Annabelle to enter.

"Hello, I'm Annabelle," she told her.

"I know! Mother said that you'd be coming," Claire said, her blushes for 
some reason growing even hotter.

Annabelle smiled and followed her into the main room, stopping hesitantly 
when she saw her mother again.

The woman stood and smiled, her bright hazel eyes pining Annabelle with 
their intensity. She flowed more than stepped towards Annabelle, a long 
arm extended, her sheer blouse falling back to reveal a slender and 
tanned wrist.

"We're so pleased that you could make it," she purred, her thumb 
caressing the back of Annabelle's as they shook hands, and sending a flow 
of sensations into Annabelle's body. "I'm Sarah Jennings," she explained.

"I'm Annabelle," she explained, overwhelmed by the woman's presence, her 
manner, her beauty and, most of all, the air of control and mastery that 
she exuded.

Sarah smiled as if unaware of the reaction she caused in others and 
continued to draw Annabelle further into the room, her fingers now 
lightly stroking her arm, the result shooting into her body.

"Claire performs much better with an audience," Mrs Jennings told her, 
steering her to the couch.

"Let me take your jacket. You'll be far too warm in it," Sarah said, 
helping Annabelle to slide it off.

Annabelle could hardly refuse, not since she had already turned and the 
garment was already half down her arms before she realised it. Her jacket 
gone, she had no reason not to turn back to her hostess, trying not to 
think of her extended nipples and as a result they seemed to throb even 
more strongly.

The lady smiled and Annabelle blushed, instinctively knowing her rising 
nipples had been spotted under the sheer blouse and silk camisole she 
wore. She felt her breasts grow heavier and silently wished for a thick 
bra to hide them behind.

Annabelle sat on the settee, and Sarah sat down beside her. Claire 
reappeared, looking as meek as she'd done earlier, holding the door open 
for a man Annabelle assumed was her father.

He was pulling a sturdy contraption into the room, and although it was 
covered, she recognised it straight away as one of those wooden horses 
from Appleby's complete with saddle and stirrups.

"We had it designed especially for Claire," Sarah told Annabelle proudly.
Once the cover was removed, it wasn't difficult to see how the saddle 
differed from the one she rode and she shuddered at the thought. The seam 
was much more pronounced and the beads much rougher.

It was also much larger and the base much rounder forcing the stirrups 
further out and increasing the contact that the rider's thighs and 
genitals would have with the beads. Annabelle licked her lips, thankful 
that it wasn't her that had to ride it, but rather than feeling sorry for 
the poor girl she couldn't help but feel excited.

"This is Dennis, my husband," Sarah explained.

"I'm pleased to meet you sir," Annabelle said.

"Ah! Our lovely guest liaison representative!" Dennis said, walking over 
to the settee and sitting on the other side, pinning her between the two 
of them.

"Will you look at the poor child!" he chuckled brightly.

They did, and fell silent as they watched Claire staring at the raised 
seam that ran down the centre of the saddle. The little girl chewed on 
her lip, gazing at it and swaying slightly, her face flooded with colour 
one moment, pale the next.

"Claire!" her mother called.

The child jerked as if slapped and looked towards her mother, her eyes 
quickly and nervously darting to each of them in turn before timidly 
lowering to the floor.

"Yes Mother?" she asked quietly.

"You're not going to be a naughty, disobedient little girl, are you?" 
Sarah asked her daughter.

Claire licked her lips and shook her head.

"Because! You know what happens to disobedient little girls, don't you 
Claire?" her mother said softly.

The child gripped her baggy top and nodded, her eyes dating up to glance 
at them again, seeming to beg them not to be angry with her.

"Undress!" her mother ordered.

Claire turned bright red and meekly lowered her face, glancing at her 
father and Annabelle, her hands obeying her mother. Annabelle found her 
breath was suddenly short as she watched the girl slip her top off, 
baring a pretty vest that curved lovingly around the little cones that 
were her budding breasts.

Annabelle remembered her own developing, and the awkwardness she felt 
because of them. She remembered how nervous she was when someone saw them 
naked, and could guess what Claire was feeling now as she rolled her vest 
upwards, pulling it off her head.

"Aren't they just lovely!" her father murmured, his hand sliding down to 
adjust his trousers.

Annabelle turned towards the mother and watched as she looked intently at 
her daughter.

"We should have them injected," she said sharply.

"I like them as they are," Dennis admitted.

"Well! If they don't start growing soon, I'm going to inject them 
myself!" Sarah vowed.

The argument between her parents was soon forgotten as the child stepped 
out of her skirt to reveal a pair of tightly fitting white panties and 
white socks that were pulled up to her knees.

"Have you seen many girls undress?" Dennis asked casually, only glancing 
for a moment at Annabelle lest he might miss something that his daughter 
might do.

"No! Well, perhaps at school," Annabelle murmured, blushing brightly with 
her innocence. Even then she'd not seen many naked, preferring to keep 
herself to herself rather that to look at others and be ridiculed for it.

"Any as pretty as our Claire?" he asked, his eyes glued to his daughter 
as she coyly eased her panties off, her expression hidden by her lowered 
face as the smooth rise of her pubis came into to view.

Annabelle shook her head, as a sprinkling of curls appeared, then the 
smooth cleft of the girl's cunt. Her labia had ripened with colour, their 
roundness squashed between her flexing thighs. Her panties fell to her 
feet where she stepped from them and then immediately closed her thighs.

"Now, now, Claire, don't be so coy," her mother called, an unspoken 
threat in her voice.

"Mummy, please," Claire mumbled timidly.

"Come here!" Sarah spat, straightening on the settee.

Annabelle swallowed nervously, and looked at the stern-faced woman as she 
sat erect, waiting for Claire to join her. Impatient with the delay, 
Sarah pulled Claire over and slapped her thighs until she opened them.

It was then that Annabelle saw the marks across the girl's bottom and 
thighs and remembered that it was only a couple of days ago that Miss 
Appleby had given her one of her special riding lessons.

Even without her mother's hand sliding between her thighs to reappear 
gleaming, Annabelle could see the child's excitement as it practically 
dripped from her now exposed labia.

"You can't wait to have your ride, can you?" her mother crooned, her 
fingers slapping the apex of the child's cunt.

"Mummy, please," Claire sobbed, jerking uncontrollably as her mother's 
fingers brought new colour to her tender vulva.

Annabelle watched spellbound as even more gleaming wetness flowed down 
Claire's twisting thighs, highlighting her smooth skin with a wet gleam.

"Nothing quite like having a ride when you are tender and wet," Sarah 
told her squirming daughter, fighting to keep her close enough to slap. 
She stopped and examined her fingers, showing her distain while Claire 
quietly wept and hugged her tender cunt.

Annabelle licked her lips and shook, her thoughts now centred on 
spreading the girl's lovely thighs to fondle and caress the narrow lipped 
cunt that so freely wept. She'd never had such thoughts before, nor felt 
them so strongly.

The woman turned towards her, a long and elegant finger extended, 
gleaming with thick wetness.

"Would you like to taste it?" she was asked. The finger approached, not 
giving her a choice, and Annabelle opened her mouth to receive it, coyly 
licking the sweet wetness while forced to stare into the woman's eyes.

"Tart!" Sarah said, laughing at her own joke.

Dennis chuckled as he readjusted his trousers, making no secret of his 
erection that was now stretching the front of his trousers.

"It's time for your ride," he called excitedly.

Annabelle squeezed her thighs together as she thought of mounting the 
modified saddle, of sliding down onto the seam, the smooth leather not 
letting her grip it with her knees or thighs.

"What about the harness?" Annabelle said, remembering the one that Miss 
Appleby showed her.

"Oh! That's Miss Appleby's idea. She insists that all her pupils wear 
them so that she has something to grab hold of if they can't control 
themselves and are likely to fall off, but Claire doesn't need one, do 
you my darling?" she asked.

"No!" she answered nervously.

Claire approached the horse, her lovely bottom cheeks swivelling together 
with each step she made, awakening thoughts in Annabelle she had never 
entertained before.

The saddle stood waiting and Claire gripped the pommel and breathed 
deeply, not looking at her family as she placed her foot in the stirrup. 
She mounted with a leap swinging her other leg behind her and over, 
making it look easy Annabelle thought.

Settling down, Claire's nervousness soon turned to something else. 
Watching her, Annabelle tried to analyse the look on the little girl's 
face as she felt the weight of her body transferred to her tender cunt 
and anus on the ridged seam.

Shock, surprise, perhaps pain. Definitely anguish, yet there was also 
pleasure, augmented by the little whimpering sounds Claire made as she 
slid forward, into the lowest part of the saddle. She hung there, her 
toes only just touching the stirrups, her labia pushed out by the ridged 
seam that had ridden up into her cunt.

"How does it feel darling?" her father asked eagerly, moving to the edge 
of the settee and clutching at himself through his trousers.

"It hurts!" Claire complained, struggling breathlessly to find some way 
to sit that was least painful to her.

"Of course it does! How many times have I got to tell you girl; pleasure 
only comes with pain," her mother told her.

"Mummy, please," Claire sobbed.

"Now ride!" her mother ordered.

Annabelle watched, spellbound, as Claire sobbed and clutched more tightly 
at the pommel before drawing her bottom back, then forward again along 
the raised ridge of the saddle. Her labia were pulled along the leather 
whilst the narrow ridged seam rubbed against her little cunt and anus 
painfully.

Beginning to cry, Claire moved slightly back and forward again, clearly 
in pain.

"The poor girl is in agony," Annabelle gasped, swallowing and wondering 
why that should make her so wet and excited.

"Yes! She'll come soon. If you wish to help her, go and stand closer. She 
comes quicker when being watched," Sarah explained.

Annabelle swallowed, not sure she could stand with her excitement. But 
she made the effort and stepped towards the sobbing girl, licking her 
lips as she saw the rolled lips of Claire's cunt in more detail, pushed 
aside by the raised seam and squashed between the leather and her own 
thighs.

Claire looked at Annabelle, her expression unreadable, and continued to 
force her bottom back and forth.

"Look at the seam," Dennis urged.

Annabelle glanced at him and quickly looked away, her face suddenly 
burning with the after-image of him stroking his exposed erection, 
foreskin drawn back from a tapered end that gleamed with wetness.

Breathless, she did as she'd been told, looking to the hard leather ridge 
upon which the weeping girl rode, and there caught her breath once more. 
Wide eyed she stared at the wetness Claire was leaving on the leather, 
darkening and staining it with her pleasure juice.

Annabelle looked up to stare at Claire's anguished face, her eyes 
inadvertently noticing the swollen tips of her small pubescent breasts 
and the flush of her skin as they passed them. Now she saw the look of 
pleasure on the girl's face, how the pain was exciting her, forcing her 
to grind her crotch again and again upon the seam as she searched for an 
orgasm.

"Please, help me!" Claire groaned. "Please!" she whimpered, once again 
dragging her crotch along the unforgiving seam.

"How?" Annabelle asked, her breath shortening.

"Behind you, on the table," her mother called.

The horse whip lay there, just three feet long and as thin as a pencil at 
the handle, tapering to just the width of a cord at its end. Those who 
knew of it called it the 'stinger' and would squirm uncontrollably as it 
flicked across their bottoms and thighs, leaving slender red marks where 
the tip had landed.

Annabelle raised it, feeling it bend slightly with its own weight.

"Flick it hard across her bottom!" Dennis called excitedly.

Hardly able to breath, Annabelle turned to the panting, sobbing, 
whimpering girl and measured the distance.

"Hurry! Please!" Claire cried.

Just a flick of her wrist, and the flexible whip sprung back and forth, 
grazing Claire's pert little bottom. The girl yelped and jerked forward, 
squealing with the surge of sensation rising through her tortured cunt.

"Again! Again!" her parents called out.

As if in a dream, Annabelle flicked the whip again, flicking the tip back 
and forth across Claire's bottom with an increasing vigour and watched as 
the girl squirmed uncontrollably. The girl flung herself upwards as her 
orgasm finally erupted and her thighs parted for the first time lifting 
her up off the saddle and exposing the darkened wet leather.

Annabelle stopped, her own body shaking with the tight explosion of 
pleasure she felt. A groan made her turn and this time she didn't turn 
away, but watched as   sperm flowed from her father's cock and into his 
fist.

She couldn't help but think that if Claire could have an orgasm so soon, 
then she pitied Jane Ledger whom she remembered had an hour's riding 
lesson booked with Miss Appleby.

"You may go now!" Sarah told Annabelle, standing and smiling at her for a 
moment before moving towards the bedroom.

"Thank you," Annabelle replied.

"Come Claire! You still have work to do," she called.

Annabelle watched the girl dismount the wooden horse and hurry after her 
mother, fresh blushes sweeping across her face as she saw Annabelle 
watching her.

The bedroom door left ajar, Annabelle wasn't in the slightest bit 
surprised to see her mother frantically undressing and only wished that 
she had been able to join them.

Annabelle was on reception duties the following morning when Mr Selby 
found her.

"You did very well with the Jennings's yesterday," he remarked.

Annabelle blushed; remembering wielding the whip and her spontaneous 
orgasm as she'd watched it caused Claire to come. She remembered the 
naked girl following her mother into the bedroom, and the long time she'd 
spent in bed, knowing the family were just beneath her, wondering what 
the domineering mother would have wanted of the young girl.

Mrs Jennings says she wants to buy you something in return for your 
services," he told her.

"Really, I didn't do that much," Annabelle blushed.

Mr Selby smiled and sipped his drink. "Often, you don't have to do much 
for our guests, just be there for them," he said. "So! I want you to go 
shopping with Mrs Jennings later this morning. I'm sure she'll find 
something nice for you," he told her.

******

Annabelle thought that Sarah Jennings looked particularly lovely as she 
met her and her daughter in the foyer. Claire was wearing drab clothes 
that hung on her with little style, whereas her mother wore a lovely 
dress that accentuated her small waist and proud bust whilst not 
detracting from the fine features of her face, nor her naturally wavy 
hair.

Annabelle felt for the child as she saw them step out of the lift, the 
mother a foot in the lead as she walked across the foyer, totally in 
command of herself.  Men stopped to look at her, the more elderly tipping 
their hats to her, but all were ignored, as if not even there.

She stepped out to meet them and felt a flood of excitement pour through 
her as Sarah noticed her and smiled. It suddenly occurred to her that she 
would do anything to obtain the woman's approval and have her smile at 
her like that all the time. She blushed, amazed at her body's response 
and dipped her head as she'd often seen Claire do.

"Ready for our little shopping spree?" Annabelle was asked as Sarah came 
to a stop in front of her.

"Oh yes," Annabelle grinned, watching the lady slide her hands into 
little white gloves and admiring how slender and long each of her fingers 
were.

"Then let us begin!" Sarah grinned, and led them out to where a black cab 
was already waiting.

The ride was short and Claire and her mother sat beside each other on the 
seat while Annabelle took the fold-down seat behind the driver. She 
didn't mind; it meant facing Mrs Jennings and being able to look at her, 
drinking in her beauty.

At some point during the short ride the lady crossed her legs and 
Annabelle was captivated by the slide of leg against leg and the dark 
glimpse under her dress that was full of mystery and femininity.

Sarah smiled and Annabelle blushed, wondering if she knew of the secret 
thoughts she'd begun to have about her.

They cab stopped, and Annabelle recognised Meredith's leatherwear shop 
she had visited just a few days ago, and yet it seemed so long ago. 
Feeling like a child again, Annabelle waited beside Claire as her mother 
paid the driver, and then followed them into the shop.

"Mrs Jennings!" beamed John from behind his counter. He came rushing 
round to take her hand and gently kissed it, then peered through his 
little glasses at the girls. "I recognise these pretty young ladies!" he 
smiled, taking hold of their hands and gently squeezed them.

"So, what can I do for you?" he asked, hurrying to the door and dropping 
the latch, then turning the sign to closed.

"I was hoping that you're finished that suit you are making for me, and I 
have offered to buy Annabelle here a present for being so good to us. 
Perhaps you have something appropriate for her?" she asked.

"The suit is not quiet finished yet, but we can check the fit while you 
are here," he told her, then cast his attention on Annabelle, his eyes 
making her blush as she recalled the way his hand had closed on her 
breast.

"Annabelle is such an exceptional young lady, is she not? Untutored, and 
yet so responsive," he murmured, his murmured words together with his 
calculating eyes making Annabelle's heart beat faster.

"I'm already making her a little bustier, something to draw attention to 
her lovely breasts. Perhaps a pair of shorts might be appropriate?" he 
suggested.

Sarah smiled and nodded. "That will be perfect," she assured him, her 
smile turning towards Annabelle who nervously licked her lips.
"And for the little girl?" John asked.

Sarah looked at Claire and considered her for a while; her strong gaze 
making the child blush and lower her eyes. "I think she is ready for a 
pair of those special panties you make, you know the ones with the 
textured gussets," she said, smiling without humour.

"An excellent choice!" he told her, hurrying to the back of the store to 
return with some. While he offered one pair to Mrs Jennings for her 
approval, Annabelle picked up one of the others and looked at the broad 
gusset, her breath leaving her as she saw the small ridges that ran along 
the inside.

Annabelle imagined the irritation it would bring, then recalled Claire 
astride the saddle, soaking it with her pleasure juices as the seam cut 
into her little cunt, and thought how appropriate they would be for her.

"Come along!" Sarah ordered Annabelle leading her into the fitting room, 
leaving her to hurriedly follow, her face burning with the thoughts of 
what was to come.

"Now! Both of you stand against the wall," Sarah ordered, pointing to 
where she wanted them while she walked into the middle of the fitting 
room and looked at her multiple reflections.

"Would you like them to be masked, Madam?" John asked bringing out the 
garment he had been making for her.

Sarah looked at the girls as her hands started to undo her bodice.

"No," she replied. "Let's see what the new girl thinks of it," she said, 
smiling coldly as she looked towards Annabelle, who was standing 
obediently beside her daughter.

John nodded and carefully put the new garment down, then calmly waited 
for Mrs Jennings to undress, taking each of her clothes as she offered 
them so he could arrange them so they wouldn't crease. The man seemed 
oblivious to the woman's nakedness, Annabelle thought, as she watched 
from the side of the fitting room and feeling ever weaker, the more she 
bared herself.

She hadn't thought a woman could look so beautiful, not just on body and 
looks, but in the way she held herself, in the way she seemed oblivious 
to them as she removed her clothes. Smoothly curved limbs appeared, the 
skin uniformly tanned.

Her broad shoulders supported large conical breasts that didn't need the 
support of the Basque she'd been wearing. Her legs were perfectly 
proportioned, her skin amazingly smooth, and when she took of her silken 
French knickers, she revealed a sex as hairless as her legs, labia 
clearly defined.

Mrs Jennings ignored the girls, standing on the podium and stretching her 
arms upwards, enjoying the freedom of being unclothed whilst admiring her 
figure in the mirrors multiple reflections. John waited with her outfit 
and she ignored him too, sliding her hands down her flanks, then turning 
towards Annabelle to smile into her adoring eyes.

"Do you like the way I look Annabelle?" she asked, her fingers sliding 
upwards, either side of her smooth and proud vulva to come to rest under 
her breasts, as if offering the ovals for her to suck.

Annabelle blushed and nodded, wanting nothing more than be allowed to 
help her dress or undress. The woman's perfume alone made her quiver, 
wanting to go to the source and bury her face in her underwear.

Sarah laughed and turned to show Annabelle her bottom, a wonderfully full 
and proud bottom.

"What about this?" she asked.

Annabelle wasn't sure what to say, other than she loved how smooth and 
round the woman's bottom was, how the crease of their meeting teased her, 
hiding the flesh Annabelle would dearly love to see.

"Well!" Sarah asked, a teasing note to her voice as her fingers pulled at 
full cheeks, partially parting the globes and leaving poor Annabelle 
breathless.

Annabelle nodded eagerly and stared longingly into the woman's eyes.

Her laughter had hurt her, but not enough to stop loving the woman, 
watching almost breathlessly as the leather garment was drawn up her legs 
and along her arms, clips fastened, buckles tightened and zips closed. 
When finished, Sarah stood like a goddess before them, a bodysuit of 
leather emphasizing her proud breasts, narrow waist and her lovely full 
bottom.

Sarah turned this way and that, admiring the workmanship in the fine 
details of the garment and what it did for her figure.

"There are a few more straps to add, here and here," Mr Meredith 
explained.

Sarah understood and nodded. It would pull at the leather of her bust, 
forcing her nipples into the holes that she could release with just a 
clip. In the mean time, the clips stood on her bust like gleaming nipples 
themselves.

Without thought to those who watched, the woman reached down and ran her 
fingers along the removable crotch, stroking herself through the leather 
and smiling at the rise of sensation it caused in her.

"Claire!" she called.

Annabelle stared, her eyes never wider as Claire meekly hurried to her 
mother, waiting patiently for the woman to get down from the podium 
before she knelt in front of her. Sarah smiled towards Annabelle, sending 
the innocent young girl a message as she slowly undid the zip that held 
her gusset pressed to her and let it flop away.

Annabelle's breath quickened as the thick and smooth labia appeared, 
luscious inner meat holding them apart like a succulent tongue held 
teasingly between gleaming lips.

Slowly and elegantly Sarah sat on the edge of the podium and parted her 
thighs, smiling into Annabelle's flushed face as she allowed her cunt to 
spread, the hood of her clitoris rising as her pleasure swelled.

"Come here girl!" she ordered, but the command was not for Annabelle, but 
for her daughter.

The young girl, so unlike her mother, got onto her hands and knees to 
crawl forward, moving between her mother's thighs to nuzzle her face into 
the full lipped cunt offered to her.

Sarah sighed and put a hand around her child's head, forcing it more 
fully against her vulva.

"Now lick!" she ordered.

Annabelle quivered under the woman's stare; her breath was shortened by 
her imagination. What would it feel like and how would it taste, she 
wondered?

Claire's head bobbed up and down as she traversed the whole of her 
mother's cunt, licking it of her flavour then probing for fresh as far as 
her tongue would reach.

Her mother grinned and breathed deeply, sometimes jerking slightly, her 
legs rising slightly, onto her toes.

"She's learnt well," Sarah, told Annabelle, her nostrils starting to 
flare as the girl flicked her tongue expertly across the tip of her 
swollen love button.

Her hand pushed her daughter's mouth downward and she purred as Claire's 
tongue wriggled artfully into her moist cunt, her lips clamping around 
her wet flesh to suck on her.

"Would you like to join her?" Mrs Jennings asked sweetly. Annabelle 
licked her lips and nodded, wanting desperately to bask in the love of 
this woman.

Sarah laughed and pushed her daughter away, quickly reaching down to draw 
the gusset over her wet and open crotch and pulling it taut before being 
able to zip it back into place.

"Firstly! You must prove yourself," she told her, watching her for a few 
moments more before turning to Claire and ordering her to undress. As 
always, Claire was quick to obey, not even hesitating for a moment before 
taking off her frock, and then her plain white vest and panties.

Her mother sighed, wishing that Claire would be rebellious sometimes, 
enough at least to warrant being punished. She did punish her, whenever 
the mood took her, but it would be much more exciting she thought, if she 
could do it whilst she was feeling angry with the child.

John had the appropriate sized panties ready for her, and Claire stepped 
into them, blushing brightly as the old man was allowed to pull them up 
her thighs and tug them up tightly, and almost at once she felt the 
ridges in the gusset pressing up against her hyper sensitive crotch.

"Walk around!" her mother ordered.

Claire obeyed, stopping to bend double when her stride caused the gusset 
to bite into her vulva, twisting lip from lip and sending a chard of 
intense sensations sweeping through her. She tried to press it tightly to 
herself as she moved, but the sensation was the same, pleasure bordering 
on pain, it was that harsh and that intense.

"I bet you're wetting yourself," Sarah laughed, watching Claire pant and 
gasp, holding her crotch as the agony swept through her. "Pull them down, 
I want to see," she ordered.

With a sob, Claire peeled the tight black leather panties down, and 
parted her thighs as far as they'd allow once down her thighs and, like 
everyone else in the room, looked down at her gleaming little cunt, 
sodden with the juice her intense excitement had caused.

She touched herself lightly and wet her finger in the thick coating of 
slippery wetness that coated her, still more leaking from her pussy 
mouth, sliding slowly down her inner thighs to tickle the light blond 
hairs on her skin.

Annabelle wanted to grip herself as she saw Sarah pull her daughter's 
hand from her crotch and replace it with her own. The woman crooned as 
she pleasured her daughter, pulling and pinching her swollen and glowing 
labia, forcing the girl to gasp and jerk, to stand on her toes as two 
fingers sought to push their way into her under-developed form.

Annabelle panted, wetting herself with the thought of taking Claire's 
place.

She jerked and swallowed, sensations ripping through her body as she saw 
Mrs Jennings looking at her, pleasuring her daughter but looking directly 
at her.

"Undress!" Mrs Jennings instructed Annabelle.

Without hesitation, and without a thought for the constraints she'd been 
raised and brought up under, Annabelle obeyed the woman, quickly sliding 
from her outer clothes to then halt for a moment, breathlessly hoping the 
woman would remark on her sheer underwear. When nothing was said, she 
blushed all the brighter and slid from her camisole and panties.

"Turn!" Sarah ordered.

Annabelle shuffled round, burning as she exposed her compact bottom to 
the older woman, then turned back to burn all the brighter as she saw 
John had now crept up and now knelt in front of her, a pair of leather 
shorts held out for her to step into. The shorts easily slid up her 
thighs to fit loosely about her hips.

Once in place though, John drew up zips fitted to their flanks and the 
shorts tightened to her. There was one more adjustment made in the small 
of her back, a pull she didn't understand until she felt the seam 
constrict and press into her.

Wide eyed, Annabelle stared at her reflection, gulping at the very sight 
of the leather shorts and how they formed themselves to her lower body. 
The lips of her young cunt were now clearly defined and, looking over her 
shoulder, she saw the cheeks of her bottom were similarly on show, the 
leather cutting deep into her anal crease, outlining each cheek.

She tensed, as the leather clung to her, showing off her lovely young 
bottom.

"They just about fit madam. I could make them tighter," John said.

"No! They will do just fine. Wrap them up discreetly," Mrs Jennings 
requested.

Annabelle swallowed and blushed, wondering just exactly what this woman 
had in mind. Dirty thoughts came flooding into her mind making her clutch 
at herself, the feel of the ridges against her cunt sending her 
spiralling into an orgasm, right in front of everyone.

******

Annabelle smiled at Mrs Davies and her son as they left the hotel. The 
boy had stood behind his mother, blushing hotly throughout the ten 
minutes it had taken for them to check out, and Mrs Davies had left a 
little something, a five-pound note to thank her for all her help with 
Daniel.

Pocketing the note from Mrs Davies for her services with Daniel made her 
think of the new addition to her wardrobe that Mrs Jennings had bought in 
return for her services with Claire; the shorts.

She had put them on in the privacy of her bedroom, opening the wardrobe 
door so she could undress and admire herself in the mirror. Had her 
breasts grown she wondered, cupping and squeezing them, to awaken her 
nipples so she could watch them sprout, swell and darken with her 
arousal.

Jane had shown her her own breasts, giggling as she had pulled at the 
rings in her nipples, pulling her breasts outwards, and distorting them 
until it looked painful. Now, as Annabelle rubbed the tips of her 
nipples, she wondered whether to try just one ring to begin with. 
Spreading her thighs she looked ay herself in the mirror and caressed the 
outside of her slender labia.

A quick stroking of her fingers to quicken her pulse, then she stepped 
into the loose shorts and drew them up her thighs, her breath quickening 
still more as she readied herself for the fitting. She drew the zips 
slowly upwards, feeling the leather tighten to her thighs and hips, 
pressing on her pubis and her lower belly.

Then she was reaching behind her, gripping the cords with both hands and 
staring at her reflection. As she pulled on the cords that were sewn into 
the seams of the leather shorts, so she saw as well as felt the material 
tightening across her crotch and up, between the cheeks of her bottom.

Slowly, teasingly, the leather drew into the crease of her cunt, drawing 
the soft leather into a second skin that held and caressed her, sending 
delightful tremors up her body in anticipation of what she'd feel once 
she started to move.

The cords could not be drawn any further. Breathless, Annabelle stared at 
how the leather outlined her labia, her thighs, her pubis and lower 
abdomen. Almost in awe she reached round to feel her leather encased 
vulva, licking her lips as the pressure passed through to flow through 
her.

She turned and caressed her bottom, amazed by how perfectly she was 
displayed. She bent forward and looked back, between her thighs, her 
fingers tracing the shape of her cunt, feeling it flower as it felt the 
soft, enquiring touches.

For a few long minutes she caressed herself, watching herself in the 
mirror and feeling the heat in her cunt grow and grow. She moved 
occasionally, pretending to walk, pretending to jog, both sending a blaze 
of excitement swirling through her.

Then finally, unable to stand it any longer, she pulled the shorts down 
and lay back to bring on her crisis with her fingers.

Mr Selby came into reception and Annabelle quickly brought her attention 
back to the present, quelling the warm tingle that had grown in her cunt 
as she recalled how often she'd needed to masturbate before being able to 
finally get to sleep, sated if a little sore.

"You've been with us for nearly a week," he said, as much a statement as 
a query as he had her follow him towards his office.

"I hope I'm doing all right," she asked nervously.

There were periods in the day when she wasn't requested to do anything, 
and she still wasn't sure how much time she should be spending with the 
guests.

"You appear to be doing very well," he told her, an assurance made more 
genuine by a brief smile. "So much so, that I want to bring forward one 
of my standard assessments for this job," he told her. Annabelle 
swallowed, wondering just what such a test might entail, and let herself 
be led by Mr Selby into his office.

As the door closed, she saw two lovely children, a boy who looked about 
twelve and a girl who couldn't have been more than eight playing with 
some pieces of Lego on the carpet.

"I've borrowed them from a friend," he explained, as he walked past her 
to sit at his desk and bring out a piece of paper. "I want you to play 
with them," he told her.

Annabelle smiled and knelt down between them, introducing herself and 
finding out they were called David and Jennifer and they were adopted but 
not related.

"Can I play with your Lego?" she asked.

They shrugged and looked at each other.

"If you want," they told her.

Adjusting her uniform and conscious of Mr Selby watching her, Annabelle 
settled down between them and began putting the bricks together, building 
the shape of a house while chatting softly to them, and helping to draw 
the quite children into talking.

There was near silence at first, her questions being answered only with 
nods or shakes of the head. Then slowly they began to talk, the girl 
first, then the boy. After about ten minutes or so, Mr Selby cleared his 
throat to catch her attention.

"You do appreciate what I meant when I said 'play with them' don't you 
Miss Hopkins?" he asked softly.

Annabelle swallowed, realising what the test was. She looked at them and 
bit her lip, wondering what to do. Sensing the tension in the air they 
had stopped their playing to look up at her, and it was the little girl 
who broke the tension and made Annabelle's decision for her.

Smiling shyly, the girl, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, drew the 
canopy of her skirt up to her waist and looked trustingly at Annabelle 
while exposing her little white panties to her.

Annabelle let her held breath out of her, staring at the panties that 
hugged the puffy round vulva nestling between the girls's spread thighs. 
It sagged from the girlish crotch, baring skin so infinitely smooth; 
Annabelle could hardly believe it was real. She reached out to stroke the 
girl's hair, smiling into the child's large eyes before ordering her to 
stand and remove all her clothes.

Her tight chest eased a little as the girl obeyed. The boy stopped 
playing with the Lego bricks to watch, sometimes glancing towards 
Annabelle, as if afraid to miss any softly given instruction.

Annabelle smiled at David and ruffled his hair while she waited for 
Jennifer to finish undressing.

Jennifer didn't seem upset at having to do so; she wasn't crying, not did 
she look nervous. So Annabelle smiled at her when she'd finished 
undressing and, reaching for her, drew her into an embrace, the child 
standing up against her while, seated on the carpet, she stroked down her 
back before finally cupping the cheeks of her lovely little bottom.

"What a pretty little girl you are!" she told her.

Holding her away from her, Annabelle stroked her chest and belly, amazed 
by how firm and smooth her skin was. Her fingers drifted to her little 
pubic mound and traced the bulb of flesh, smiling as the little girl 
began to pant, a look of excitement on her pretty face.

"Is that nice?" Annabelle asked.

Jennifer licked her lips and nodded, looking up at her with a worshipful 
look.

"Open your thighs! Let Aunty Annabelle make you feel really nice," she 
grinned.

David stared, his face flushed with excitement, so Annabelle told him to 
undress too, as she used a butterfly touch to run between Jennifer's 
thighs, and follow the smooth little slit to tickle the moist hollow in 
which her pussy mouth lay.

Annabelle watched David undress with growing excitement whilst her little 
finger teased Jennifer's little cunt, smiling as she forced the girl to 
loudly gasp and rise up on her toes, squirming on her finger.

David finally shed his underpants, blushing as he bared his cock made 
hard with the things he was looking at. It stood erect, a pink wand of 
smooth, stretched flesh, so marvellously feminine that Annabelle wanted 
to hold and kiss it.

"Look at his naughty cock!" she told the girl, her fingertip slippery now 
with the slow moistening of her little cunt.

Jennifer looked at it and nodded, still squirming on Annabelle's 
fingertip as it gently eased her apart and pushed gently inwards.

"Play with her bottom now!" Mr Selby whispered, his voice reminding her 
of his presence.

Annabelle gulped and looked into the pretty girl's face as she eased her 
finger from the impossibly tight little cuntal entrance, to her dry 
wrinkled anus. She pushed gently, experimentally, and gasped as the 
sphincter gave way, allowing her finger half an inch entry.

Jennifer grunted and leant forward, her eyes turning to her adopted 
brother's hardening cock, watching him stroke it while Annabelle slowly 
slid her finger all the way into her anus.

"Is that nice?" Annabelle asked, stroking the girl's colon from within.

Jennifer tossed her hair back, then nodded.

"You can do it faster if you want," she urged.

Annabelle placed her free hand on the lovely bottom next to her face and 
eased one of the tight cheeks apart, her chest tightening excitedly as 
she gazed in on the little pink anal ring, distorted outward by her 
finger.

She eased her finger out slowly, marvelling at how the girl's anal ring 
acted like a flange about her finger and then, with only her fingertip 
still inside the little girl's bottom, she thrust it back in again.

Jennifer sobbed, but pleasurably, as Annabelle thrust her finger deeper 
into the child's bottom, then swivelled it, feeling her smooth anus shut 
tightly around the base of her finger.

David soon came over to look, stroking his now rampant cock whilst he 
watched avidly as Annabelle's finger travelling smoothly in and out of 
his adopted sister's anus.

"Do you like having your anus played with too?" Annabelle asked, panting 
with the excitement burning within her.

She released the bottom cheek she had been holding to reach for him, 
groaning as she felt how hot and stiff his cock was. He jerked his loins 
forward and let her stroke his bottom, his expression unreadable as he 
continued to watch her finger fuck his sister's little bottom.

"I bet you do," she urged.

He still made no response, just standing there, letting her stroke his 
bottom.

"Let me see," she told him, taking her fingers from his handsome bottom 
to urge him to turn around and bend over.

David did as he was told, facing the man behind the desk to bend over and 
reach back the way he'd been taught. Gripping the cheeks of his bottom as 
close to the crease as he could, he spread them wide apart and then 
waited for her inevitable touch.

Annabelle swallowed, eyeing his dark amber anal ring and watching it 
flex. Then she reached out, feeling it with her fingers before sliding 
her hand between his thighs to grab hold of his cock and balls.

"Can I touch you, Miss?" Jennifer asked sweetly.

Annabelle swallowed and nodded, a sharp sensation shooting through her at 
the thought of having the children touch her. Jennifer grinned with 
excitement and slid smoothly off of Annabelle's finger to kneel at her 
side and, without any prelude, slide her hand under her uniform.

With a gasp, Annabelle felt the little hand slip under her uniform and 
along her thigh, stroking as it slid higher and higher. The child 
laughed, her face bright as she urged Annabelle to slide her thighs 
further apart.

Then, suddenly, the child was caressing her crotch and tiny fingers were 
sliding along the thin gusset of her panties, knowingly pressing upon 
them and grinning as she made Annabelle gasp.

"Do you want to suck my brother's cock, Miss?" Jennifer asked.

A little shocked that the child should ask such a thing she whimpered, 
her mind full of the inquisitive fingers between her thighs, and the riot 
of sensations shooting through her. Mr Selby watched, his face showing no 
expression as the young boy approached Annabelle grinning playfully and 
holding his rampant cock out in anticipation.

Jennifer's hand left Annabelle's crotch, but only to push her skirt up 
higher, and to let her spread her thighs further apart. Then the girl 
shuffled forward, kneeling between Annabelle's raised knees to use both 
hands, pulling her sodden gusset aside to then giggle as she unfurled her 
wet cunt.

Annabelle gasped, fresh arrows of pleasure shooting through her belly, 
and the boy was right at her side, his cock held out to her. With a sob 
Annabelle closed her lips over it and for a moment just shook with the 
knowledge of what she was doing. Then her tongue set to work, licking the 
stiff shaft and sobbing as the rich and tangy flavour filled her mouth.

Jennifer's fingers roughly masturbated her, the child completely unaware 
of the fierce sensations she was causing by roughly sliding her fingers 
back and forth over her clitoris, forcing two fingers beside each other 
and into the mouth of Annabelle's cunt to then turn them, giggling as she 
sobbed loudly around the boy's cock.

The flavour gone from his shaft, Annabelle probed with her tongue and 
drew his foreskin back, sobbing as a fresh wave of strong flavour filled 
her mouth. The taste made her think of him peeing. Once again, Annabelle 
felt the rush of her orgasm and shook through its waves of pleasure 
before slipping her mouth from his cock.

The children had left satisfied, both kissing her lovingly, and Annabelle 
now sat in front of Mr Selby, worried about what he would think of the 
things she had done.

"Your mother thinks you are a virgin. Is that true?" he asked.

Annabelle licked her lips and nodded, her face burning brightly.

"Would that include your mouth?" he asked. "Tell me! Have you ever sucked 
on a cock, other than the boy just now?" he asked her.

Annabelle burnt and shook her head.

"Looking for the right man, or just lack of opportunity?" he asked, 
looking at her intently.

"A lack of opportunity I suppose," she admitted at last while her ears 
roared.

Annabelle blushed brightly and squirmed under his fixed gaze, her mind in 
a complete turmoil.

"I will be able to stay, won't I?" she begged.

"Well! Lets see now Mrs Davies was very impressed with your handling of 
Daniel, and Mrs Jennings certainly finds you of value to her," he said, 
looking at his report sheet.

Annabelle blushed, trembling slightly in her longing to meet with the 
lady once more.

Mr Selby rose and walked round his desk, his face set in serious lines.

"However! There is one more thing I need to assess you on," he explained, 
coming to stand beside her.

She wondered what more she would need to do, then gasped, her eyes 
widening as the stern man lowered his zipper and fished inside for his 
cock. Breathless with shock, Annabelle watched his cock appear, semi-hard 
but already quite thick, the circumcised head bloated and glowing.

"No complaints now Miss Hopkins," he ordered, a hand offering her his 
large cock while the other went into her hair and, gripping it, then 
turning her head to a more accommodating angle.

Wide-eyed, staring into his face, Annabelle felt the warm cock placed on 
her lips and drawn slowly across it.

"Open!" he urged, his member beginning to swell.

Staring into his eyes, Annabelle obeyed and parted her lips. The cock 
head pressed harder on her bottom lip and slid under the top. The 
swelling knob throbbed in her mouth, its flavour making her salivate.

He thrust, powering into her mouth and her tongue felt the slide of the 
manly shaft sliding across it, gnarled with veins and swelling with 
excitement. His hand held her from jerking back, forcing her to take the 
full-flavoured shaft in her mouth, filling it with hard manhood.

Annabelle swallowed the rich tangy flavour as soon as he drew back, a 
part of her conscious of how different an adult tasted to that of a boy, 
then the cock was sliding back into her mouth, bending partially in her 
mouth as wiry pubes grazed her nose.

She gripped his legs as his hand drew her head partially back and forth, 
his hips countering the move, thrusting between her lips, the head 
seeking to enter her gullet. Back and forth, ignoring her chocking 
sounds, the panting manager thrust more and more forcibly into her mouth, 
on and on until his crisis burst upon him and his cock stopped its 
thrusting to jerk instead, spewing hot salty seed into her mouth.

Wild eyed, Annabelle swallowed the sticky substance, swallowing around 
the cock as it kept spurting, on and on until done, when it began to 
soften and shrink.

Mr Selby took his deflated cock from her mouth, wiping the drool from the 
tip along her lips and then smiling as she licked it off and swallowed.

"Yes! They were quite right about you," he sighed. "Most accommodating," 
he chuckled.

******

It was proving to be a very dull afternoon and Annabelle was feeling left 
out and miserable. Some of the guests had left that morning and the 
generous tips they left her were little compensation for their absence.

Sarah and Claire had gone off somewhere for the day and Miss Sharp had 
left the day before. She helped in reception, adding up the daily 
receipts and helping guests when she could, but none wanted any more than 
perhaps to find out where the shops were or to learn how to operate the 
antiquated shower system in their rooms.

Even Mr Selby seemed preoccupied, passing her without a nod without an 
outward sign that only the day before he had stood over her with his cock 
out and had slid it between her lips, using her until he spurted 
powerfully into her mouth.

Annabelle licked her lips, remembering the flavour and the feel of it 
sliding back and forth. The strong thrusts that had frightened her the 
previous day, often making her gag for breath, now excited her with their 
memory.

Finally a guest waved for her attention, a plain woman whose young 
daughter sat by her side looking in awe at her surroundings. Annabelle 
walked over, smiling pleasantly as her long strides took her smoothly to 
the woman's side.

"Can I help you, Madam?" she asked.

"You must be Annabelle Hopkins, the person Mr Selby told us would help 
us," the woman told her, glancing at her name badge. "My name is Rachel 
Hart and this is my daughter Sophia," she explained.

Annabelle smiled at the little girl who looked about ten, and watched as 
she blushed slightly, a lovely pink rising in her cheeks whilst her eyes 
darted timidly downward.

"How can I be of help?" Annabelle asked.

"Well! It's Sophia," Rachel said, nodding towards her young daughter who 
blushed even more brightly and timidly hung her head. "She's such a 
naughty little girl, always needing to be spanked," she told Annabelle, 
grinning mischievously as she told her.

"I see!" Annabelle replied.

"You see! I fear that her bottom and thighs are getting used to our 
hand," she chuckled.

"Mummy!" Sophia complained, her face fiercely hot.

"So! I'd like to find a suitable leather implement, something that will 
make the right impression, if you know what I mean," she grinned.

"Certainly," Annabelle nodded. "You should visit Appleby's," she told the 
woman.

"Where's that?" Rachel asked.

"Oh! It's not far. I have a map behind the counter," Annabelle explained.

"Oh, that's good of you, only I'm terrible with maps. You couldn't come 
with us could you, only I'm sure you'll be able to help once we're 
there," Rachel told her, her eyes twinkling excitedly while poor little 
Sophia pressed her knuckles to her teeth and listened nervously.

Annabelle smiled and nodded.

"Of course I'll come and help," Annabelle said, and hurried off to let 
the desk know and to telephone Miss Appleby to inform her of their 
impending visit before rejoining the woman and her daughter in the foyer.

The walk was uneventful, Sophia dawdling and looking in the shop windows 
and then having to run to catch up, her jean clad figure so common to so 
many ten year olds. While she raced backwards and forwards, Rachel 
explained all about the punishment regime that she and her husband had 
devised for their daughter.

Annabelle hid her shock as Mrs Hart explained how their daughter would 
have to bathe, change into her bedtime panties and vest, then come 
downstairs to where her parents would be waiting, sometimes on their own 
but lately with more and more invited guests.

"It's quite reciprocal," she explained. "We invite them to watch my 
husband or myself punish Sophia and then in return they invite us to 
watch their children being punished," she chuckled.

"I see!" Annabelle murmured.

"There's a procedure; we start by listing her faults, then we make her 
undress completely and have her bend over one of our knees. After a dozen 
spanks with our hands across her bottom and thighs she usually starts to 
kick and squirm, so, if David is spanking her, I take a firm grip of her 
ankles until he has finished, and he will do the same if I'm spanking 
her," she explained.

Annabelle licked her lips, imagining the scene as one of Sophia's parents 
held her ankles so that the other could spank her lovely little bottom 
and thighs to a glowing and very painful pink.

"The number of spanks has grown steadily as she has got older and more 
used to them. She's now up to thirty," Rachel explained proudly.

"She doesn't get any less if her father is spanking her?" Annabelle 
inquired, imagining his much heavier, larger hand bouncing off the 
child's lovely little bottom and thighs.

"No! Because he tends to take longer, waiting between each spank and 
likes to rub away the pain," Rachel explained, chuckling again. "So you 
see that is why we want something to replace our hands, because thirty is 
a lot on your palm you know," Rachel said, with a smile.

Annabelle nodded, watching Sophia run passed them, her lovely little 
bottom and thighs tightly encased in denim, firm and yet very spankable. 
They nearly past the arcade that led to the shop because her imagination 
of what was to come was in full flow, but she caught herself just in time 
and she opened the door for them to enter and then followed them into the 
shop.

"Hello Miss Appleby, I've brought you two new clients, Mrs Hart and her 
daughter Sophia," Annabelle told her.

"Please call me Rachel," the woman said as they shook hands. Sophia just 
nodded shyly, then returned to looking about her, her mouth hanging open 
as she gazed at all the leather implements and riding equipment on 
display.

"Miss Hopkins informs me that I can purchase a suitable leather implement 
to replace the use of my hand when we spank Sophia's bottom and thighs," 
Rachel explained, blushing herself.

"I see," Miss Appleby replied. "Are you looking for an overall glow, or 
for welts and cuts?" she asked, drawing them deeper into the shop where 
Annabelle recognised the wooden horse with its special saddle.

"Oh, a glow, definitely," Rachel said. "For now, anyway," she amended, 
licking her lips in consideration of the harsher looking implements on 
display.

"Would it be for just her bottom and thighs, or do you want something 
that could be used elsewhere?" Valerie asked.

"Normally! We just spank her bottom and thighs, but if you have something 
else in mind," Rachel said, her voice starting to trail off as she licked 
her lips in anticipation.

Valerie smiled; retrieving from the horse what Annabelle already knew was 
called a martinet, a fearsome little whip used in France to discipline 
children. It had ten leather strands about a foot in length that had been 
bound at one end to a ten-inch long wooden handle.

Miss Appleby swung it through the air, bringing the tips of the leather 
strands down hard across the saddle.

"Oh dear!" Rachel breathed; her face now as flushed as Annabelle's was as 
they considered its use on poor Sophia's lovely little bottom.

"You see! It can be used to cause anything from a mild sting to a real 
burning sensation," Miss Appleby explained, bringing it down hard again 
to demonstrate the way the strands could easily be made to spread with 
the flick of her wrist.

Sophia, watched nervously, staring at the little whip dumbly, no doubt 
fully aware that she had little say in what her mother would choose.

Valerie past it to Rachel so that she could examine it more closely, and 
picked up a different implement, this one a broad strap of leather that 
had been cut along its length to create three, inch broad blades.

"This is a Lochgelly tawse," she explained, and brought it down hard 
across the saddle and they all jumped to the sound of the leather meeting 
leather. "It is made in Scotland by master saddlers who pay particular 
special attention to the weight and craftsmanship. This is the medium-
weight version," she explained.

Rachel took it, gazing in delight at the smooth surface and the 
workmanship that had tapered the thickness of the leather from stout 
handle to thin, whippy tip.

Sophia, licked her lips and swallowed nervously, well aware that any 
items that her mother chose would soon be used on her bottom, decorating 
it in their own way while filling her with their particular type of 
burning, insidious pain.

"Perhaps you'd like to try them before purchasing, I can assist," Miss 
Appleby offered. "The saddle can be easily adjusted, should you wish your 
daughter to ride it whilst you try them out," she explained, with a 
smile.

"Mummy," Sophia whimpered, going to her mother and pulling on her arm 
whilst nervously gazing at the strangely shaped saddle.

Rachel looked at her daughter and grinned.

"You want to leave, don't you?" she chuckled. Sophia nodded eagerly, 
pulling on her mother's arm but not managing to move her.

"Well I'm sorry! But I am going to have to test them," Rachel explained 
to her daughter, the very image of parental sadness.

Sophia dropped her hands and turned to Miss Appleby and Annabelle, about 
to cry as she realised they would be watching, perhaps even 
participating. She looked again at her mother, hoping for some clemency, 
but Rachel was already looking at the two implements, comparing them in 
her hand and no doubt deciding which she should use first.

"You say that you can use this anywhere?" Rachel asked.

"Oh yes! The martinet is most effective when aimed between the thighs and 
across the chest," she explained.

Annabelle watched the little girl as the understanding of Miss Appleby's 
words sunk in, a curious sense of excitement unfurling itself as she saw 
the child's face brighten and her young body begin to shake.

"Mummy, please," she whimpered.

"Now! Be a good little girl and undress," her mother breathed, her face 
glowing as she stared at the saddle.

Annabelle smiled as the child began undressing.

First came the outer clothes, the jeans, the shoes and the socks. Then 
off came her top, the child yet to develop any breasts, and yet a feint 
tan showed where a little bikini had kept little triangles of flesh 
centred on her tiny nipples lovingly pale.

Her skin tone drew the eye, willing them to swell and sprout, to see 
three years of adolescence pass in moments to delivery succulent breasts 
for the martinet to bite into.

Finally, her head downcast, Sophia slipped from her cotton panties, 
peeling them smoothly down before standing naked, arms at her side, her 
hands in little fists as she suffered the humiliation of the watching 
strangers.

"How best? What do you think," Rachel asked breathlessly, weighing the 
martinet in her hand.

Miss Appleby helped Sophia mount the wooden horse and to settle into the 
saddle taking her by the shoulders and easing her back, until she was 
sitting upright and squirming on the strange beads. She placed the 
child's feet in the stirrups and drew her thighs outwards and her arms 
forward towards the pommel.

Her bikini must have been tiny, only covering her smooth pubis, and 
keeping her puffy vulva un-tanned whilst allowing her thighs to become 
sun-kissed.

Annabelle stared, as her thighs were so widely spread; she couldn't be 
compared to anything else other than a prepubescent girl awaiting her 
punishment.

"Commence with her chest," Valerie suggested. "Light strokes at first and 
then increase them," she told her. "You'll be amazed at how painful a 
light stroke can feel," he warned.

Rachel nodded and licked her lips, her legs shuffling apart to give her 
more balance. Annabelle was struck by the similarly to her father playing 
golf the few times she'd caddied for him. He'd shuffle about, addressing 
the ball, much as Rachel addressed her daughter.

Then, with what looked like an idle swing, much different to her father 
striking the golf ball, she struck Sophia across the chest. The child's 
eyes flew wide open and a startled gasp escaped her gaping mouth.

Her reaction had brought a different one from Annabelle who felt as if 
someone had brought a hammer down onto her womb, a jolt deep inside her 
that shook her, her excitement flaring suddenly throughout her lower 
body. Annabelle clutched at herself, panting nearly as loudly as Sophia 
as her mother swung the martinet to land across the girl's chest this 
time with a backhanded motion.

"Slowly now! That's it, back and forth and the blood will come to the 
surface, making her skin even more tender," she advised.

Annabelle could see it happening already, feint lines of colour swelling 
as she was struck, most noticeable on the little triangles of skin that 
hadn't tanned especially around her nipples and thighs, where the leather 
strands had slapped the hardest.

Sophia began to twist at the hip, whining beseechingly before each 
strike, then squealing with its landing, squirming and panting as the hot 
sensations flooded her. Rachel used the martinet back and forth, starting 
high up on her daughter's chest, then slowly descending, striking her 
hips and sometimes scoring her proud pubis.

The marks from the fierce leather strands looked particularly lovely as 
they decorated the smooth and pale bulb of her pubis. Soon, Sophia was 
shaking and crying as the pain started to built to uncontrollable levels. 
Only then did her mother stop to admire her handiwork, her face glowing 
as brightly as the myriad of marks on her daughter's lovely little body.

"Now!" Miss Appleby urged. "Swing it around the handle and bring it up 
between her thighs," she suggested, taking a hold of it to show how, with 
a twisting of the wrist, she could have the leather strands swinging 
around and separating in the air.

Sophia begged with her eyes, too afraid to speak. The martinet held the 
child's attention and as it neared, so her whimpering grew.

Annabelle pressed her thighs together, working them against her slippery 
labia and burning as she considered pulling her skirt up and touching 
herself in front of them.

Then the tips of the martinet were slapping against her tender inner 
thighs and, gasping, she rose in the stirrups, her eyes widening as the 
flicking pain grew closer and closer to her tender young cunt.

Keening, Sophia arched her body outwards in an effort to lift her crotch 
clear of the saddle. The adults stared at her exposed girlhood, stared 
avidly at the lovely smooth lips and the pink tone of tender flesh hiding 
her vagina. And as they stared, the martinet struck, the fierce leather 
strands her exposed pubis.

Sophia's screams, together with the spectacle of watching her being 
whipped, had brought Annabelle to her climax, a strong and sudden orgasm 
that held her frozen as it swept over and through her. She wanted to use 
the martinet herself and she wanted to hold the child and caress her 
whipped flesh. She wanted to lower her head (and the thought made her 
groan in the midst of her pleasure) and lick the smooth skinned cunt, and 
delve for the sweet taste of nectar within.

Sophia collapsed, weeping and holding her crotch, her tear stained face 
turned up to her mother, begging her not to hurt her any more.

"Don't be stupid Sophia," her mother told her. "You're spoiling it for 
me, like you often do!" she told the child. "Now sit up properly," she 
told her, putting the martinet lovingly to one side and taking up the 
tawse and running it through her fingers slowly and licking her lips in 
anticipation.

"Let me!" Valerie offered, stepping forward before the child could 
complain, and spanking her bottom and thighs until she got herself into 
the desired position.

Sophia wept loudly, but the adults attention was now fully on her glowing 
bottom and the enrapturing bikini line that kept a quarter of her it 
lovingly pale, the short and deep anal crease drawing the eye downward 
towards her girlish thighs that desperately tried to keep her little cunt 
hidden.

"Here we go then," Rachel chuckled. Annabelle held her breath, waiting 
without blinking as Rachel tapped the tawse against Sophia's presented 
bottom, and then slowly lifted it.

When it landed, it was sudden and loud, splattering against the child's 
already tender bottom.

Sophia squealed, tossing madly on the ribbed saddle while her hands came 
back to rub and protect her. As one, Valerie and Annabelle stepped 
forward, each taking a wrist to draw them aside, and then wait excitedly 
for her mother to deliver the next stroke. Rachel provided it, again 
sending her daughter into hysterics, and once again creating a lovely 
broad band of tenderness across her daughter's bottom cheeks.

"Hold her still!" Rachel ordered, licking her lips as she gazed 
pleasurably at her daughter's bottom that was now glowing and 
crisscrossed with lovely lines.

Breathlessly, Annabelle and Valerie half bent to each take a leg, then 
drew the child forward so that she now lay along the saddle, her bottom 
parted exposing the rolled lips of her lovely young cunt.

"No, no, no," Sophia protested tearfully, squirming as she was again 
exposed to them all.

Her mother chuckled as she drew the tawse back, aiming it carefully 
before striking. The stroke landed and Sophia screamed as she was 
engulfed in pain, thrashing about so much that neither Annabelle nor 
Valerie could hold her completely still.

"One more," Rachel breathed, her eyes alight on her daughters rolled 
labia.

"Noooo," Sophia sobbed, exhausted by her struggles.

The tawse slid through the air, leather bent back until it landed, then 
whipped forward to slap around the sharp curve of Sophia's pert bottom. 
The sharp slap once again caused the girl to wail and squirm, yet another 
broad line beginning to glow on her little bottom.

"There, there!" her mother crooned, the tawse laid aside so she could cup 
her daughter's little bottom cheeks, her hands encompassing them as she 
began to knead and squeeze them.

"It burns!" Sophia wept.

"I know darling, I know," Rachel murmured lovingly, her hands drawing 
cheek from cheek to allow her helpers to see the pink mouth of her cunt 
nestling below the burnished ring of her little girlish anus.

"Isn't she adorable," she whispered.

Annabelle and Valerie nodded, watching with tightening chests as the 
mother's finger extended to gently touch each portal, gently drawing 
flesh from flesh to better see each little entrance. Spellbound, they 
watched as the hood swelled outwards, the tip of her clitoris appearing, 
glazed with liquid pleasure.

Sophia groaned, her squirming finished as her mother's finger helped her 
forget the heat in her bottom. A nail scraped about both tender and 
sensitive openings to start a yearning inside her. With her thighs 
already held open by the saddle she lifted her bottom up, offering 
herself up to the fingers.

"That's my little angel," Rachel breathed, fingers now pulling the 
protective flesh from about Sophia's little vagina, opening the entrance 
and grinning at the fluid that slid from it. "Yes, that's it my little 
tart!" she crooned.

"Mummy," Sophia begged, trying to forget that others were there, watching 
and enjoying her ordeal.

Rachel chuckled and delivered the coup de grace, wriggling her finger 
across the tender vaginal mouth whilst another breeched the anus, just a 
fingertip easing in and out of her to constantly worry her anal muscles.

Annabelle tightened her own, trying to imagine the woman's touch inside 
her own bottom and her breath quickened. Rachel slowly released the 
bottom cheeks, and her helpers let the child's thighs slip away. Slowly, 
with a soft groan, Sophia was aloud to dismount the horse and she quickly 
reached back to rub herself, her face glowing as she glanced at her 
audience.

"I'll take both," Rachel told Miss Appleby, hands opening her bag to 
retrieve her credit card.

******

Annabelle returned in a cab with Rachel and Sophia, the girl hugging her 
mother whilst she stroked her hair and complemented her on being such a 
brave little girl.

"Will you tell Daddy?" Sophia asked.

"Oh, I think so," her mother replied with a smile. "He'll want to check 
you over, to make sure you haven't been hurt too badly," she explained.

Annabelle watched Sophia blush and wondered if there was more to the warm 
glow in her cheeks. Thoughts of how her father might examine the little 
girl made her nipples stiffen under her camisole and she quickly moved 
her mind to the passing traffic.

Back at reception she found a note from Mr Selby waiting for her, asking 
if she'd consider some overtime, working into the evening.

"I think it's just babysitting," James told her with a shrug.

Mr Selby confirmed it when he appeared a few minutes later. "Mr and Mrs 
Andrews would like to go to the cinema this evening, returning about ten 
and they need someone to look after their daughter, he explained.

Annabelle would have preferred to be on her own in her room that evening, 
using her toy snake. But she didn't want to disappoint Mr Selby, and 
there was also the money to consider. So mentally scratching away 
thoughts of self-pleasure to another day, she nodded and took the room 
details.

She ate, and then at six presented herself at the Andrew's door, knocking 
and calling out her name, then waiting until a tall and handsome man came 
to the door to let her in.

"We're very grateful to you for doing this for us Miss Hopkins," he said 
as he moved aside for her to enter, then introduced her to their daughter 
Mandy, who he said was eleven.

The girls looked at each other speculatively, Annabelle seeing a most 
delightful little girl. Small breasts pushed up her sweat top whilst 
jeans fitted tightly around her hips and thighs. Her hair had been styled 
and her lips gleamed with lip-gloss while her eyes, naturally large, slid 
over Annabelle's young form.

Her mother came out of the bedroom, her hands in her hair as she 
hurriedly fixed a hairclip in place.

"Hello," she said, smiling warmly. "I'm sorry Miss Hopkins but we're 
running late," she explained, turning her back on her husband so he could 
do up the final button at the back of her dress.

"Oh that's all right! You two rush off and Mandy and I will watch 
television," she told them.

"Help yourself to snacks and soft-drinks, but definitely no alcohol for 
Mandy," said the father, sliding his arms into an overcoat.

Annabelle nodded, her attention drawn to the stool in the corner, 
recognising it and feeling her belly jump. It wasn't in its normal place, 
and therefore it had been moved, but why? Just what was expected of her 
she wondered? The girl looked at her, probably wondering just how much 
she knew. She was only eleven, and yet age didn't seem to have a baring, 
here at the Wessex Hotel.

After Mandy's parents had departed, Annabelle licked her lips as she 
looked at the lovely little girl on the settee. "So, tell me what would 
you like to do?" she asked, smiling pleasantly.

The girl seemed undecided and glanced from the stool to the bedroom door 
that was ajar. "I suppose I should get ready for bed first," she 
admitted, eyeing Annabelle speculatively and blushing slightly.

"Ok!" Annabelle agreed, wondering if that meant she could put her feet up 
and watch television. Mandy return with her nightwear then went to the 
bathroom, quietly closing the door while Annabelle flicked through the 
channels.

For a few moments all was quiet, then the bathroom door opened and Mandy 
poked her head out. "Excuse me Miss Hopkins, but I don't know how to turn 
the shower on," the child explained.

Annabelle nodded.

When she first used hers it had taken her five minutes to work out that 
you had to pull the handle out, then turn it to the temperature you 
wanted. Guessing it was easier to show her than explain, Annabelle rose 
and stepped into the marble walled bathroom.

Mandy stepped back delightfully naked, her little breasts perched high on 
her chest while, down below, a few hairs had darkened and curled, 
nestling at the very font of her vaginal cleft. The child blushed, as 
Annabelle looked at her, admiring her slender body, yet the onset of 
puberty gave her slender hips and a truly lovely pelvis. Yet she made no 
move to cover herself, but let Annabelle look.

Annabelle showed her how to turn the shower on and adjust it, stepping 
back, a thought springing into her mind.

"Perhaps I best stay, just in case something happens," she suggested, her 
eyes once more turning to those precious little breasts and her delicious 
little nipple tips.

Mandy blushed, but let her look. "Shall I get in then?" Mandy asked 
timidly.

Annabelle looked at the steaming spray and thought of how welcoming it 
would be, and of the illicit pleasure she would feel, showering with the 
little girl at her side. "I'll get in with you," she said, before the 
child could object.

Mandy looked on coyly as Annabelle began undressing. She raised a hand to 
her belly to scratch herself, and moved from one foot to the other as she 
gazed at Annabelle's adolescent body.

Annabelle led the way, gasping with pleasure as the hot water cascaded 
over her form. Mandy followed her in more timidly, biting her lip as she 
drew close to Annabelle's nakedness.

"Shall I wash you?" Annabelle asked.

Mandy's docility gave her confidence a boost. She already had the soap in 
her hand, building lather ready to slide it over the younger girl's 
smooth young skin. Those pert little breasts perched so high on her chest 
were just crying out to be cupped and squeezed, rubbed and fondled she 
thought.

Before the girl could answer her, she had reached out and soaped her 
shoulders, moving down her arms and feeling the firm young muscles just 
below the surface.

"Pretend you're a shop dummy," Annabelle suggested as she tried washing 
under her arms.

Mandy blushed, but let her arm be moved out, holding them where last 
placed and biting her lip as Annabelle's soapy hands brushed against her 
budding breasts.

"I bet they tingle," Annabelle grinned.

She soaped the little cones, licking her lips and refusing to meet the 
girl's eyes as Mandy's breathing quickened. The nipples started to harden 
nicely under her grazing palm. The little cones were firmer than her own, 
rising smoothly from the little girl's chest without any hint of droop. 
She had no reason to wash them for as long as she did, but she couldn't 
stop herself.

"You can wash mine, if you'd like," Annabelle offered.

Mandy licked her lips, her wet skin glowing as she glanced up at 
Annabelle, then gazed lovingly at her breasts.

Annabelle could feel her breasts tightening and her nipples swelling. She 
could feel her excitement building, even before the child's hands gently 
and timidly slid the soap over them. Then she could only stand there and 
shake as her own breasts were delicately stroked and lovingly caressed.

Her hands now covered the little girl's more tender little breasts and 
squeezed, bringing a groan of delight to her throat as the sensations 
flew down into her cunt. Knowing what she wanted now, Annabelle pushed 
the child's hands away and took the soap.

She swapped places with Mandy and pushed her against the shower cubicle, 
smiling into her startled face as she lowered herself down between the 
child's thighs.

She then lovingly soaped the child's precious little cunt, and then 
stroked it with the edge of her hand. Her nervous tension evaporated with 
the building of her pleasure as Mandy made no complaint when she turned 
her around so her firm little bottom was facing her.

She slid the edge of her soap covered hand between the girl's bottom 
cheeks, swallowing and licking her lips as she felt her little nether 
hole under her finger, then the hot little hole of her vagina.

Mandy panted, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as she pressed back, 
sobbing with delight as Annabelle's soapy finger slid knowingly across 
both her vagina and her rosette. She bent, pushing her bottom still 
further out, whimpering as she wished her clitoris would be touched.

Annabelle spread her thumb back, pulling at the webbing as she sought to 
caress the full length of the girl's cunt. With her thumb pressing the 
hardened flesh downwards she used the tip of her first finger against the 
sphincter. Then with finger and thumb together she rubbed until the child 
jerked as if spanked, her face mirroring the shockwaves that jerked 
through her young body.

Annabelle drew Mandy out the shower and dried her, the rough towelling 
bringing the girl round and increasing the pinkness of her skin. She 
quickly dried her own body; letting Mandy watch, before drawing her into 
the room again where the television was still on and made her sit on the 
settee. Ignoring it, Annabelle went over to the corner and pulled the 
stool out, chuckling as Mandy blushed.

Without preamble, Annabelle put the towel over the stool and sat on its 
edge, spreading her thighs until her cunt was exposed. Looking down, she 
could see her smooth labia agape, the hood of her clitoris standing proud 
from between the flattened roundness of her vulva. She looked up and saw 
Mandy watching her, staring at her nakedness while wrapped in a towel.

"Take that towel off, and get over here now," she ordered, her fingers 
sliding down her pubis to stroke the tender flesh either side of her 
clitoris. Her pussy mouth gaped, dying to feel a tongue flicking at it. A 
flood of warmth suffused her lower body as Mandy let her towel drop.

The child meekly got on her knees, doing just as Annabelle had ordered, 
obeying her without a word of descent as she crept forward on her hands 
and knees. Soft girlish lips touched the parted wings of her inner lips 
and Annabelle gasped, her body tensing with the overwhelming joy she felt 
surge within her. A tongue meekly tasted her and she shuddered, sobbing 
through her clenched lips as she came and flooded her sex with hot 
wetness.

Sucking her breath in and poised on the edge of yet another orgasm, 
Annabelle quivered and held herself back. She loved the feel of being 
licked; of having her seeping wetness lapped away, the overflow caught by 
her anus. Each lick of the girl's tongue pushed her closer to the edge 
and she clung all the harder to sanity, wanting it to last forever.

The tongue wriggled into the mouth of her cunt and drew out her thick 
juice, then slid upwards, flicking her swollen clitoris. The sensation 
was like a hot knife thrust into her loins, the tip igniting an explosion 
that shot through her, flooding her with muscle-clenching delight.

Flying through it, she held Mandy to her cunt with her hands and thighs, 
bucking uncontrollably and sobbing as the tongue continued feasting on 
her.

Finally, unable to stand another touch, she pushed Mandy away and sucked 
in her breath. The dying sensations of her orgasm drifted from her skin 
and she hovered for a moment between earth and heaven, the child gazing 
up her at adoringly.

"You've done that before, haven't you? Annabelle asked.

Mandy blushed still brighter and hung her head.

"Mummy, sometimes does, when Daddy is away on business," she mumbled 
guiltily.

Annabelle grinned pleased she was correct.

"What else do you do?" she asked teasingly.

Her face glowing, Mandy rose and hurried into the bedroom, returning in a 
matter of moments with a pair of leather panties like the ones see seen 
at Meredith's, that had a phallus jutting from the front just as dark and 
curved, but smaller in length and girth.

Mandy dropped in front of Annabelle and held them for the older girl to 
step into, her eyes begging her to do so. When Annabelle stood and 
stepped into them, she drew them up Annabelle's thighs, then breathlessly 
tightened the straps on the hips until the phallus was tight, small bumps 
within the crotch to ensure that the wearer would feel the pressure 
against her clitoris.

Without a word, Mandy shuffled to the stool and laid herself over it, her 
hands sweeping back to hold her bottom cheeks apart, there to wait, her 
anal rosette quivering in anticipation.

"Your mother takes you anally," Annabelle breathed, trying to imagine the 
woman she'd seen leaving with her husband, wearing these special leather 
panties and thrusting the phallus into her daughter's lovely tight anus.

"She says I'm too young to do it properly," Mandy mumbled timidly.

Annabelle couldn't think of an answer to that, not while staring at the 
little ring, partially opened, winking at her above the pink and gleaming 
little mouth to her cunny.

"Please," Mandy whimpered, looking beseechingly over her shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Annabelle drew the phallus downwards, lodging the 
tip in the hollow of the child's anal hole. They seemed made for each 
other, fitting perfectly. Then, with that strange disjointed feeling 
coming over her once again, Annabelle tentatively pushed.

Mandy groaned and dipped her back, pushing back almost eagerly. The 
sculptured head of the circumcised phallus popped into her and she 
gasped, and then panted excitedly.

Hardly believing it had been that easy, Annabelle gripped the smooth 
skinned flanks of the child and watched as she pushed the phallus deeper. 
She felt the pressure against her pubis and sobbed as it re-woke her sex.

It drove her to push again, then again and again, Mandy's keening lost 
beyond the drumming in her ears and the thunder of her blood. She stared 
at the black phallus assaulting the little pale pink anal ring. She 
watched, as the skin grew pink with friction, with pleasure, with 
soreness.

The dull ache within her transformed itself to excitement and demanded 
she work harder. The girl bent over before her, squealed and gripped the 
stool, drumming her feet as her anus was invaded.

Sweat dripped from Annabelle's chin to the small of Mandy's back until, 
with a last few hard strokes, she burst through the barrier keeping her 
from her orgasm and basked in the explosion of light and heat, held 
upright by the phallus that was lodged deeply in the little girl's anus.

Later, when Mr and Mrs Andrews returned, Annabelle was watching a film on 
the television and nibbling popcorn, Mandy was asleep in bed. They 
thanked her for looking after their daughter, tipped her generously, and 
then sent her on her way.