Story from Sapphire 14 by Lisette Ashton.
The door was opened by a naked woman. Tall, blonde and strikingly beautiful, she stood in the open doorway completely unashamed by her immodest display. Beth turned her face away, trying not to notice the dark cerise of the woman’s areolae or the fluffy golden curls of her pubic bush.
‘You’re Beth, aren’t you?’
Beth nodded. The opening lines that she had shaped and reshaped to introduce herself were forgotten as her checks turned a flustered red. She mumbled the word ‘yes’ but it was barely heard beneath the embarrassed rush of blood that pounded through her temples. Nervously, she tried to find a discreet corner of the doorway that she could study without having to look at the woman’s desirable curves.
‘Get away from that door and stop frightening the poor child, Suzie.’
This was a different voice. When Beth glanced into the shadows of the house she was touched by a wave of relief as she recognised its owner. ‘Carol,’ she whispered, as the woman pushed her way past the naked Suzie. Smiling at her work colleague Beth heaved a thankful sigh that there was a familiar face to stare at. Casting an embarrassed glance in the direction of the naked blonde, Beth said, ‘I thought I’d come to the wrong house at first.’
Suzie laughed, standing to one side and allowing Beth to enter the house. She didn’t move completely out of the doorway and Beth had to brush her body against the naked woman’s as she tried to step inside. Although she was trying not to think about, she felt sure she could feel the pressure of the blonde’s nipples stroking at her back through the fabric of her blouse. The sensation was intimate and disturbing and Beth refused to dwell on the emotions it generated. ‘You never know,’ Suzie grinned. ‘Before the night’s over, you might think you have come to wrong house.’
Carol and Suzie made a silent exchange and although Beth couldn’t work out what they were inferring to one another, she sensed that Carol was displeased with the naked blonde’s outburst. ‘Are you going to parade around in the nude all evening?’ Carol asked. ‘Or might we have the pleasure of seeing you in some clothes later?’
Suzie shrugged, her grin slanting to a coquettish angle. ‘You’ve never complained in the past,’ she purred. Carol’s frown deepened and even Beth could see that the blonde had overstepped the mark in some way. ‘I was coming to see you when the doorbell went,’ Suzie told Carol. Her tone was placatory and her words were rushed as though she was anxious to explain herself by way of an apology.
‘Why were you coming to see me?’ Carol asked.
Suzie turned to show her bottom to Carol and pointed a manicured fingernail to one exposed cheek. ‘I was about to go on the sunbed when I noticed this and I wondered if it would affect my tan.’
Beth couldn’t stop herself from staring at the peach-like orb. She was modestly proud of her own naked body but she knew it could never compare to the magnificence of Suzie’s curves. The blonde’s long legs were firm with well-toned muscles that accentuated the perfection of their shape. Her waist was painfully narrow, whilst her breasts were the size and shape of ripe melons. The cerise areolae were tipped with fat, pink nipples that seemed inordinately erect considering she was only undressed in readiness for a bout on the sunbed. However, it was the right cheek of Suzie’s backside where Beth’s attention focused. Against the pale skin there was a fiery red handprint, that made it look as though Suzie had suffered a punishing slap.
‘Is this going to spoil my tan?’ Suzie asked. ‘I’m going on the bed naked so I can become an all-over brown. I don’t want a white mark shaped like Helen’s hand on my right cheek. It would spoil the uniformity.’ There was a petulance in her voice that Beth couldn’t understand. The blonde did not seem to mind that her body had been marked in this way and her only concern seemed to be the effect it would have on her sunbed session.
Carol looked to be considering the problem seriously. She reached out and began to caress the flaming handprint with delicate fingers. Rather than performing a detailed study, Carol stroked her fingers lovingly over the bruised cheek and Suzie caught an excited breath.
Knowing that she shouldn’t be watching such a scene, Beth tried to snatch her gaze away but it was impossible to shift the focus of her attention. Suzie had such a pretty backside that Beth yearned to follow Carol’s example and reach out to caress the smooth flesh. Knowing that such behaviour would be unforgivably forward, she resisted the impulse and forced her gaze to study the hall carpet.
‘There’s only one solution if you want some uniformity to the appearance,’ Carol decided. Without another word, she raised her hand and brought it smartly against Suzie’s left cheek. The echo of flesh striking flesh sang from the hall’s acoustics like a faraway thunderclap. Beth gasped, thankful that her own cry of surprise was lost beneath Suzie’s squeal of shocked displeasure.
‘That bloody hurt,’ Suzie protested.
‘It makes you even,’ Carol said.
Beth had to agree that Carol was right. Suzie now bore two handprints on her buttocks and they were relatively similar in size, shape and position. She only dared to cast a meek glance at the sight, not sure that she should be witnessing any of this intimacy.
‘Now, unless you want a couple more handprints on your arse, I suggest you get on the sunbed and join us when you’re finished and clothed.’
Suzie looked as though she was going to say something else, then hesitated. She turned a warm smile on Beth and extended her hand, saying, ‘it was nice to meet you, Beth. I look forward to seeing you again, later on.’
Beth took the naked woman’s hand and shook it gently. She still felt painfully conscious of Suzie’s nudity but she forced herself to meet the blonde’s welcoming smile us though this was a normal way to greet people.
Once Suzie had left them alone, Carol made a half-hearted attempt to apologise for the incident. ‘You’ll have to excuse Suzie,’ she explained. ‘She has a gorgeous body and I think there’s a touch of the exhibitionist inside her. We’re a fairly informal group here at the Thursday Night Club and I sometimes think she shows off to make the others jealous.’
Beth nodded, as though this explained everything. Her cheeks were still crimson and her thoughts were racing as she tried not to ask those other vital questions that niggled at the back of her mind. She wanted to know who the mysterious Helen was, and why the woman had been chastising Suzie’s backside. She wanted to know what had possessed Suzie to allow such an indignity and why she had happily tolerated a second smack from Carol. Those were the questions at the forefront of her mind but timidity stopped her from voicing any of them.
‘Aside from the obvious reason, why is it called The Thursday Night Club?’
Carol shrugged, leading her down the hall towards a slightly ajar door at the end. ‘We all meet on Thursday Nights,’ she explained. ‘Here at the village Thursday is a traditional night out for the men. A handful of the girls and I decided it would be the best night for us to stay in and enjoy ourselves.’ She spoke as she walked through the door at the end of the hall and the tail-end of her explanation was heard by all of those in the back room.
A sullen brunette sat at a card table, nonchalantly sucking on a menthol cheroot. She studied Carol and Beth with a moody eye as they entered, trying hard to feign disinterest. In her free hand she held a fanned fistful of playing cards but her attention was riveted on Beth rather than the two women she was playing with. ‘Yes,’ the brunette agreed. ‘Welcome to the Thursday Night Club — the last bastion of reprieve from a world doomed by pathetic patriarchs.’
‘You’ll have to excuse Helen,’ Carol told Beth. ‘She tries to be intense and philosophical but mostly she just sounds pompous and dull.’
Helen made a rude sound. She turned her attention back to her cards, blowing a white plume of smoke against them.
Beth noticed that one of the other women was wearing only a skirt and a bra, whilst the other looked as though she was only dressed in a blouse. Trying not to attach any importance to this state of casual undress, she turned her helpless expression on Carol. ‘And what do you do here?’ Beth asked, forcing her tone to sound normal. ‘Here at the Thursday Night Club, I mean.’ Carol shrugged and looked as though she was about to respond when Helen spoke up.
‘We have a few drinks, we swim, we play cards and we try to think up games that will quell the endless ennui of village life,’ she intoned dramatically.
Carol glared at Helen, then exercised a wry smile on Beth. ‘Perhaps I should have told you a little more about our club before I invited you,’ she said carefully. ‘It was only with you being new to the village that I thought you might get a kick from meeting the girls this Thursday.’
Beth didn’t consider herself to be a suspicious person by nature but she could tell that Carol was keeping something from her. The idea of having a female only night out was exciting and it did promise to break some of the monotony that she had been troubled by since moving to the village. But Beth felt sure there was something more to this club than just a swimming pool and a sunbed and she felt even more certain that Carol hadn’t said what that something more was.
‘Like Helen said, we have a few drinks, we play a few games and we try to think of new ways to relieve the boredom of village life. I’ve got a sunbed here and a swimming pool, so there’s usually something to do and…’ ‘…and if that fails,’ Helen broke in. ‘We get out the slipper and the riding crop and…’ There was a wicked lilt to her voice and she looked as though she would have said more in spite of the weight of Carol’s furious glare. Before she could voice her unspoken words, the door burst open and Suzie burst into the room. She was still naked, displaying herself with no hint of shame in her posture.
‘Has anyone got some fast tan?’ she asked. ‘I need a “sunbed safe” accelerator, did anyone bring one?’
‘We all know what you need,’ Helen told her. ‘And it’s not a sunbed lotion.’
‘Stop being such a bitch. Helen.’
‘I’ll stop being a bitch when you stop being a tart.’
An icy silence thickened the atmosphere. Beth glanced from Helen to Suzie, aware that there was a tension between the two women.
‘Could you two show a little consideration for our new guest?’ Carol asked. There was an edge to her voice that defied argument. Beth had heard Carol use the same firm tone with the adolescent office girls but she had never imagined Carol could use it to such effect on women of her own age group.
‘What am I supposed to do when she calls me a tart?’ Suzie demanded.
‘Perhaps you should stop acting like one and stop calling her a bitch?’ Carol suggested.
Suzie scowled, an unpleasant expression that spoiled her pretty features. ‘That’s not fair,’ she said sullenly. ‘You always take Helen’s side. You’re a bitch Carol.’
Beth swallowed and turned from Suzie to Carol. She could see her friend’s expression turning thunderous and although Suzie looked confident enough to deal with the older woman’s temper Beth did not envy her position beneath Carol’s fierce gaze.
‘You have a nasty mouth on you some days, Suzie,’ Carol growled. ‘Some Thursdays I think you just come here for the punishment.’
‘No way,’ Suzie said. She took a step back and held out a defensive hand. ‘Helen started this, not me and I’m not going to suffer because of her.’
‘Go on, Carol,’ Helen encouraged gleefully. She had doffed her cheroot and placed her cards down forgotten as she cheered the two women on. ‘Use your slipper on the little tart.’
Carol rounded on Helen with a threatening finger. ‘I’ll use a slipper on both of you,’ she decided swiftly.
Beth saw Helen’s face fall whilst Suzie’s lit up gleefully.
‘You can’t be serious,’ Helen told her.
‘The pair of you have been acting like spoilt brats all evening and Christ only knows what poor Beth thinks of the pair of you.’
Beth wished that her name hadn’t been mentioned and she tried not to meet anyone’s eyes as the argument’s onus rested on her.
‘I want both of you,’ Carol said again. ‘And now,’ she hissed, ‘or you know the penalty.’
With a weary sigh, Helen eased herself out of her chair and went to Suzie’s side. She had grabbed a slipper from beneath the card table and she passed it to Carol with a truculent hand. ‘This isn’t fair,’ she mumbled.
‘Life seldom is,’ Carol told her. She turned to Beth and said, ‘don’t be too shocked by this. I’m sure that you’ll soon get gist of what happens here.’ Without another word of explanation she slapped the slipper against her open palm and said, ‘Bend over. The pair of you. Skirt up and knickers down, Helen.’
Beth tried to tear her eyes away from the scene but she couldn’t think of anywhere else to look. The two women who had been playing cards with Helen were both watching the scene with lascivious smiles. Carol’s attention was focused on the task in hand and Suzie and Helen were both facing away from her.
Making her acrimony known, Helen tugged her panties down, then flipped her skirt over her back as she bent forward. She was exposing a backside that was slightly larger than Suzie’s but no less shapely. Between the cheeks, Beth could see a cleft of dark pink that was coated with dense raven curls. However, it was the woman’s arse cheeks where her gaze lingered. Nestling on either side of the puckered ring of her anus, they were pale and smooth, broken only by the fading memories of earlier chastisements. The vague reddening of an earlier slipper’s sole bruised one cheek.
Beth swallowed, aware of the room’s anticipatory silence.
‘Stop drawing it out, Carol,’ Helen growled. ‘Just get it over and done with.’
She had barely finished the words when the slipper landed against her backside. Beth sucked air, only then becoming aware that she had been holding her breath.
Carol raised the slipper and delivered a second blow, this time to Suzie’s backside. Beth watched the shape of the sole brand a fiery mark against Helen’s cheek. The sound of the slipper striking flesh jolted her from her lurid study. Administering six blows between the pair of them, Carol raised the slipper again and again. She paused for an instant, snatching a greedy breath as she studied their reddened cheeks. Her smile slanted wickedly and she began to rain a further barrage of slaps. Surprised to find herself counting, Beth heard each girl gasp a dozen times.
Each crack was loud enough to make Beth flinch and she watched the backsides of both women beginning to glow. The peach-like orbs turned into a raspberry flush that darkened when the slipper was drawn away. Wishing she wasn’t watching so closely, Beth noticed that the dark curls at Helen’s cleft had become blacker. It wasn’t her imagination she realised, and that thought was confirmed when she saw the woman’s pussy lips split open. As shocking as it was to contemplate, Helen had gleaned a good deal of pleasure from the slippering and her labia were parting in an eager pout. Before Beth had a chance to peer any closer, Helen was brushing her skirt down and modestly putting her panties back on. When she turned to face the room her cheeks were rouged with the same rosy pallor that had blushed her backside. ‘I still say there was no need for that,’ she told Carol. Although she was trying to sound unhappy Beth could hear the husky inflection of arousal colouring her words.
‘You can kiss and make up now,’ Carol told the two women. ‘The pair of you can apologise to Beth later.’
Suitably dismissed the two women turned around and left the room.
Beth realised that there were a thousand and one questions she now wanted to ask but she couldn’t think of a way to broach any of them. A drink was placed in her hand and she was escorted to a chair at the card table, sitting next to Carol. A handful of cards were placed in front of her and she studied them blindly, still trying to think of a way to ask Carol about the slippering.
‘Does that sort of thing happen very often here at the Thursday Night Club?’
Carol laughed and shook her head. ‘Of course not,’ she said happily. ‘It barely happens three or four times a night.’
The first hand came and went before Beth had a chance to realise what was happening. Carol spread her cards on the table and said the words, ‘full house’, only to be treated to a chorus of groans from the two other players.
The woman wearing only the bra and skirt reached behind her back and unfastened the clasp of her bra. The other woman began to tug the buttons of her blouse open, revealing herself absolutely naked beneath. Beth stared from one to the other, then cast an unhappy glance in Carol’s direction.
‘Surely you’ve played strip poker before,’ Carol grinned. ‘Come on. Take your blouse off, Beth.’
Fearful of the retribution that might occur if she disobeyed, Beth began to work on the buttons. She tried rationalising the moment to herself, insisting that she was only displaying herself to other women and there was nothing wrong or untoward in what she was doing. Surprising herself, she almost found the inner voice convincing.
The deck was passed to the topless woman and she dealt five cards to each of them. Carol barely seemed to glance at hers before slamming them down on the table, face up. ‘If anyone can beat a royal flush, say now.’
There was another chorus of moans and Beth could see herself standing as naked Suzie before another two games were completed. Squirming with embarrassment at the thought, she took the offered deck of cards and clumsily passed out five cards to each of the players. Aware that she still had to remove some item of clothing, she modestly chose to remove her skirt. She did not know what good fortune had made her wear matching bra and panties for this evening. But she thanked the fates that had delivered her to the card table dressed for such a lewd match.
Not daring to meet anyone’s eyes as she placed her scantily clad bottom back at the card table, Beth tried to hide her embarrassed face behind a fanned fist of cards.
‘She’s got seven cards,’ one of the women screeched. ‘Look, Carol, she’s got seven cards.’
With her stomach lurching, Beth realised they were pointing at her. Through a hazy mist of embarrassment she saw that she had inadvertently dealt herself too many. ‘I’m sorry,’ she began. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she apologised.
‘I think you will be sorry,’ Carol agreed, easing herself out of her chair. ‘We have punishments for those who cheat at cards.’
‘I wasn’t cheating,’ Beth insisted. ‘It was an accident, honestly. Just an accident.’
Carol nodded. ‘I’m sure it was,’ she agreed. ‘But we have rules here and if we are going to have any sense of order, those rules have to be adhered to. You’ve already seen what happens. Bend over now, or suffer the penalty.’
Beth didn’t need to know what the penalty was to realise that it had to be horrible. For Suzie and Helen to have both chosen to suffer the indignity of a slippering rather than face the penalty, it had to be a consequence of the direst proportions.
‘This is so humiliating,’ she whispered.
‘It’s more than humiliating. It’s painful too,’ Carol laughed wickedly. ‘Bend over, Beth. This should teach you to take more care when you’re dealing cards.’
Blushing furiously, Beth did as she was instructed. She moved away from the card table and stood in the classic position to touch her own toes. Her mortified thoughts were saying a prayer of thanks that Carol had not asked her to remove her panties when she felt the woman’s hand on her back. Carol’s fingers teased along the elasticated band of her knickers and with her stomach folding over, Beth realised that the woman was going to take them off for her.
A sound at the door distracted everyone’s attention and Beth glanced up to see Suzie and Helen re-entering the room. The pair were holding hands and smiling at one another with an affection that ridiculed their earlier animosity. Although Beth had no way of knowing, she felt sure that the pair had genuinely been upstairs to kiss and make up. But she did not think that their reconciliation had ended with a mere kiss. Judging by the flustered pallor of Helen’s cheeks and the sodden hairs at Suzie’s cleft, Beth guessed that they had settled all of their differences.
The thought was no more than a passing fancy and was lost when she saw that the two women were studying her with mild reproof.
‘Has Beth been a naughty girl?’ Helen asked.
‘She’s just receiving a simple lesson about concentrating whilst dealing,’ Carol explained. Without another word she raised the slipper and threw it hard against Beth’s backside.
The indignity was one thing that Beth thought she might have been able to tolerate. Admittedly she was in a roomful of peers but none of them seemed to attach any shame or stigma to this demeaning punishment. However, there wasn’t just the indignity — there was also the pain. Her backside flared in a howl of protest and she longed to yelp, or scream, or give some release to the agonising sting that burnt her arse-cheek.
A second blow landed on the other cheek and the pain of the first was forgotten. She clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes closed against tears of shame. For an instant she wished she had found out what the penalty was, then dismissed that thought, knowing it would have been a damn sight worse. The third strike knocked the wind from her and her arse felt as though it was burning. She heard herself hiss a protesting grunt, but there was no thought of moving herself from beneath Carol’s hand.
The fourth and fifth slaps struck in quick succession: one for each cheek. A distant voice — Beth thought it was probably Suzie — gave an encouraging cry and giggled cheerfully. Another voice, and Beth felt certain this was Helen, began to count each fall of the slipper. The sound rang in her ears as her arse-cheeks began to glow.
Beth told herself that she couldn’t tolerate this humiliation any longer. As two more blows struck her she repeated the thought like an incantation. She had almost come to terms with the indignity but each new slap rekindled the pain of her aching buttocks. Her legs trembled with the effort of standing beneath the punishment and her eyes felt sore with the tension of holding back tears.
‘You’re taking it well,’ Carol murmured.
If Beth could have thought of a response, she didn’t think she would have found the voice for it. She drew a shivering breath and spat it out when Carol struck her again.
‘Nine,’ Helen whispered.
Beth squeezed her thighs together, trying to dissipate the pain through her body.
Carol hurled the slipper down hard.
‘Ten.’ This time the rest of the Thursday Night Club sounded as though they were taking up the chorus.
Beth tried to shut their voices out, wishing that the punishment would end. She heard them all cheer the eleventh blow as it racked her frame and realised gratefully that they were nearing the climax.
The final blow landed and she was gratified to hear Carol tell her that the punishment was over. Before she had a chance to pull her panties back up, she felt feminine fingers stroke the reddened cheeks of her backside. The touch was soft and sensual. Against the searing flesh of her arse, the cool caress was like a comforting balm.
A casual finger brushed through the pubic hairs over her cleft and Beth held her breath as a tremor of excitement fluttered through her stomach. She felt her face turn purple and tried to hide the fact that a wave of euphoric pleasure was sweeping through her body. The effort left her trembling and the power of the climax, although subtle, was almost enough to make her fall to the floor. She was helped back to her seat at the card table and the other players tactfully said nothing about the incident. Swallowing a mouthful of wine, Beth turned hesitantly to Carol and said, ‘You mentioned a penalty — if I hadn’t chosen to be chastised.’ ‘That’s right,’ Carol agreed.
‘What was it?’ Beth asked. Her face burning bright red she knew that everyone was watching her rather than playing the game. Ignoring their inquisitive expressions, she asked, ‘What was the penalty?’
Carol grinned and placed a reassuring hand on Beth’s knee. ‘The penalty is expulsion from the Thursday Night Club.’ With a wicked smile, she added, ‘And I’m sure that you wouldn’t want that.’Thinking about it, Beth had to agree that now she had discovered this group, expulsion from the Thursday Night Club would be the last thing she would ever want.