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, incest, mast, and bdsm

Chapter 3, Annabelle's Pleasures
  
Annabelle was hurrying across the first floor restaurant between one task 
and another when a familiar voice called out. It was Miss Sharp who was 
seated at one of the tables, smiling and beckoning her over. 

"Stop and have a cup of tea my dear," Jane insisted, pouring Annabelle a 
cup.

Annabelle sat down, secretly grateful of a break and sipped the tea, 
smiling at the young woman across from her and remembering the last time 
they'd met, when Jane had worked her naked body to frenzy, only able to 
orgasm whilst she was being watched.

"How long are you staying for this time?" Annabelle asked.

"Oh! I arrived last night, only to hear that you were busy!" Jane told 
her, smiling so Annabelle wouldn't think it was a rebuke. "I'll be 
leaving this afternoon. But that gives us plenty of time!" she giggled.

"I don't know. I've got work to do," Annabelle blushed.

"But this is work! I've booked you for a special from one o'clock," she 
grinned.
 
"Special?" Annabelle replied, her heart rising into her throat. 

The woman's grin broadened and her eyes gleamed with mischief before 
glancing around to make sure no one was near enough to overhear.

"You're new at the Wessex Hotel, and new girls have to learn their role 
fully, don't they," Jane giggled.

"So! What have I got to learn next?" Annabelle asked, two bright points 
growing on her cheeks.

"You know you're a very popular girl. Four of us put bids in to be the 
one to teach you the next bit," Miss Sharp said, purposefully extending 
Annabelle's frustration.

"Teach me what?" Annabelle asked. Her hands had clenched under the table 
as she waited with bated breath to learn of her next ordeal, and the 
woman in front of her giggled and grinned, teasing her for as long as she 
could.

"Did you like sucking Mr Selby's cock?" Jane asked.

Annabelle felt her blush deepen whilst her heart stopped in mid beat. 
Eyes wide with the shock of realising that others knew, Annabelle felt 
her breath leave her.

"You know!" she gasped, then looked about her in shock. 

"Everyone knows! It's part of the assessment," Miss Sharp explained, her 
face suddenly serious.

Annabelle searched for words but couldn't find any. She was numb with 
shock, horrified to think that everyone knew that she had knelt in front 
of Mr Selby, dutifully letting him slide his rampant cock back and forth 
in her mouth and then swallowing his sperm.

"You're all sick!" she gasped, her eyes filling with tears of 
humiliation.

"Tell me my dear! Is there anything that you haven't enjoyed?" Jane 
asked.

Annabelle blinked back her tears as she realised that she had indeed 
enjoyed everything so far.

"I didn't think he would tell everyone," Annabelle said, still smarting 
with the thought of him walking around and relating what had happened.

"Oh, he didn't! But then he didn't need to. Everyone knows that the girl 
who is the guest liaison representative at the Wessex Hotel has to be 
able to take cock in all three of her orifices," Jane giggled.

Annabelle stared, a wave of sensation swarming through her as she 
realised what she meant.

"What are you going to teach me this afternoon?" she asked softly, her 
heart once again pounding in her throat.

Jane grinned excitedly, her eyes sparkling.

"I am going to play with that lovely bottom of yours. I have got plenty 
of toys, plus my finger and mouth of course; to make sure that your 
virgin anus will take cock when needed.

"It is a virgin anus, isn't it?" Jane asked worriedly.

Despite the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach, Annabelle found 
herself smiling at the worried look on Jane's face and chuckled slightly 
as she nodded.  

"I'm a complete virgin," she promised.

******

Annabelle was grateful for the instructions that came with the enema 
equipment she bought at Barker's. She would never have otherwise filled 
the bag up to the brim, nor suffered the cramps for as long as she had, 
or thought to put scented water in it for a final douching were it not 
for those instructions.

Worried about wind and cleanliness she walked along the corridor to Miss 
Sharp's suite of rooms. More than the pain of having her anus dilated for 
the first time she was worried about embarrassing herself, and even 
worse, knowing that stories of her special lessons were being whispered 
around the hotel.

Annabelle knocked hesitantly on the door and it was immediately by the 
woman who reached for her arm to pull her urgently into the room.

"God, I'm so hot!" Jane told her, rubbing the seam of her jeans and 
grinning at the shocked expression on Annabelle's face. "Bet you're a bit 
scared, aren't you?" she asked.

Annabelle nodded, her eyes drawn to the double bed where the covers had 
already been drawn down and rolled into a bolster. 

Jane watched her and smiled. "Come on!" she said, drawing her into the 
large marble tiled bathroom. "We're just going to have a shower together, 
that's all," Jane told her, smiling to put the young girl at ease and 
being unable to stop herself from reaching out to help the young girl 
undress.

Annabelle let the woman fumble with her buttons and zippers and felt 
strange, as she watched herself being undressed. Miss Sharp had always 
fascinated Annabelle not least because of her predication towards being 
watched as she masturbated.

Miss Sharp undressed herself whilst she helped Annabelle; her fingers 
taking a moment to pinch the girl's nipples erect, and then to send 
shivers of pleasure zooming into her young body by deft but light touches 
on her bottom and pubis.

Jane grinned knowingly and took Annabelle's hand to steer it between her 
legs, purring as the long digits curled between her labia and slid 
through the hot wetness that continued to seep from her.

"Now reach back," she urged, lifting a leg onto the side of the bath to 
make it easier for her.

Annabelle knew where she was meant to go and slid a finger slowly 
backwards, feeling the smoothness of flesh between the anus and vagina, 
then sliding onto the little knotted hole, swallowing as she felt it pout 
beneath her fingertip.

"That's what you have to learn," Jane breathed, the finger hovering over 
her anus thrilling her with its innocence.

Breathlessly, Annabelle traced the rim, her eyes filled with the cunt 
before her, curled lips gleaming with excitement. Couldn't they just 
explore each other, lick and finger, rub until excitement overcame them, 
forgetting about what they HAD to do.

"Come on!" Jane told her, breaking the spell. 

The shower was on, and the spray steaming. Annabelle stepped under it and 
was drenched in hot water. Jane followed, her face bright with excitement 
as she picked up the soap and immediately began to lather the cheeks of 
Annabelle's bottom.

"Do you like my bottom, Miss?" Annabelle asked, trying to reduce the 
tension inside her with a bit humour.

"Oh yes! You have a lovely bottom my dear," Miss Sharp replied.

Having lathered the cheeks, she pressed her breasts against the girl's 
back, tickling her with her erect nipples while the edge of a long soapy 
finger slid between her girl's bottom, pushing deep between to feel the 
little corrugated ring of anal muscle.

"I'm afraid," Annabelle admitted softly, feeling the soapy finger slide 
over her most private place. She was strangely excited too, her young 
cunt full of wet heat, her own nipples as stiff as those brushing her 
back.

"That's good," Jane breathed, Annabelle's words exciting her. 

The girl pushed her bottom backwards, but not enough. "Push your bottom 
right out," she urged, her fingertip soaping into the little clenched 
crevice she loved tracing.

Refusing to think of what was going to happen, Annabelle obeyed and bent 
further over, pushing her bottom back onto the finger. Having done this 
she gasped, wide eyed, as she felt the finger slide deep inside her anus.

"Try not to tense my dear," Jane breathed, an inch of her finger suddenly 
held still by the clenching of Annabelle's anus.

Annabelle dropped her head and tried to do as she was told. Water poured 
over her back, rivers of hot water running down to caress her breasts and 
bathe her bottom in its warmth. The fingers slid out, and then back in, 
and had Annabelle crying out in shock, her legs weakening at the strange 
sensations in her bottom.

"Good girl, good girl," Jane grinned. 

She slid all but the tip of her finger out, and then pushed inwards, 
listening to Annabelle gasp. She pushed her finger in as deep as she 
could, and reached between the girl's thighs with her other hand, to 
stroke her parted vulva to lift the girl's excitement.

With her left hand stroking Annabelle's cunt, the index finger of her 
right hand was sliding in and out of her bottom, and Jane listened to the 
girl's quickening breath, giggling as she began to dip her back and bend 
her legs, so desperately wanting the quickening that would bring her off.

"Do you want to come?" Jane asked, her finger sliding inwards, all the 
way into Annabelle's smooth anus. 

Annabelle tried catching her breath, then nodded, whimpering in reply, 
quivering in her need.

"Ok! But not yet," Jane told her. Her hand and fingers slid away and 
Annabelle groaned and reached for herself, holding her bottom where the 
ghost of a finger still held her apart.

"You're not trying to masturbate, are you?" Miss Sharp warned, stepping 
from the bath and gathering the towels. "I'd have to tie your hands if I 
thought you were trying to bring yourself off," she warned.

Annabelle burnt and shook her head, pulling her hands quickly away and 
joining her mistress on the mat. The towel dabbed her wetness, then she 
was being drawn into the bedroom and then over to a bolster that had been 
placed across the bed. 

She was reminded of the surgical appliance shop, Barker's; almost sure 
that all the devices that lay on the bed had come from there, perhaps a 
couple more from Antoinette's. 

She gazed at them and licked her lips, her heart fluttering with the 
thought of the larger items invading her.

"Over you go!" Miss Sharp said, grinning broadly as she smeared her 
fingers with oil and watched as Annabelle battled with herself. 

It wouldn't hurt; she kept telling herself, draping herself over the 
bolster and parting her thighs when they were tapped. The mattress dipped 
between her thighs as Jane knelt on the bed behind her; the cheeks of her 
lovely bottom perfectly poised and parted for her special lessons in anal 
pleasure. 

Swallowing, she resting her head on her hands and tried desperately not 
to let her nervousness get the better of her.

Miss Sharp thought of all the money she'd had to pay to have this girl's 
lovely bottom to play with, and decided it had been worth every penny. 
She slowly slid her palms along the inner thighs, her oiled fingers held 
away from the skin so as not to mar its clean smoothness. 

Reaching her bottom, she slowly caressed each cheek, and then pulled them 
apart, widening the short crease and uncovering the tight rosette so that 
her fingers could gently moisten, and prepare her. Jane licked her lips, 
excited by what she was doing, and extended a finger.

"Here we go," she breathed, looking along Annabelle's body to watch her 
reaction as her oiled digit slid smoothly into her anus. 

Annabelle groaned and bit her lip, her toes curling up as the same 
sensations flared within her, rising from the defilement of her willingly 
offered bottom.

Jane grinned, working her finger smoothly in and out. Then she added a 
second finger and pushed it inwards, grinning as Annabelle sobbed and hid 
her face, grinning as the young girl dipped her back and offered up her 
bottom to the two fingered assault.

"Ah! Your beginning to like it, aren't you?" she chuckled.

Annabelle panted and nodded, her eyes closed, the better to enjoy the 
intrusion and the sensations that rose from her belly. The bite of the 
stretched flesh slowly ebbed while the pumping sensation matched the 
rhythm of her mistresses fingers grew hotter and hotter inside of her.
 
"Good, isn't it?" Jane teased.

She massaged one bottom cheek as she slipped her fingers in and out of 
the tight anus before doing the same to the other. Annabelle panted and 
nodded, beads of sweat on her brow as she concentrated on the many lewd 
things that she'd been made to do in an effort to bring about an orgasm.

"Mm, but you look so good!" Jane told her. 

She slid her fingers from her anus and used both her hands to stretch and 
hold Annabelle's bottom apart, her head lowering. She kissed the puckered 
hole and licked the hard flesh, then dipped her tongue into the closing 
ring, tickling Annabelle with her wriggling tongue before diving between 
her thighs to avidly lick the thick wetness from her exposed cunt.

Annabelle stared sightlessly at the wall and gripped the sheet in her 
fists as she succumbed to her first orgasm, her lower body shaking with 
the suddenness of it coming upon her, bursting hotly within her and 
fading almost as quickly.

Jane licked her lips and grinned triumphantly. 

"I expect you to do the same to me soon," Miss Sharp told her. "Until 
then," she murmured, her breath leaving her as she picked up what looked 
like a necklace of beads, each one larger than the previous one, each 
held an inch apart by knotted nylon.

Enjoying the stillness that had come with the passing of her pleasure, 
Annabelle groaned softly as the first bead entered, and a little more 
loudly as the second and third was pushed in. The forth, pushed in by 
Jane's thumb, made her groan and pant and the fifth, the last, had her 
whimpering at it pushed her anal ring inwards before passing into her, 
there to hold her open, panting with the sensations that passed up her 
colon.

"You'll love this," Jane giggled, picking up the string and spreading her 
other hand across the girl's bottom, her thumb on her moist cunt, and her 
fingers on one taut bottom cheek. Then slowly and surely, she pulled on 
the nylon thread holding each of the beads, drawing them slowly from the 
young girl's anus.

Each release brought a gasp from Annabelle as she felt the draw on her 
anal ring, the largest beads pulling her outward before finally bursting 
free, the smaller ones popping out, each one making her gasp and tighten 
her anal ring.

"And now this!" Jane grinned, throwing aside the beads.

The cleverly contoured length of rubber was gently pushed inwards, 
Annabelle gasping as she felt it slide deep into her anus. There, Jane 
began moving it back and forth, her grin growing with Annabelle's 
breathless gasps.

"Reach back and do it to yourself," Miss Sharp said, getting off the bed 
and standing up for a moment.

Annabelle groaned and reached back. The other half of the toy poked out 
of her bottom, waiting for a hand to move it back and forth inside her. 
With another sob, she pushed it deeper, then drew it practically out 
before forcing it back in, every ripple, bulge and bend of the long 
rubber tool igniting the pleasure points in her anus.

"And now the true test my dear," Jane told her.

Annabelle looked over her shoulder, both hands now pushing and pulling 
the toy in and out of her tender anus. She stared at Miss Sharp, who had 
re-appeared between her thighs wearing tight leather underpants from 
which a black rubber cock stood, its thick length slightly curved, the 
moulded shaft provided with the thick head of a circumcised penis.

Annabelle could only pant and whimper as she was taken by the hips and 
pulled back, lifting her until her bottom was truly spread. Tossing and 
panting, she sobbed as the toy was carelessly drawn out only to then be 
replaced with the cold thick rubber cock.

"Do you want it?" Miss Sharp asked, her body gently pressing the coned 
head to the bright indent of Annabelle's swollen anal ring.

"I don't know," Annabelle sobbed, her words muffled by the mattress.

"Do you want it?" Miss Sharp asked again, her eyes turned down to fully 
admire the flare of Annabelle's bottom, the pale open crevice and the 
monolithic black cock, ready to invade her. 

"Well?" she asked.

"Yes!" Annabelle hissed, gripping the sheets, ready for her mistress's 
assault.

Staring down at their meeting, Jane eased the bulbous cock head into 
Annabelle bottom, the girl's keening voice inflaming her. Once in, and 
once Annabelle had succumbed to just panting and whimpering, she rode the 
young girl, forcing the thick rubber cock back and forth.

"Lovely and smooth!" Jane breathed, easing back and admiring the 
stretched pink flange that held onto the cock as it moved outwards. 
Annabelle sobbed gripping the sheets even more tightly, eyes wide and 
staring at nothing as the swarm of sensations flooded her.

A fresh grip on her hips and the cock was pumping her, spreading her 
colon, filling her and making her groan. 

Then came the awful slide back, her belly rippling with the urge to push 
down, her anus tightening as she desperately tried to stop it being 
withdrawn. The fucking, her first ever in her bottom had begun, and it 
had begun in earnest.

Was normal intercourse like this, Annabelle wondered in the tiny piece of 
her mind that could still think coherently as swarming flows of pleasure 
beat upon one another, growing and growing, threatening to swamp her.

She was a rag doll, jerked back and forth. She was a dilated sphincter; 
she was a hot anal passage that felt the incredible friction of the thick 
cock sliding smoothly in and out of her, sweeping her upwards with each 
slide.

"I'm going to come!" Jane told her breathlessly.

"Yes, yes!" Annabelle urged, her body suddenly vibrating, suddenly up 
there, right on the edge.

Jane gasped with her release, shoving the cock deep into Annabelle's 
bottom and pressing it there as she welcomed the sensation against her 
pubic bone.

Annabelle sobbed as her own pleasure erupted within her, a pleasure that 
rotated around her anus rather than her cunt, yet none the less took her 
in its palm and shot her upwards, to heaven and back.

The sensations in her bottom eased away, awakening her to the earth again 
and reminding her she was still female. With a groan, Annabelle slid down 
to lie over the bolster once more, and then turned onto her back to gaze 
up lovingly at her mistress.

"I hope your tongue's ready!" Miss Sharp murmured, as she mounted the bed 
and sat astride Annabelle's face.

Annabelle watched as Miss Sharp pulled her bottom cheeks apart, and then 
bent her knees to begin her descent. Then she was busy, busy trying to 
breathe and trying to stab her tongue into the woman's tight anus, her 
exhaustion forgotten as she worked to bring her mistress to yet another 
orgasm.

******

Annabelle was in the coffee shop, when Mr Selby caught up with her. She 
had been there for almost twenty minutes, holding her drink but hardly 
touching it as she starred out of the window.

She was recalling all the wonderful sensations that Miss Sharp had 
introduced her too. Moments, like the fucking she had given her with the 
rubber cock and other toys. She could still feel the ghost of them inside 
her, tutoring her to open to their girth and showing her what pleasure 
there was to be gained from them.

Mr Selby broke into her reminiscing and sat beside her to gently lay a 
warm hand on her wrist. "I have a lady in reception, a Miss Johnson, here 
with her nephew, a handsome boy of fourteen, so I'm told," he explained.

"Yes?" she said.

"Well! I know you've been very busy already this afternoon, but Miss 
Johnson has requested that you assist her with her nephew," he told her.

"Is this to be my last trial?" she asked, aware that the week was nearly 
over and, technically, she was still a virgin. Her cheeks burnt with the 
knowledge that he knew she would have been taken anally just a short 
while ago. 

Miss Sharp wouldn't have told him just how much she had enjoyed it, 
screaming loudly through her last orgasm, but all of a sudden she wished 
he did know. 

"Oh no! Unless that is you wish it to be," he added. "You can simply 
assist if you prefer," he told her. 

As always, he never seemed to put any pressure on her, and yet achieved 
his goal none the less. Am I that pliable, Annabelle wondered, or does he 
somehow know how much I've enjoyed it so far. They rose together and 
returned to reception where Miss Johnson and her nervous young nephew 
were waiting.

Miss Heather Johnson was not at all the figure of an aunt. Of moderate 
height she had a full figure that a blouse and skirt emphasized, drawing 
men's eyes to her. Her face, in contrast to the welcome of her shapely 
body, was stern and sharp, a thin nose holding large spectacles over cold 
and calculating eyes.  Together with her hair tight sharply back to her 
skull, she looked stern and unyielding.

The boy beside her certainly looked handsome. He had blond curls that 
framed a tanned face from which blue and innocent eyes looked in awe at 
the splendid of the interior around him. His lips had a fullness to them 
that cried out to be kissed and nibbled on whilst his body spoke of a 
hidden strength and of many pleasing attributes.

Annabelle introduced herself and felt her hand taken in a firm grip and 
her face closely scrutinised before being released.

"We're on the fifth floor," the woman said, handing her the key and 
waiting for her to lead the way.

She did so, the boy carrying the bags, his cheeks brightening as only a 
boy's can do each time their eyes met. The aunt said nothing, but flicked 
her fingers when she expected her nephew to hurry. 

They entered, Annabelle holding the door for the woman to sweep in, her 
nephew following a little more slowly, once more gazing in awe at the 
luxury of the hotel rooms.

"This, by the way, is Peter, my sister's boy," explained Miss Johnson as 
she poured herself a tall glass of gin and vermouth. 

Annabelle smiled at the boy, her grin growing as he blushed brightly. 

"She's older than me you see," Miss Johnson explained as she took a seat 
at the drinks bar and, like Annabelle, watched the boy as he stood 
awkwardly in front of them, blushing brightly. 

"I've been warning him for months that this day would come," she 
explained. "I have also hinted at all the lessons he is going to have to 
learn!" she grinned. 

Annabelle saw the bulge in his trousers grow as he starred at her, and 
watched him squirm and blush even more brightly as he heard his aunt's 
words.

"Would you like to undress him for me?" the woman asked. "You can play 
with him if you like. I don't mind if he spends; I expect that he will be 
able to produce plenty more at his age," she chuckled.

Annabelle felt a wave of bright excitement sweep through her and stepped 
towards the embarrassed boy. Her hand reached out to stroke his face, 
with her fingers feeling skin that had never once felt the rasp of a 
razor. She went around him, feeling the hard planes of curved muscle 
beneath his shirt while, all along, he shook and held himself.

"Now, now," she scolded, slapping his hands aside. "You don't want to 
upset your Aunty, now, do you Peter?" she asked teasingly. She grinned 
into his nervous face and pulled the buttons of his shirt apart, not 
caring if one came off or not as she uncovered his muscular but boyish 
chest, the skin perfectly smooth, his nipples tiny points of burnished 
copper.

She couldn't stop herself from stroking his flesh, feeling how hard, firm 
and smooth it was, how the warmth radiated out of him. She grinned as his 
breath quickened, caused by her circling hands above his loins.

"See? You like it really," Annabelle teased, pulling at his belt so as to 
undo it before attacking his trousers.

"I bet he's got a nice cock," Miss Johnson said from behind Annabelle, 
standing to remove her blouse and show the black leather corset she wore 
beneath it, half cups holding up her proud breasts.

Annabelle knelt and dragged his trousers down, grinning broadly as she 
uncovered a pair of white underpants, stretched out at the front by his 
cock. She flicked a finger at it and laughed as he and it both jerked, 
and then reached up behind him to feel the tight cheeks of his bottom 
through the soft and warm cotton.

"Have you got a nice cock, Peter?" Annabelle asked, grinning into his 
burning face. 

She quickly drew his underpants down and his cock sprung free, stretched 
skin around a core of hardness, his circumcision creating a mushroom of 
brightly glowing flesh that already leaked from its eye and beneath, his 
balls hung nicely rounded and sparsely covered by soft brown hair.

Grinning up at him, Annabelle wrapped one hand round the tight balls and 
cupped his sweet and hairless bottom with other, stroking and squeezing, 
each response of his cock making her leak into her panties with secret, 
unfulfilled longing.

"He looks excited!" his aunt murmured. She shed her glasses, loosing some 
of her austere look along with them, and walked forward to stand over 
them. Looking at her nephew, she undid her skirt and let it fall away. 

Beneath, sheer back panties curved around her prominent cunt, with short 
curls escaping the lace. Plain black garters held dark seemed stockings, 
and when she stepped from her fallen dress, it was to display heels 
longer than Annabelle's.

Peter's eyes seemed ready to pop from his face as he stared at his aunt's 
near nakedness, her statuesque form towering over him.

Annabelle grinned, loving the look of the young boy face standing before 
his aunt, his white childish underpants around his ankles, his handsome 
adolescent cock standing nicely erect, and ready to burst.

"He has good sized balls!" Annabelle told the impervious woman as she 
entered into the spirit of the session. "Shall I make him spend now?" she 
asked.

"Yes! Let's see how far he can shoot his horrid sperm!" Miss Johnson told 
her, chuckling at the idea and stepping to one side so she wasn't at risk 
of being splattered.

Annabelle grinned as the hand on his balls slid forward to stroke his 
long but slender shaft. As she created a ring of her fingers through 
which to slide his cock, she also began fluttering her fingers at the 
crease of his bottom, teasing him with the thought of touching his anus.

Almost immediately the boy spent, crying out and jerking his whole body 
forward as his cock spewed sperm from its tip. It was flung through the 
air, a long line of pearly seed that arched five feet before splattering 
into the carpet. Nor was it over as, again and again, Annabelle's fingers 
pulled on his shaft bringing on another powerful jet of seed, each spurt 
loosing a little bit more energy until the last just dribbled from the 
eye, trailing down to the floor before breaking away.

"There! Wasn't that good?" Annabelle breathed, continuing to stroke his 
cock and licking her lips as it continued to throb and jerk, not for a 
moment flagging, as an adult cock would have done.

"Good was it? Dirtying the carpet for someone else to clean?" chided his 
aunt.

Peter gulped. "I didn't mean to Aunty," he mumbled. "It was her," he told 
his aunt, nodding towards Annabelle who was still stroking his cock, and 
working a little of his sperm into the skin to make it lovely and 
slippery.

Heather's palms landed across his lovely bottom several times, and Peter 
sobbed as the spanking was absorbed. "Don't ever say it was someone 
else's fault boy!" she spat.

"I'm sorry Aunty," he mumbled.

"I've warned you, haven't I boy?" Heather murmured, stepping closer, 
putting her chest right in front of the young lad's eyes.

"Yes Aunty," he whined.

Annabelle grinned as his spent cock lurched in her circled fingers, fresh 
drool weeping from the tip and making his flesh very slippery.

"I've warned you what I'd do if you ever upset me, haven't I?" she 
breathed.

"Yes Aunty," he whimpered, ogling the full breasts right in front of him.

"Did you think I didn't mean it?" she asked him.

"No Aunty," he whined.

Miss Johnson grinned and took him by the arm. She drew him towards the 
bed, a bed that was large enough to sleep five and pushed him over the 
blanket chest that stood at its foot.

"Over you go boy!" she told him sharply as she turned to her bag and, 
opening it, pulled out a short leather implement, about the size and 
shape of a school ruler, but made of thick leather.

His face pale, Peter turned over and hid his face. They could hear his 
breath though as both of them watched his bottom tense, thinning the 
cheeks but making them more prominent, a perfect target for the implement 
his aunt was holding.

"Move, and you get double!" Heather told her nephew, her hand raised, 
ready to deliver the first slap of the leather. She aimed for the outer 
flank of his lean young bottom and her strike was perfect.

The boy gasped and jerked. Annabelle did the same, then licked her lips 
and let the excitement of the moment flood through her as a solid red 
mark appeared on his flesh.

The leather blade flashed down again, landing just as loudly on his other 
flank, his reaction coming on just as quickly.

Annabelle loved it, and wished she could dare to press her hands to 
herself and rub herself as madly and energetically as she wanted to.

"Boys must learn to behave," Heather breathed, her body turning as she 
delivered another sharp slap to his now tender bottom. The cut, delivered 
low, made him wail and arch, his toes curling as he absorbed the pain.

Annabelle felt like that too, her toes arching in her shoes whilst the 
boy's lean bottom cheeks displayed yet another burning line to join the 
other two.

"Want to try?" Heather asked, negligently sweeping the leather down 
again, left to right across the apex of his bottom.

Peter squirmed and whimpered, panting and desperately trying to ease the 
sudden burning it had produced in his bottom.

Annabelle took the leather implement and weighed it in her hand, 
surprised by its weight. Peter's bottom was in front of her, offered 
obediently upwards, the boy panting and straining to stay still. His aunt 
was watching, making sure he remained obedient and willing, but just as 
obviously watching her to see how she fared.

With a fresh grip of the implement, Annabelle swung it down, swinging her 
arm down as forcefully as she could. As it landed, striking hard into the 
apex of his bottom, and she felt an exultant sensation sweep over her, 
dampening his cry of pain behind the roaring in her ears.

"Stay still!" Annabelle, her hand raising and a second sweep of her arm 
brought the leather down again.

Peter squealed and frantically kicked at the air, Annabelle's strokes 
gleaming broadly across his pert young bottom.
 
"Now over the same marks," Heather told her. "That will teach him 
nicely," she chuckled.

Annabelle stopped to capture her breath, the sight of the young boy 
squirming and whimpering just keeping her excited. Yet, at last, she 
lifted the leather and swung it down, her eyes fastened on one of the 
lines crossing his bottom.

Peter arched and kicked, crying out in agony as his tender bottom 
received a second blow. His aunt stepped forward and took the implement 
from Annabelle.

Watching the girl spanking her nephew had inflamed her and now she could 
stand it no longer. Standing over him, she swept the leather down, then 
immediately swept it on her backhand, down across his bottom. 

She ignored him wails, ignored his squealing and his squirming to 
concentrate on striking him from left and right. She struck as fiercely 
as she could, on and on until the sweltering need within her had past 
away and she could step back and inhale, admiring the vivid lines that 
now decorated his painful bottom cheeks.

"Turn over!" she told her nephew, spitting the words sharply to him.
Peter turned over, his eyes begging for leniency, his hands trying to 
hide his swollen cock.

"Annabelle, take his legs. I want them tied to the legs of the bed," she 
told her, producing some lengths of cord from the bedside table.

With an incredible rush of excitement, Annabelle set to work pulling his 
ankles apart and tying them close to the floor. His aunt did the same 
with his wrists, pulling them over his head until the young boy was 
tightly bound on his back on the bed, his burning and tender bottom close 
to the blanket chest where his feet were bent down towards the stout 
wooden bed-legs.

Annabelle joined Miss Johnson in admiring the nervous young boy now tied 
to the bed. Stretched, his belly sank inwards while bellow it, his cock 
stood, still proudly erect, despite what they had done to him. With his 
bottom so recently tenderised, he squirmed constantly, forever trying to 
ease the pain caused by the rough surface of the blanket chest.

"You can join in, or just watch," Miss Johnson said as she removed from 
her bag four packets of extra long shoelaces. Undoing them, she doubled 
them over and tied them off leaving two little whips; their plastic 
tipped ends now ready to scour his flesh wherever they landed.

Annabelle took one of the little whips, and watched as; standing between 
his thighs his aunt swept the unusual little whip down, striking him 
across his balls. Peter's breath caught, then he wailed, arching and 
twisting in agony as the red marks of the plastic tipped laces grew 
across his wrinkled ball sack.

"I told you that I would punish you, didn't I?" his aunt spat, striking 
them again.

Peter arched once more; every muscle taut as he squealed and squirmed, 
yet more little marks appearing on and around his balls.

"Yes Aunty," he cried.

Breathing deeply, excitedly, Heather offered Annabelle the chance and 
Annabelle took it, a buzzing in her ears as she stepped to where Heather 
had stood, then swung the laces, those so seemingly innocuous shoelaces. 
Her aim was nearly as good, some striking his upper thigh where the tips 
scored his firm flesh, then going on to make the young boy tense against 
his bonds, once more tossing side to side in an effort to escape.

When he tired of struggling, Annabelle was ready with the laces, swinging 
them smartly round to catch the side of his balls. His tearful squeal 
confirmed it, filling the room with the sound of his agony.

"Good. Now his cock!" his aunt said with a grin, pulling Annabelle back 
so that she could stand over him, licking her lips as she fastened her 
attention on his rampant young cock.

Annabelle felt herself holding her breath, watching avidly as the woman, 
made tall in her heels and attitude, took careful aim, and then lashed 
out.

The tips of the plastic tipped laces caught his shaft as they were meant 
to and the boy flung himself about in his bonds, screaming and sobbing in 
agony. Only when he'd exhausted himself did Annabelle see the bright 
marks that showed three landing solidly on the side of his shaft, one 
upon the tender head, and two more to have brushed the tender underside 
where the line of their passing grew crimson and bright.

Peter was begging now, working his wrists and ankles in an effort to 
escape the whipping while he sobbed. His cock hardened even more as she 
whipped the laces around again, and once again his pelvis rose, forced up 
by the intense pain rushing into his groin, followed by the throbbing 
aftermath whose ache was so akin to the ache of wanting to come.

"Please!" he whimpered and sobbed towards Annabelle as she stepped 
forward for her turn. Annabelle stopped and quickly shed her uniform top, 
even the camisole.  Her breasts were heavy and firm, nipples distended, 
aching to be touched. They swung with her, and rose as she inhaled 
sharply after landing her first stroke upon his swollen cock. His scream 
and struggles seemed to communicate with her, pouring heat into her 
groin, making her liquid with longing.

Before he'd fully settled she was striking him again, forced to, more by 
her own need than by his, eager to feel her orgasm as he howled in agony 
and saw his squirming within the limits of his bonds. She struck towards 
the tip and gasped her delight as it jerked as much as the rest of him 
did, bright marks blossoming on the ruby crown.

"Now! Blindfold him," Miss Johnson ordered, the woman watching him as she 
undid the laces of her corset.

Annabelle looked around her for something to use and smiled as she chose 
her own silken camisole, turning it over and over until she had a thick 
band that went well around his eyes.

"Now! Gag him," Miss Johnson ordered, stepping from her corset and 
pulling her panties off her legs.

Annabelle took Heather's black panties and grinned wickedly as she turned 
them inside out, wrinkling her nose as she exposed the padded gusset, 
coated with a thick layer of the woman's excitement. 

Mounting the bed on her knees, Annabelle took the boy's nose and, 
pinching it, roughly pushed his aunt's panties into his mouth, pushing 
until all the fabric was jammed into his mouth, until all he could do was 
suck and swallow, suck and swallow, the bobbing of his cock attesting to 
the excitement he felt. 

Annabelle sat down with a rocking of the mattress as she watched his aunt 
return from her open bag with a short riding crop and small little 
leather banded ring.  

Taking a hold of his cock, Heather placed the rings of leather around the 
shaft, doing up the stud fastenings. The lower half of his adolescent 
cock was ringed by slender leather strands, each fastened together by a 
strand that went across each of them, fastened together by a chrome stud 
that stood proud of the whole thing.

Straddling her nephew, she shuffled up the last few inches to his groin 
to poise herself over his waiting cock. Raising it upwards she held it 
beneath her open lipped cunt and looked towards his gagged and 
blindfolded face.

"You had best make sure that you tell me before you spend my boy!" she 
warned. 

Then, holding his cock still, she settled down on it, purring as her full 
bottom cheeks met his thighs and his cock was fully in her cunt.

Annabelle hadn't fully understood the purpose of the leather straps and 
chrome fastenings. But now, listening to Heather's muffled gasp as she 
slid down over each in turn, she understood their purpose and groaned. 

She was mesmerised by the woman as she began to lift and drop herself on 
the quickly gleaming shaft of her young nephew. The movement, and the 
speed, both reminded her of watching riders on horseback, and the image 
took a firmer hold as, beginning to pant, his aunt snapped the riding 
crop backwards, slapping it sharply against his thigh.

Peter jerked and his aunt bit her lip against the groan she would have 
given but instead, she struck again, just as she was descending, and then 
transferred the crop to the other hand to whip the other thigh.

"That's it!" she cried, her bottom rising and falling at a galloping 
gait, her mouth hanging open as she panted with her energy and 
excitement.

On the bed, Peter suddenly screamed in his gag, his torso suddenly 
squirming from side to side.

Heather stopped her riding on his cock to lift herself off of it and, 
holding it pointed away from her, delivered the final strokes with her 
fingers. He spurted violently; the pearly seed landing in streams along 
his chest and all along to his face. Heather wiped the tip of the final 
traces and placed him back at her cunt, sliding down smoothly upon it to 
resume her ride.

Breathless, Annabelle held her hand out. Heather grinned and passed her 
the crop without breaking the rhythm of her ride upon her nephew's cock, 
landing heavily upon him before rising to the very tip of his member, 
before sliding smoothly down upon him again, a lovely impalement.

Annabelle went behind the upwards and downwards rocking woman and 
surveyed the scene. She could see the mouth of her cunt from the back, 
and the gleaming cock appearing and disappearing within the glowing 
entrance. His balls were tight to the base of his cock and were being 
slapped as she descended, her bottom cheeks parting enough to expose her 
dark skinned anal ring.

Shaking off the trance like state that Heather's continued movements 
caused her, Annabelle flicked the crop across his inner thigh and grinned 
with satisfaction as it caused him to lurch upwards, thrusting deeply 
into his aunt's hungry cunt.

With her own sexual tension rising throughout her, Annabelle flicked the 
crop again, then again, each strike producing a bright red mark on his 
soft inner thighs, each strike forcing him to jerk upwards, into his 
aunt.

"Yes, yes!" the woman gasped, nearing her peak.

Annabelle licked her lips and dared to flick the riding crop across the 
woman's bottom as well as the boy's thighs. The woman hissed, right at 
the top of her stroke, then drove down on the lad, burying him totally in 
her cunt.

"Again! Again!" she called, sliding upwards off the gleaming young boy's 
member.

Annabelle, breathless and light-headed, struck again, a sharp cut across 
both proud spheres, a cut to produce a mark, a cut to produce fiery pain.

"Yes!" Heather cried, falling upon her nephew and grinding her crotch 
against him. Her face turned upwards with an expression of bliss and her 
hands gripped the peak of her breasts, squeezing them while she growled 
through her throat and ground her overflowing cunt down upon the young 
boy.

Afraid to breathe or even move, Annabelle watched her slowly rise and 
stretch, her immobile face then breaking into a soft smile that 
encompassed her. "What a clever young girl you are!" she was told, and 
the woman embraced her and kissed her fondly on the cheek.

"Would you like to try? A quick ride to learn what its like perhaps?" 
Heather asked with a soft chuckle.

"May I?" Annabelle blushed.

"Of course! He's here for our amusement, aren't you boy," Heather 
explained.

"Yes Aunty," Peter sobbed.

His aunt brought a moist towel and cleaned the boy of her spending, at 
the same time bringing his flagging cock to aching hardness once more. 
She also removed the slimy wet leather harness, knowing the extra 
sensations would be too much for Annabelle's inexperienced cunt to cope 
with yet.

Annabelle, feeling less energetic that his aunt, chose to face the boy's 
feet and sat on his belly with her thighs raised and out, and cautiously 
guided his cock into her cunt.

Breathless with the thought of finally being fucked by a real cock, 
Annabelle gasped softly as the cock head met the entrance to her cunt, 
then slid slowly downwards, whimpering and panting as she fed more and 
more of it into her body.

In moments he was fully inside her, each throb and jerk of his member 
bringing an answering tightening of her passage. For the very first time 
she was fully impaled by a real pulsing cock, and the realisation had her 
squeezing her vulva and coming with a sharp inward explosion.

As it ebbed, leaving her breathless, she began to ride, a gasp escaping 
her as she felt the sharp sensations storm into her body. Swallowing and 
panting, she kept moving, the sharp sensations dwindling to a feeling of 
building euphoria the more she rose and fell on the boy's slippery cock.

She whimpered with need, rising and falling urgently. She wanted it 
thicker now, thicker and longer and moaned because it wasn't stretching 
her. Sobbing with her need she crouched forward to feel more friction and 
jumped eagerly up and down on him, no longer conscious of anything other 
than her need to come off on this burning cock.

Working hard, her body gleaming with her perspiration, she drove once 
more down on him, twisting to feel the harsh friction against her tender 
vaginal walls, and the trigger to her orgasm was flicked. 

Her body suddenly stiffened and her head was driven back as she exploded 
within, colours and sensations battling round each other while her cunt 
tensed for long moments, then opened to deliver her wet essence. 

Annabelle grinned, proud to say that she was no longer a virgin in any 
orifice.

"Come on! What would you like to do next?" Miss Johnson chuckled.

Annabelle grinned and licked her lips. The rest of the afternoon was 
going to be such fun.

******

It was the end of her first week at The Wessex Hotel and Annabelle gazed 
out of the window of the train as it pulled away from London on its way 
to Corydon. She wasn't thinking so much about how much she'd learnt and 
how much it had changed her, as to whether those changes would be noted 
by her parents or not. 

There was more underwear in her luggage than when she left home, silk 
knickers, thongs that left her bottom gloriously bare, camisole tops that 
let her breasts swing, and sheer fabric that kept her nipples awake. She 
had also brought her toy snake with her, to comfort her at night.

What would her mother say, she wondered, recalling the fitting that 
morning of her leather bustier. She smiled at the memory of Mr Meredith's 
adoring eyes and the touches of his hands on her firm young breasts, and 
chewed her lip, worried at what the weekend at home might uncover. 

She hadn't minded getting down on her knees in front of him and 
uncovering his cock. She had liked the smell and the texture of the thick 
shaft. She had also enjoyed pulling the uncut glands back from his cock 
head and, a little later, loved the strong and manly taste of it in her 
mouth. 

He had come quickly and powerfully, crying out as he shot his first 
powerful jet of sperm against the back of her mouth. She had more keenly 
felt the power she had over men then, that her hand and mouth could 
stimulate him, then leave him limp and exhausted, so quickly and easily 
sated. His eyes had been even more adoring when she had stood again, 
noticing that she was an inch taller than him.

Home was a semi-detached house in the suburbs, three bedrooms, a garage 
and a large garden to the rear. She arrived mid afternoon, her parents 
opening the door before she had even got half way up the front path. Her 
mother hugged her tightly while her father beamed in the background. 

"I'll take your luggage," her father said, lifted it as if it weighed 
nothing, and then taking it up stairs while Annabelle and her mother 
followed, talking about work, how she was settling in, how kind they all 
were, how nice her room was, and yes, she'd been eating plenty.

"You look a little thinner," her mother remarked, looking at Annabelle 
more critically, now they were in the better light of the bedroom.

"Mum, I'm fine, really," Annabelle, told her.

"Don't you think she looks a little thinner Ted?" Her mother asked her 
father.

"Seems to have done her good Angela," he answered, grinning then when 
Annabelle blushed. "I'll put the kettle on," he offered and hurried off, 
leaving the two women on their own.

Her mother, all business-like, pulled Annabelle's bag round and undid the 
lid, opening it to begin pulling the clothes out. Jeans and blouses were 
pulled out and laid to one side for washing while, Annabelle, sitting on 
the bed, tried concentrating on their conversation and not the uncovering 
of her underwear.

It was an agony of waiting, and then the first piece was pulled out, one 
of the camisole tops that she now preferred wearing to bras. In the 
silence that had occurred as she raised it, her mother held it up and 
starred. She said nothing, adding it to the washing pile before lifting 
out a pair of thongs, the gusset narrow enough to part her cunt lips when 
she was excited.

"You seem to have a whole new wardrobe of underwear Annabelle," her 
mother told her with a chuckle, holding up the French cut panties.
 
"Surely there not needed for the job?" she asked.

"Oh no, of course not Mummy!" Annabelle gasped, her face burning. "Just, 
I met up with Jane the previous holder of the job. She said everyone 
wears them," she explained, her voice trailing off as the leather bustier 
was raised and turned about.

"Well, well! What's this then?" her father asked from the door. He 
stepped in carrying a tray of mugs.

"Annabelle has grown up," Angela told her husband, showing him the soft 
leather garment with the half cups that would hold her breasts, a gentle 
hold that would allow her nipples to be lifted free when wanted.

Annabelle blushed more brightly as her father took it and seemingly 
admired the careful leatherwork. "Been a while since I've seen 
leatherwork this good," he nodded.

Annabelle hid her face behind her mug, sipping the sweet liquid and 
hoping the moment would pass. Instead, her father came round and picked 
up another of her things, lifting it by the narrow back to have it hang 
between them, the front panel still moulded round by the ghost of her 
pubis, the gusset crushed by her crotch.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything quite this small," he remarked.

"Daddy!" Annabelle complained, her hand flashing out to sweep them from 
his hand.

He chuckled and lifted the others; the French knickers that were quite 
the opposite of the thongs, cut to fully enclose her lovely bottom.

"Daddy! You're not meant to go through your daughter's underwear!" 
Annabelle told him, gathering them all together. He chuckled and stepped 
back to the windowsill where he could lean back and watch.

"So what else have you been doing?" Angela asked her daughter, putting 
the case on the floor and removing the dirty laundry to the chair for 
taking down later.

"Oh! Nothing much," Annabelle admitted. "After a day of work I wasn't 
ever in the mood to go out," she explained. 

"But they're training you well, aren't they darling?" her father asked 
from his perch on her windowsill.

Annabelle tried hiding the burning of her cheeks as she once again felt 
herself on her knees in front of Mr Selby, his hands holding her head to 
his groin while his cock spurted his fishy gruel into her mouth. 

"Training?" she asked dumbly, recalling the rubber cock sliding into her 
bottom, the long slide that had her squealing into the mattress as she 
succumbed for the first time to being buggered, and Peter's cock deep in 
her cunt, her first time, and one she knew would just have to be repeated 
often.

"Yes, you know, that of the guest liaison representative," he asked, his 
voice returning her to the real world.

"Oh yes! I've been spending a lot of time on reception," she explained, 
when I wasn't doing something quite disgusting to one of the guests or 
their children, she muttered to herself.

"Stop badgering the poor girl. Go find something to do and she can tell 
us all she's learnt after dinner," Angela told her husband. He smiled 
good-naturedly and took his tea away with him, a moment later appearing 
in the back garden as he made his way to his workshop in the shed.

"Does he miss work?" Annabelle asked her mother, watching him unlock the 
padlock and shuffle into the small shed.

"No! Not as much as he used to. He makes the odd piece of furniture now 
and then, for an exclusive London shop," her mother replied gathered up 
all the dirty washing.

Annabelle nodded. She had guessed her parents were financially secure 
after the redundancy package her father had received, but she had often 
wondered how her father would manage, no longer having to work each day.

She followed her mother into the kitchen and they chatted aimlessly. 
There was dinner to prepare and her mother had bought steak especially, 
one of Annabelle's favourites.

"So, what does dad make?" she asked, standing by the back window and 
preparing the carrots for her mother.

"Furniture! Chairs and stools and the like," her mother answered as she 
prepared the meat with fresh broken peppercorns.

Thoughts of the stools in the hotel sprung to mind. Stopping her cutting 
for a moment she wondered if it would always be this way; her 
conversations sparking memories of her other life, of helping mothers 
teach and punish their children, of taking parents to shops where their 
children can learn to ride, be fitted in extreme clothing, or given toys 
designed to force open their little orifices.

"A penny for your thoughts," her mother said, smiling when her daughter 
shook herself back to the present.

"Oh! I was thinking how nice it is to be home," she grinned.

Dinner was at six. Always had been and probably always would be. The 
peppered steak was delicious and Annabelle complemented her mother on it, 
enjoying it to the full. After, there was a little ice cream, then coffee 
in the lounge with the telly kept off.

It was a moment of stillness after a whole week of activity and Annabelle 
found it particularly restful. Yet, as the silence and stillness 
continued, Annabelle found herself purposefully recalling events over her 
first week, things that had shocked her at the time, and later excited 
her. 

It also occurred to her that she would have the whole of the weekend 
devoid of that excitement and that she would have to be her parents 
little girl again, fresh from school and totally innocent.

"So what did you make today Ted?" Angela asked her husband as she picked 
up her knitting and consulted the pattern she was doing.

"Oh! Just one of those stools, you know the ones I've been making for 
years," he shrugged. 

Just thinking of the stool in her room and its purpose made Annabelle 
smile.

"I don't think that our Annabelle has seen the furniture you make Ted. 
Why don't you take her to your workshop and show her," Angela suggested.

"As it happens I've got one just outside, ready to send off to the shop," 
he admitted, rising to get it.

Annabelle schooled her imagination and pictured a more normal stool, one 
with four wooden legs and a braided rope seat perhaps, or the three 
legged variety with a padded seat. Her father soon returned, carrying a 
fabric-covered stool exactly like the one in her room, and like the ones 
she had seen at Barker's.

"There!" he said proudly with a smile. "Do you like it?" he asked.

Annabelle nodded, her heart hammering, dying to reach out to see if there 
was a hidden clasp at one end that would let the top be taken off and 
would uncover a different type of seat. Of course, there wouldn't be, she 
knew and yet she felt the urgent need to verify that.

She rose and approached the stool, kneeling to reach for where the 
fastening would have been. With a sigh of relief she felt nothing, just 
upholstery over a wooden frame, and she sighed with relief. 

Surely she thought her father wouldn't have been making stools for 
Barker's.

"It's lovely dad. Very professional," she told him, her hands sliding 
along the sides, as if just idly feeling the quality of the make.

Her father beamed proudly.

"Show her the secret bit," her mother urged.

Ted knelt beside his daughter and swivelled it round, then reached along 
the edges to press a hidden catch and lift the top off. Annabelle stared 
at the empty hole aware of its true purpose and blushed.

"See? It's a commode as well!" he told her with a chuckle.

"Isn't that clever?" her mother asked.

"Very!" Annabelle answered, her mind jumping from one thing to another, 
refusing to focus on what her parents knew, or didn't know. Her heart 
hammered and her cheeks glowed. 

She tried breathing deeply, but it didn't help.

"I guess another company provide the commodes," Ted chuckled, his eyes 
turning on her.

"Now Ted! You know very well they sell them without. And you know too, 
don't you darling?" her mother asked with a smile. Annabelle swallowed 
and wondered what to say. Deny it, deny it, a little voice cried deep 
within her. How, how could they possibly know, cried another.

"Stand up!" her mother ordered. 

Annabelle did so, feeling herself begin to tremble as she stood and 
turned to face her.

"There is something else. You see it was your father's idea that we 
should get you a job at the Wessex Hotel," her mother explained. 
Annabelle's mouth opened in shock surprise.

"You knew about the job?" she asked.

"Mr Selby is a friend of ours," her mother explained with a smile.

Annabelle stared from her mother to her father, shocked, horrified, 
astonished and terrified all at the same time. Unable to look at her 
parents she stared at the walls, trying to fathom a way forward, trying 
to understand just how much her parents knew about what went on there.

"Annabelle! Stop shaking and stand up straight, her mother's voice 
called.

"I can't believe that you knew all along!" Annabelle cried, close to 
tears as humiliation surged over her.

"Stop it!" her mother spat, a fiery look in her eyes. "You've done very 
well so far, much better than we had hoped," her mother continued.

"But why!" Annabelle wailed, tears beginning to slide from her eyes. 

Angela sighed and looked compassionately towards her daughter. 

"Well! Because we wanted you to share our special love, and we were 
afraid to begin your training ourselves, in case you didn't like it and 
turned against us," she said, explaining as best she could.

Annabelle sniffed and thought on what she'd heard. 

"You know about,,," she couldn't think where to begin and she blushed 
instead, at all that she'd done.

"We actually know very little. But we know most of the people you've met, 
so we can read between the lines," her father told her with an easy 
chuckle. Annabelle blushed more brilliantly and faced her mother again.

"So! Why don't you go up and bathe and prepare yourself for us," her 
mother told her, her expression telling Annabelle she knew Annabelle 
would understand. There was a grin on her mother's face that belied 
understanding and a look in her eyes as they slid down Annabelle's 
slender form that made her breath quicken.

Annabelle did and felt her heart pound. Her parents were about to use her 
like the guests had. Her breath was rushing away from her, her skin 
burning hotly.

******

Refreshed by her shower, Annabelle dried herself before applying a light 
and fragrant oil to her body. Watching herself in the mirror she reached 
back and anointed her genitals, bending forward to help ease her 
lubricated finger and then drew a large bath towel around herself and 
descended the stairs slowly.

It felt strange to be approaching her parents, ready to be sexually 
abused by them and yet she couldn't think of it as such. Her cunt was wet 
and slippery, and not from the bathwater and her stomach was tight and 
rippled anxiously as she tapped on the lounge door, then entered.

A table lamp cast a dim glow across the room, a subdued light that 
matched the mood as Annabelle's mother sat back, half undressed, her legs 
spread to allow her husband licking access to her bald crotch.

Annabelle stared. She'd never imagined her mother naked, nor even half 
naked, and there she was, a bra holding her large breasts from falling, a 
rotund belly hanging over her pubis, a pubis shorn of hair. 

Her father was naked but half his body hidden by his position between his 
wife's thighs. His back was hairy, something oddly remembered from when 
they'd gone to the beach with him as a child. His head rose and fell as 
he stroked her mother with the same long lick reserved for ice cream 
cones.

"Ah, there you are. We couldn't wait," her mother told her, half grinning 
as she panted beneath her husband's tonguing.

Annabelle stepped forward, watching her father lap at her mother, her 
cunt now yearning for the same avid attention.

"Annabelle! Would you like your father to attend to you?" her mother 
asked.

Annabelle sobbed as the thought sent a stab of excitement into her womb. 
Her mother raised a stout thigh, bending it so she could watch her 
father's tongue slide between the unfurled lips of her mother's cunt, 
flicking the stubby hood at the apex. And she watched her daughter, 
purring as the tongue descended and wormed into her cunt.

"Take off the towel and come and kneel next to me on the settee," her 
mother told her.

Annabelle licked her lips and obeyed, blushing coyly as she dropped the 
towel and let her mother see her naked. Breathless, she hurried into 
position, her knees on the front edge of the settee with her thighs 
widely parted, her body bent forward to rest her arms along the back.

Standing up, her father moved into position and then knelt behind 
Annabelle to admire the fully fleshed lips of her succulent cunt, labia 
firm and smooth, her lovely bottom parted enough to hint at the dark tone 
of her anus.

"Lick her!" Angela called.

Ted scampered up between Annabelle's parted thighs and thrust his face 
against her, burying his nose between the cheeks of her bottom and 
pressing his open mouth to the spreading lips of her cunt. Annabelle 
gasped with the quickness of the assault, then lost her breath as her 
father's tongue shot deep into her, licking feverishly at her sweet young 
juice.

"Let him taste your bottom too," her mother, urged.

Annabelle sobbed and dropped her head onto her arms, shaking 
uncontrollably as the tongue licked and lapped at her seeping source. 
With a sob she obeyed and pushed down onto his mouth, despite the 
electric sensations that shot up from her cunt when she did so. Now the 
tongue slid back and licked her anal rosette, bringing about another 
source of pleasure to the young girl.

"Yes, in, in," Annabelle panted, her eyes fluttering as she recalled Miss 
Sharp's tongue doing the same.

The tongue obeyed, stiffening and wriggling, twirling about and lathering 
her with saliva. Then it moved down to twirl between her hanging labia, 
swollen and heavy between her thighs. It caressed her clitoris hood; it 
wriggled at her urethra and then dived deeply into her cunt, avidly 
sucking her wetness from her.

"Oh! She's definitely ready," Annabelle heard her mother say to him 
beyond the roaring in her ears. Hands encompassed her bottom, pulling her 
cheeks apart, and her father's mouth more fully covered her, his meaty 
tongue pushing into her.

The deep swirling sensation, so distinct and different, caught her breath 
and angled he body outward, eager for more. Someone chuckled and made her 
burn. The tongue swirled and licked, making her pant and push back, 
making her open her anus to further defilement.

"They've taught her well, haven't they?" her mother murmured.

"Mm," her father said, his voice reverberating up her loins.

"Please!" Annabelle gasped, reaching under herself and using two fingers 
to pull her full vulva apart, leaving her clitoris and hood standing 
between her thighs, totally vulnerable.

Like a bee to the flower, her father's mouth was there, his breath 
inadequately warning her of what was to come. In a moment his mouth had 
opened around the exposed morsel and closed over it. Another second and 
the suction began, pulling blood into her already swollen and sensitive 
flesh. Then his tongue flickered out, running across her flesh without 
thought for her tenderness.

The resulting sensations shot into her, stiffening her torso a moment 
before her cry of bursting pleasure was torn from her. His lapping didn't 
stop, each slide of the tongue along the side of her clit hood bringing 
fresh waves of delight crashing down on her. 

She was swirled among vivid colours in an agony of orgasms, and then was 
left to float within a cocoon of warmth, unaware of her parents looking 
down at her with something more than parental love.

******
		
A blinking of her eyes and she saw that she was now on the settee, lying 
along it with her mother cradling her head in her lap and her father 
seated on the stool watching them.

He smiled at her. "You've got such a tight little cunt," he told her.

Annabelle blushed and rose, then looked enquiringly towards her mother.

"Have they taught you fully?" her mother asked.

Annabelle blushed and coyly hung her hair.

"Yes, I think so," she murmured. 

"You've learnt to suck?" her mother asked her.

Annabelle nodded, seeing where the conversation was heading and licked 
her lips, afraid to so much as glance at her father just in case seeing 
him brought her on again. Keeping her eyes on her mother, she tried 
keeping her breathing normal as her mother then turned to her father in 
open invitation for him to step forward.

"Your father first," her mother said. "Then me," she added, smiling 
maternally towards her, a hand reaching out to help turn her towards her 
standing father.

Her breath quickening she turned to face him. Her head was a little 
higher than his cock, but not so high that she could escape its presence, 
pointing up at her from under his overweight belly, darkly veined and 
rising from a shaven pubis.

He held it for her, pointing the head towards her mouth, the foreskin 
half drawn from the tender tip. His other hand was laid gently behind her 
head to draw her forward, onto the tip.

Annabelle moistened her lips with the drop of dew at its tip, and then 
accepted it into her mouth. Her father's cock she thought, and was jerked 
by the thrill of a short sharp orgasm powering its way through her. 

Eyes wide she let her head be pulled closer. She inhaled his manly scent, 
and then bathed the head of his cock in saliva before using her tongue to 
slide it over him. Finally, her mouth full of his tangy flavour, she 
swallowed.

"Good girl!" he panted, both hands in her hair now as he began to move 
her head back and forth.

Annabelle compressed her lips around the hot and hard shaft and licked 
under the foreskin, dragging her father's strong taste from him to fill 
her mouth with it before swallowing again. More and more of his cock was 
thrust into her mouth and dragged across her lips.  

She had learnt to swallow as he withdrew, and lick as he thrust. Her eyes 
turned upwards and stared at the avid excitement on her father's face. He 
looked down and sobbed, his cock convulsing a moment before he thrust it 
deep into her mouth and spurted.

Gripping her father's thighs, Annabelle fought to control her gagging 
reflexes, letting spurt after spurt flow down her gullet before his hands 
let her pull away and urgently gasp for air. She swallowed and wiped her 
chin, then stared at her wilting father, watching his cock shrink and 
knowing she had achieved it.

"Come here!" her mother ordered, one foot raised whilst three fingers of 
each hand hooked her meaty labia apart and drew her slit completely open.

Annabelle groaned and slid down onto the floor to crawl towards her 
mother's open cunt, her vagina pouting, and opening as if to receive 
Annabelle back into her womb. She dropped her head to her mother's crotch 
and licked the strongly flavoured wetness that seeped from her open hole, 
stabbing her tongue inwards to get as much as possible. Then her tongue 
was at her urethra, pressing against it with the point to hear her 
mother's gasp rapidly quicken.

Gazing at the succulent cunt in front of her, Annabelle licked and 
sucked, her hands replacing those of her mother to pull and stretch flesh 
apart, then dive into the uncovered holes.  

Her mother sank down, her thick thighs spreading further apart and 
Annabelle tasted a new sweetness to the flesh. She worked harder, her 
nose rubbing the inflamed clitoris above her slit, and pulled harder. 
Hands gripped the back of her head and pulled her into the wet maw in 
front of her. 

Unable to do anything else, she began to chew on the flesh beneath her 
mouth, pulling with her teeth until thighs closed and clamped her head 
and a hot liquid was squirted across her chin and mouth, salty, sweet and 
hot.

"That was nice," Annabelle's mother said, smiling kindly towards her 
daughter while her father smiled proudly from nearby, his cock still soft 
and wilted.

"They've certainly taught her how to use your mouth," her mother said, 
smiling contentedly.

Annabelle blushed, still unused to having her parent's complementing her 
on her sexual ability. Incest had always seemed such a taboo, and yet, 
now seated naked beside her parents, she could only welcome the change 
and wonder what was in store for her next. 

With warming cheeks, Annabelle glanced at her father's cock and thought 
of him sliding into her bottom. It brought a tingle to her crotch, 
filling her slit with hot, slippery wetness. 

Her breath quickened with the thought of the stretching and the view 
she'd be giving him, bent over, her own hands holding her bottom cheeks 
wide apart. She felt strangely disappointed, the thought of having her 
father inside her giving her a strange and illicit excitement she would 
have liked to prolong.

She stood and walked across to him, wondering if she could revive him 
with her mouth, or possibly be really naughty and play with herself in 
front of him. Her cunt tingled at the thought, a warmth in the pit of her 
stomach ready to make herself slippery just as soon as she touched 
herself.

Her father looked at her avidly, a look of hunger on his face. Annabelle 
gazed down at him and saw his cock jerk, thickening and lengthening 
slightly while he gazed at her crotch.

"Now! Get over the stool," he told her.

Annabelle whimpered under his stern command. His cock rampant again, she 
draped herself over the stool, pushing herself well over the front so her 
bottom was lifted, and her thighs parted.

Hands, large enough to completely cup her bottom cheeks and rough from 
years of hard work took hold of her, easily pealing cheek from cheek to 
leave her fully exposed and breathless. Cool air moved over her exposed 
anus and vagina, to be blown aside by her father's lowering mouth.

Annabelle squealed, her eyes wide, as the tongue went straight to her 
anal ring, pushing deep into her to wriggle within before darting out 
again and leaving her breathless.

Again and again it drove into her, wriggled and departed. Growing used to 
it, she pushed back to meet it, gasping as she relaxed to let him drive 
deeper into her and sobbing as the fluttering of his tongue caused the 
same in her belly.  

Occasionally the tongue drove lower and Annabelle squealed as the 
sensitive mouth to her vagina received the same treatment, his tongue 
capturing her weeping sweetness before retuning to lather her anus.

"That's it! Do her. Do her grand!" Annabelle heard her mother cry. A 
glance to her side and she could see her mother there, squatting with her 
thighs stretched wide apart, her fingers forming a steeple that she 
thrust repeated up against the wet mouth of her cunt.

Annabelle clutched the stool and chewed her lower lip, her nose flaring 
as the hot head of her father's cock came to push against her anus. She 
relaxed the way that Miss Sharp had taught her, willing herself to spread 
under his assault. The pressure grew, pushing relentlessly. A whine 
escaped her as she fought not to be pushed away from him and then with a 
suddenness that took her breath, he was in her.

Annabelle sobbed as her father's burning cock drove into her entrails, 
filling her with his hot and pulsing shaft, filling her for the first 
time with a true manly cock. He throbbed for long moments, fully enclosed 
within her bottom, and then began moving.

His sliding was not the smooth pull and push Miss Sharp had used on her 
with her tools. Instead, it was that of a man getting the most pleasure 
of his daughter's upturned bottom; thrusting hard to feel the tight pull 
of her anal ring around his glands, diving deep into her burning rectum, 
then drawing slowly outward, delighting in the slow drag of her stretched 
ring.  

The gasp of feeling him thrust into her was quickly followed by a panting 
recovery of her breath while he waited a moment, delighting in the feel 
of her anus working, accommodating itself to him. Then a high pitched 
keen she couldn't suppress as she felt him draw slowly outward, pulling 
at her entrails, drawing her anus outward.

Her mother was there, stroking her hair and squeezing her taut young 
breasts.  Her twisted nipples caused a sharp and painful counterpoint to 
the surge of her father's manhood in her bottom and, together, they 
swelled her excitement, building it patiently and slowly, lifting it 
until Annabelle was sobbing with want.

"Are you ready Ted? Are you, are you?" Angela asked her husband, smiling 
at him over the arched form of their daughter's back.

"Oh yes!" he gasped, his cock once more pressing into his daughter's 
bottom, sliding up her rear to where she seemed to clench it as it pulsed 
and jerked within her.

"Just a couple more strokes," Angela told him reaching under Annabelle's 
chest to feel for the hard buttons of her nubile nipples and, taking 
them, waited for him to deliver the last two strokes, then pinched the 
lovely little buds, doing so with as much force as she could muster.

Annabelle, her excitement pumped up to new heights by her father's 
quickening lunges into her bottom, felt the new sensation flood her 
breasts. Lost to what was pain or pleasure, it released her orgasm, 
unleashing a maelstrom of fierce exaltation throughout her young form.

Her young body was suddenly stretched and arched. Muscles tensed as the 
pleasure peek drove through her. She flayed and screamed in an agony of 
pleasure, on and on, oblivious to her father holding onto her hips, 
holding her onto him as he jettisoned his sperm deep into her rippling 
colon.

******

Annabelle awoke in a bed that was not her own, and yet it was soft, warm 
and comfortable. Still half asleep she stretched, first feeling the 
cotton against her naked nipples, the sensation reminding her of her 
mother's touch, then felt the warm skin of two others, one on each side 
of her.

With a gasp she opened her eyes, and then slowly settled as she realised 
it was her parents, both still asleep. It was her parent's bed, and the 
room was in semi-darkness, Annabelle having woken at the time she would 
have done had she been at work.

There was an ache in her bottom to remind her of the hard pounding it had 
taken, an inescapable sensation that made her squirm and wonder if there 
was a salve or whether just a repeat would ease it. She looked towards 
her father and smiled fondly at the sleeping man, recalling vividly the 
feel of him entering her for the first time, then his on-going assault, 
each stroke lifting her to an ever-greater pleasure.  

Would it always be so, she wondered, or would she grow used to having her 
bottom taken? Should she limit how often she allowed herself to be taken 
anally, just to ensure those incredible orgasms continued?

Her mother stirred and Annabelle turned towards her, watching as the 
woman slowly awoke, fluttering her eyes and then smiling at her daughter.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

Annabelle smiled. "A bit sore," she admitted. "But not so sore daddy 
couldn't do it again, if he wanted to," she added, blushing brightly as 
she admitted to her enjoyment of it.

Her mother chuckled and stroked Annabelle's hair. Oh, the times she had 
wished that Annabelle would one day join them in their bed, rejuvenating 
their own jaded sex life and giving it new vitality. And now, here she 
was, so loving and eager, so willing to participate in everything.

"Would you like to wake mummy up properly?" she asked.

Annabelle smiled, knowing what her mother meant. Lifting the covers, she 
drew down under them, welcoming the warm darkness as her hands reached 
out for her mother's body. She found naked skin, warm and smooth, a soft 
breast half flattened against gravity, the nipple thick and stiff.

Her hands slid onwards with her body, crouching towards the bottom of the 
bed while her mother lifted and separated her thighs, lying back and 
waiting, her cunt poised for welcoming Annabelle's mouth and hands.

In complete darkness, Annabelle found a meaty thigh and followed it 
upwards, along the thickening column, to the warm and damp crease. Her 
lips followed, grazing the forgiving flesh and inhaling the heady perfume 
that was distinctly female and mature.

Her fingers brushed the thick labia of her mother's cunt and were smeared 
with the thick wetness waiting for her. So, lovingly holding her mother's 
thighs apart, Annabelle blindly slid her mouth onto her mother's love 
nest and lovingly wriggled her tongue through the open gulf.

A gasp of pleasure sounded from above and her mother's crotch rose to 
meet her playing tongue. Annabelle's soft exploratory licking became a 
firm lapping of her slit, each stroke bringing an eager quiver and sob 
from her mother. Each lap began low, teasing her mother's clenched 
buttocks before sliding up to the mouth of her cunt for the most recent 
wetness, then slipping on upwards, finally rasping the hood of her clit 
bringing a loud sob from the woman.

The mattress moved as Annabelle's father wakened and shifted. The 
mattress rose slightly as he crept from the bed.

Annabelle added a finger to her efforts, slipping it inwards while she 
licked around the swollen hood. She entered a fluid cunt, burning into 
her digit, and added a second digit. Her mother's cunt opened to her, her 
legs levering her cunt upwards. Licking furiously, Annabelle added her 
thumb to create a steeple of three digits that pushed into her mother, 
and then pumped her wetness while her tongue thrashed the head of the 
clitoris.

The foot of the duvet rose and was folded over, uncovering Annabelle, 
crouched at the bottom of the bed working on her mother. While she 
continued to furiously lick and firmly pump her mother's cunt, her father 
pulled her thighs out from under her and rearranged her until her pretty 
little gleaming cunt was uncovered from between her thighs.

Angela came, and her rising crotch hit Annabelle in the nose and 
dislodged her working fingers, allowing a wash of wetness to flow from 
her. Her hands wrapped themselves in Annabelle's hair, keeping her buried 
in her mother's crotch, vainly trying to lick and suck on her sweet flesh 
while she gyrated beneath her.

Behind her, her father petted her sex mouth with two fingers and licked 
the sweet wetness he'd obtained as a result. His cock was ready, if not 
more than ready, stretched and hard. Pushing it down he fitted it snugly 
to the mouth of her little cunt, and then surged inwards, smiling when it 
brought a loud squeal from her.

"Do you like your daddy fucking you?" he asked, admiring her slender back 
and watching her grip her mother's spread thighs as he thrust yet again, 
edging just that little bit deeper into her young cunt.

"Daaaadddyyyy!" Annabelle wailed, coming on the lovely hot hardness 
sliding inside her. 

Her father grunted and worked harder, twisting his loins to attack her 
hot wet and tight little hole from different angles.

Annabelle squealed, one orgasm coming after another, her feet kicking the 
carpet as fireworks went off inside her.

"Ah yessss!" he gasped, his own release coming upon him. A vasectomy many 
years before ensuring he couldn't cause a pregnancy, he drove his cock to 
the roof of her vaginal passage and jerked and sobbed with each powerful 
jet of sperm that he delivered, his daughter squealing as she entered the 
last of her pleasure spikes.

******

Annabelle strode confidently through the hotel that Monday morning, 
smiling and nodding to those she past as she made for the reception where 
Mr Selby and Alan were working to reduce the queue of quests wanting to 
book in and out.

What a difference a week makes, she thought, no longer thinking about the 
high heels she wore. She moved behind the desk and smiled at the next 
quests in the queue, parents holding their young daughter close to them.

"Good Morning. I'm John Glade. You have a reservation for us?" he asked.

Annabelle smiled and held the card up to look at the details. 

"Yes! A suite on the forth floor," she acknowledged, reading the 
reservation slip and licking her lips. 

She glanced at the daughter, a very pretty child of eleven or thereabouts 
and noted that they had requested that one of the special saddles be made 
available for her in the suite. 

She took down the key and past him the registration form to complete.

"Is the special equipment I ordered for my daughter there?" he asked 
softly.

"Yes Sir," Mr Selby smiled. 

She wished she'd known that the Wessex Hotel had a stock of equipment to 
lend to quests. Perhaps if she spoke to Mr Selby he would allow her to 
have some in her room occasionally. She blushed warmly at the thought of 
everyone knowing what was in her room and passed the key to the man 
before her.

"Room 403," she told him. "I'm the guest liaison representative, so if 
you need any help, any help with the equipment or perhaps your daughter's 
riding lessons, then don't hesitate to ask me," she told him with a 
marked confidence, her eyes willing him to understand just how much she 
would love to be of service to them and their pretty little daughter.

Mr Glade smiled. 

"I might just do that," he replied, his eyes sliding over her lovely 
young form before moving off, his family in tow.