Robert Taylor: Whipped bitch

"You're new," he said. "May I ask your name?"

"Janey, sir."

"Well, Janey, you're a lovely thing and we're happy to have you as our Ribbon Girl."

She choked on the next words. "Thank you, sir."

The return to Barbara's station was no easier, a thousand eyes boring at her like spotlights, watching every bob and toss of her breasts. And the ribbons, were they covering her behind, her pussy? She could not guess from the feel for they slithered about with her movements, feathery, as light as currents of air.

"Three Scotch on the rocks and two old fashioneds," she gasped to Barbara.

The girl patted her hand. "Very good, sweetheart. And you looked adorable going out there. What a sexy walk!"

Sexy? Janey had thought her progress was a stumbling, shambling stagger.

"Now, Janey, I'll take care of their bill. You go to the bar for the drinks. There to the left, the Ribbon Girls' counter."

Again she left the alcove, heart hammering, face burning as she walked to the bar. She knew her breasts were as big as those of any ribbon or Apron Girl present, maybe the largest. They had been her pride, and she gritted her teeth and told herself, I have beautiful big boobs, I'll show them off the way Barbara does hers! Also, she felt sure that the slithering ribbons were spilling off and baring a buttock from time to time.

A boy she'd once had a hot affair with, Petey, used to call her Miss Tits and Ass.

The blond boy took her order, turned away swiftly and seized bottles from the shelf. In her confused state, she saw him as a blur but she did note that his broad chest was utterly hairless, and the crotch bulge in his black leotards appeared to be the size of a grapefruit.

As he loaded a tray with drinks, he leered at her breasts. He had red lips, a cupid's bow; lips a girl might envy, and which Janey did not quite like. His green eyes glinted. Cold!

"I'm Burt."

She hesitated, then mumbled, "Janey."

Staring at her breasts, he smiled. "Some jugs!"

Janey glowered at him. She could not help it. All her resentment, her fury at Orvil and the anguish of being whipped by Mrs. Claymore welled up in her and she stared daggers at him.

"If you like them, suck them!"

He drew back, surprised. Then an eyebrow rose sharply. "I guess you didn't know. So I'll tell you once. I'm apron."

Apron. She felt sure that meant he had whip rights.

"I didn't know," she choked.

"Sir," he snarled. "You call me sir. And Mr. Burt. You understand, cunt?"

"Yes!" Hurriedly she added, "Sir! Yes, sir. Mr. Burt."

"Then get going with these drinks. And if you spill any, you clumsy cunt, tonight I'll whip your ass bloody!"

Shaking with fear, she seized the tray of drinks and started back.

Perhaps Barbara had observed the incident, for she welcomed Janey back with the warmest of smiles and a caress on her back. "Sweetheart, our shift only lasts another hour. By then you'll have learned that it's all so easy."

Delivering the tray of drinks did seem easier, though when she leaned over the table, she saw her breasts hanging outward. A flush burned her eyes, down her throat, even washed pinkly over her tits.

"Five more minutes," Barbara said as Janey walked back to the alcove. "Then you and I will go to bed."

Janey's heart was hammering. Despite her experience with Marcia back home, lesbianism seemed foreign. Men, boys mostly, had been her sex objects, and her most satisfying orgasms had been when her cunt was filled by a good hard prick.

During the five-minute wait, her gaze washed over the Apron Girl. Barbara the beautiful, with her velvety black eyes, her glossy hair, her high, round breasts and long, long legs. Janey gazed with awe, a little fear, and much thankfulness for Barbara's sweet kindness. And something changed inside her.

But had Barbara meant they would go to bed together.

Midnight. Barbara turned her accounts over to another Apron Girl. Then she signaled to Janey to follow.

Heart thumping, completely indifferent now to clients' staring eyes, she followed the other out of the club to the Ribbon Girls' lounge, and through to the curving hall.

Barbara seemed headed for number six, Janey's room.

Trembling with excitement, Janey's gaze was fixed on the Apron Girl's bobbing, lush buttocks.

Janey's mouth watered. As they reached number six, she glimpsed an object in Barbara's right hand.

A coiled-up ribbon-girl whip.

The door swung closed behind them. Barbara went to the table and poured some wine. "This is sweet and heavy, you'll like it."

She had laid the whip down beside the tray. She handed a glass to Janey, raised her own in a silent toast, and took a sip, after which Janey felt free to try it.

Sweet, yes. And warming.

Barbara's velvety eyes met hers. "Darling, what do you think of me?"

Janey looked away, blushing. "I think – you're wonderful – Barbara. I mean, Miss Barbara!"

"How prettily you blush!"

Janey bit her lip. "I've never felt – about a girl – I mean you're so gorgeous and strong, and kind. And…"

"Sexy? I do hope I'm sexy."

Janey could not look at her. She nodded, trying to swallow a lump in her throat. "I've never. Other girls… well there was one but… just one… kind of brief."

"How charming you are, sweetheart. Come, give me a kiss."

She took Janey's hand and drew her close. Blushing furiously, she still looked away when fingers touched her chin, and she was gazing into the other's eyes.

Their breasts touched. A jolt! Twin jolts, Janey's nipples prickling into soft flesh, growing, hardening, pulsing!

Then Barbara kissed her. Ups fluttered on Janey's. They felt creamy soft, slick.

The kiss flowed down her body, seeming to make her breasts swell, traveled lower and pulled at her vagina. Oh, that soft, sweet, urgent pull!

But her legs were sagging. She felt weak all over, and would have fallen if Barbara's warm arms had not encircled her and held her close.

At last, panting, she found herself nuzzling Barbara's cheek, one hand patting, caressing that glossy dark hair.

The Apron Girl whispered, "Sweetheart, you are indeed affectionate!"

"I think – I'm – in love with you," Janey gasped.

Barbara hugged her. "Janey, I adore your saying that. So sweet. But don't forget that I'm your Apron Girl, in charge, of your training. Sometimes I will have to whip you."

"I don't mind," Janey choked. "As long as it's you. I'll try to be just like you, Barbara – Miss Barbara. Ill try hard!"

"Still, it won't be all love and lightness. But you are my favorite Ribbon Girl, Janey. Come now, let's go lounge on the bed and drink our wine."

Janey did not want to part.

But Barbara turned away. Janey clung to her arm as they moved to the bed. There Barbara gently pushed her down, then went around the bed to finger a button on the wall that Janey had not previously noticed.

She heard the whir of an electric motor. Wall panels moved, then one above, on the ceiling, exposing huge mirrors aimed at the bed.

She guessed the mirrors were windows when viewed from the hall. But she cared little about that as she gazed at her lover, at Barbara's warm smile. Her nipples were erect now, so stiff and thick and long! Such graceful lines, broken only by the golden patch of apron where her belly flowed into her thighs.

Then Barbara came to her, sat on the edge of the bed, turning into her arms. Their mouths met, open, moist, Janey's tongue now the first to dart out and lick the sweetness of saliva tasting faintly of wine.

Again their breasts merged. Janey caressed the girl's sleek back, down to the hollow, traced the flare of her hips. She followed the crack down her rear, caressing the satiny cheeks, to her asshole, which she pressed, moved about.