Photo-story from Blushes 93
In Mr Kilmer’s back room a girl stands waiting, leaning against a small wooden table. Mr Kilmer of Michael Kilmer — Bespoke Suits and Dresses, his not very glamorous-looking shop in one of the back streets off the town square. From what is shown in his single somewhat dusty display window he seems to deal in ladies’ garments Ladies and girls. And not too successfully one might imagine. Ah, but that drab window can give the wrong impression. Mr Kilmer does have a little coterie of special customers, for whom he provides an appreciated service. Because Michael Kilmer can run up just about whatever a person desires, He can translate the most exotic thought, even when only sketchily perceived, into a breathtaking creation.
Is that why this girl is here this afternoon?
She is quite tall, in a white-on-red polka-dotted tunic dress which is sleeveless and knee-length, plus black high-heels Her chestnut hair is held on top of her head with a black silk bow. She is wearing large beige-framed spectacles which give her a rather owlish look but cannot disguise that she is in fact a very pretty girl. She would seem to be about 18. Her name is Sophie.
As we watch she makes a little face and leans back to rest her left buttock half on the edge of the table. She has been waiting for some minutes now, while Mr Kilmer is engaged in some other business. The big brown eyes behind the glasses glance round again. She hasn’t been in here before but there is not a lot to look at. The room is largely bare, just a stool and the table and a large mirror in one corner. On the walls are hanging finished and unfinished garments.
Mr Kilmer has told her he won’t be long. She sighs and sits both buttocks more completely on the table, then raises one leg up, gripping her ankle. In the process there is a momentary revealing of alluring bare inner thighs and the narrow strip of pale blue silk, the crotch of her brief knickers, which bisects them. And then Mr Kilmer appears through the open doorway behind her.
‘One more moment,’ he calls. He is doing something in that other room. Sophie half turns her head.
‘I’ll be with you in just a moment...’
Very shortly he does finally appear, ‘Sorry about that.’
Sophie has got off the table, to stand up straight. Mr Kilmer is not old, fortyish; a large man, heavily built, one could even say fat around his waist. His eyes are roving over her.
‘Good. So you’re Mr Hodgley’s new girl. Sophie. His new... ah... niece, is that it?’
‘Well kindof,’ Sophie says.
‘Kindof? What does kindof mean,’ Mr Kilmer asks. ‘Surely a girl knows what she is?’
Sophie flushes slightly. ‘Well yes. I suppose I am.’ The fact is of course that she is not really Mr Hodgley’s niece. She is not any actual relation at all. She is staying With Mr Hodgley for a period of training. Then, her parents believe, or at least hope, that with Mr Hodgley’s recommendation Sophie will be able to get a good job. Sophie thinks Mr Kilmer is aware of this fact, he knows she is not really a niece.
‘Good. OK, His new niece. To distinguish you from that other niece called Mandy. Mandy who had rather a lovely bottom. And of course Jenny too, the niece before Mandy. Jenny, I remember, also had a very lovely bottom. Mr Hodgley is a very lucky man to have all these attractive nieces. With such lovely bottoms. I mean I’m assuming yours is lovely too although l don’t know that yet.’
Sophie flushes some more. At this reference to her bottom. The fact is, she is aware she is going to have to undress for Mr Kilmer. Mr Hodgley has told her that. To be measured for the special outfits. Mr Kilmer will want to take exact measurements and for this he will need to have her clothes off. The thought is undoubtedly scary, having to take her things off for this stranger. For one thing... Sophie doesn’t have much on. Very little at all in fact. There is the pretty red-and-white dress, and those very brief knickers whose skimpy crotch we glimpsed a few moments ago. And that is it. Nothing else. It was Mr Hodgley’s idea. His instruction in fact. Nothing else. So there will be no impediment to Mr Kilmer’s manipulations with his tape measure. That was what he said.
Mr Kilmer steps closer. Very close. ‘But I’m sure it is lovely,’ he says. ‘Your bottom I mean. Yes?’
What can you answer to that? Not a lot. Sophie thinks instead perhaps a little laugh. To as it were relax things. But her planned ladylike titter becomes an alarmed squeak. Mr Kilmer’s hand has come up and taken hold of one of her tits! Sophie’s tits are quite good-sized, firm and thrusting under the pretty dress. And moreover, as noted, there is nothing else covering them. No bra. Under the thin dress her quite big, firm tits are absolutely nude. And Mr Kilmer’s meaty hand has closed on the left one.
She automatically tries to take a step back, away from this alarming hand, But there is nowhere to go, the table is right there against her bottom. She squeaks again.
Mr Kilmer says brusquely, ‘Keep still. I can’t do my job if you’re jerking around. Didn’t Mr Hodgley tell you? Full cooperation. I’m sure he did.’
Yes Mr Hodgley has told Sophie that. ‘You’re to do whatever he wants. Alright? Mr Kilmer must have a completely free hand. I certainly shan’t want to hear that you haven’t been completely cooperative.’ Those were Mr Hodgley’s exact words. But did he mean? Did he know... that Mr Kilmer would be blatantly groping her tits?
‘Uh... yes...’ she acknowledges. And then another rather desperate squeak. Mr Kilmer’s fingers have closed on the nipple. Sophie’s nipples are very sensitive, to the slightest touch. Especially so to a firm squeeze by strong male fingers. Her nipples, with a will of their own, have already responded. Come up still and firm. Mr Kilmer’s fingers are squeezing and kneading the upright left one. It is making Sophie’s knees feel distinctly rubbery.
But there is more to come. Worse! The fingers desist — but only to slide down. To the juncture of Sophie’s rounded thighs. Her pussy in fact. Yes, her tight feminine purse. She gasps. The hand has cupped her pussy mound!
‘Are you wearing knickers?’ Mr Kilmer asks. She makes a strangled sound of assent
‘No need,’ he says ‘There’s really no need. I mean they’re going to have to come off of course. I can’t measure a girl properly if she’s still got her knickers on. Mr Hodgley could have sent you without them. Don’t you agree?’
Sophie doesn’t agree, Not at all. The thought of coming here in that taxi, alone with that taxi driver, with no knickers on! She makes a sound of protest, and can’t help squirming, quite urgently, at what the hand is now doing.
Sharply Mr Kilmer says, ‘Cooperation Miss! Or I’m afraid I shall have to resort to spanking your bottom. Or maybe the cane. Is that what you want?’
Sophie squeals a frantic ‘No... please!’
At approximately this same time, 3.30 on this pleasant Wednesday afternoon in October, Mr Aubrey Hodgley is seated in his lounge sipping a cup of Earl Grey tea. Mr Hodgley is a reasonably well-off gentleman of 60 who can afford to indulge himself in certain little ways. The little thing which gives him most pleasure is having girls, 17 or 18, that sort of age, ‘nieces’ so-called, staying in his house for ‘training’. And his latest of course is called Sophie. Naturally his thoughts are on the delightful Sophie now as he sips his tea.
She is very new, only arriving on the train yesterday, So very new indeed. He is thinking of her with Mr Michael Kilmer. In that little room in the back of Mr Kilmer’s premises. Just Sophie and Mr Kilmer, and as it is Wednesday afternoon he will be closed for regular business so there should be no interruptions Mr Kilmer will be able to proceed without hindrance, with all the afternoon at his disposal. No doubt he will be having an extremely enjoyable time. With Aubrey’s new niece Sophie.
Aubrey feels an undoubted tingle of excitement. What exactly will Michael Kilmer be doing at this moment? He is a considerably younger man, fortyish, and powerfully built, like a bull one could say. The thought of what all that aggressive male bulk could do to the tender Sophie... well, it quite takes the breath away. When he has her dress off. And those skimpy little briefs as well. Will he have got to that stage yet? Is sweet Sophie already stripped down to her delicious nude flesh?
And if she is, what then? What now! Spread helplessly across those meaty thighs already? For a quite devastating spanking of Sophie’s bare bottom. Oh yes, devastating alright, because Aubrey has watched Michael Kilmer dish it out to a couple of his previous nieces. Yes, because usually he goes along, takes the girl personally. And then lets Kilmer proceed. Well, one cannot interrupt when a man goes about his business. So he lets Kilmer have his head. Have his way with the young Miss. While he, Aubrey, the girl’s guardian, watches.
The unhappy young lady can never adequately handle it of course. As Mr Kilmer proceeds with the measuring, etc. She tries, but she is inevitably too nervous, too hesitant. Too much squirming away from his prying hands, those probing fingers. And Michael Kilmer can’t stand for that. If she is going to squirm and writhe about. Well then, he will give her something to squirm for.
Watching Jenny and Mandy, unhappy squirmers, over Mr Kilmer’s lap provided great pleasure, and considerable excitement. Watching those desperate jerkings and writhings. Hearing the frantic cries. As the meaty hand cracked down! Yes, quite first class.
And Aubrey Hodgley will enjoy the same with Sophie. On her next visit. Then he will take her personally, and watch. Join in too of course. Yes. But this time, Sophie’s first time, he had the thought, the quite marvellous idea, of sending her alone. So that Kilmer can feel quite free. And he, Aubrey, can sit here and imagine just what he is doing!
Naturally he will want to know when she gets back He will want a most detailed account of everything. Exactly what she has been subjected to. Exactly where Mr Kilmer’s questing fingers have probed. On pain of... well, naturally, more spankings. Or a strapping. Or a caning,
Aubrey hasn’t strapped or caned the sweet girl himself yet. So that also lends to the excitement. The fact that at this moment Kilmer may be wielding the strap over her naked and writhing buttocks. Her very first taste of it! Yes, spicy indeed!
Michael Kilmer won’t be the first to spank Sophie, Aubrey has done that. Because it is his practice routinely to spank a new girl. A new niece. It is quite essential, to get her set on the right wavelength. So she knows what’s what, what to expect. So he did it after supper yesterday, a few hours after she arrived. After Mrs Brentgrove, his housekeeper, had cleared away the supper things. ‘Have a bath and then an early night,’ he counselled the sweet girl. ‘I imagine you’re tired from your journey.’
Sophie had demurely agreed that she was a little tired and had had a bath. But then had been surprised, shocked even, to find Mr Hodgley waiting for her in that charming little room which Mrs Brentgrove had prepared. And certainly then even more surprised and shocked at what she was told to do. To remove her dressing gown. And lift her nightdress. And then get over Mr Hodgley’s lap, as he seated himself on the bed.
It was just a routine disciplinary matter he assured her. But naturally it wasn’t routine for poor Sophie. It hurt! It really stung! It wasn’t just the fiercely stinging pain, though. There Was the utter awfulness of this thing. Being over a man’s lap with your bottom bared. At 18! Well of course 18-year-old girls nowadays are not used to that, it is an experience which probably doesn’t even enter their pretty heads. Until something like this, you find yourself alone with someone like Mr Hodgley. With also the alarming knowledge that you are here for several weeks to come. Because that is what your parents have agreed to.
Sophie hasn’t been spanked yet by Mr Kilmer. Or strapped, or anything like that. Not yet. But she is standing unhappily up on that stool. With her dress off. It is pretty awful. Well it is very awful to be accurate. Her quite big tits bare for Mr Kilmer’s greedy gaze. Her nipples are still sticking out, erect from that groping while she still had her dress on. And now the dress is off. Sophie’s natural reaction has been to bring her hands up to modestly cover her tits with their sticking out nipples, but Mr Kilmer has sharply vetoed that. Hands away!
And now there is the matter of her knickers. Those extremely brief and sexy pale blue knicks which Mr Hodgley made Sophie wear for this visit. She has just been told to take the knickers off too.
Mr Hodgley did say this of course. That she would have to take everything off. Her dress and her knickers — which is all she had on. Yes Mr Hodgley said it, but Sophie didn’t really believe it. Not really. Because for one thing you can’t believe it is necessary to have everything all including knickers, to be measured for a dress or whatever. Sophie would have queried it when Mr Hodgley said this, maybe even argued — were it not for that dreadful spanking he gave her before bed yesterday. That dreadful spanking on her bare bottom. And for no reason! Or no proper reason. She hadn’t done anything. No, it was simply routine, he said. He said he always did it...!!
Well after that, for no reason. You naturally feared he might do it again. At any slight excuse. Which could include any sort of slight arguing, questioning even. So Sophie had thought it wise not to question what he said about Mr Kilmer. She had consoled herself with the thought that Mr Hodgley might be exaggerating, or even joking.
It seems he wasn’t!!
‘Take them off right away. Or if you prefer, I’ll go and get my strap.’
Oh God! There can be no mistaking Mr Kilmer’s hard and menacing tones. He means it! So, in the circumstances, well, a girl has no choice.
Sophie, whimpering, snakes the brief knicks down. Right off, over her high heels which she still has on. She slides the tiny garment into Mr Kilmer’s waiting hand. One of her own hands has already, automatically come across to cover the bright brown bush of her pussy.
‘And get your hand away! Stand up straight! How often do I have to tell you?’
Mr Kilmer’s meaty paw thwacks heavily across Sophie’s bare rump. She lets out a squawk.
‘Sharpen up then! The next time you do that it will be the strap.’
Oh please God! Can he behave like this? But there is no one here to stop him. And it will be no good complaining to Mr Hodgley. Her parents? She can’t speak to them. Last night, after that spanking, Mr Hodgley said no phone calls. Not for the moment. Phone calls home could be unsettling for a girl.
So Sophie has no choice but to stand up straight. Or try to at least. Displaying her blatant tits. And the blatant bush of her pussy. Mr Kilmer’s hand slides over her. Over the smooth, soft, trembly flesh.
He has the tape measure out now. Is that a good sign? A few quick measurements and then it’ll all be over, she can get her things back on? Somehow Sophie doesn’t think so. It is not going to be quick.
The measure is slid round her waist. Then higher up. Higher still. Round her tits. Mr Kilmer grunts — and his fingers tweak her thrusting nipples. Then down. Her hips. Her bottom! The questing fingers probe again. The cleft of her bottom now! She can’t stand still for this!!
Matter-of-factly Mr Kilmer says, ‘Remind me to get that strap out in a second.’
Oh please Jesus!
‘Part your legs. Come on!’
Sophie’s quivering legs reluctantly part. Her trembly thighs! The measure is there. And Mr Kilmer’s hand! High up, between her thighs.
And... she knows she will collapse if his hand...
The hand does. Her pussy! Sophie emits a shuddery squeak. She feels like she is collapsing although somehow she is still upright on her high heels. Yes, Mr Kilmer’s questing fingers are in her pussy. Have slid in between the moistly lubricated lips. No doubt this is necessary as part of the measuring process. The gauging and calculating of every slant and angle of Sophie’s pristine form. And as part of this it seems somehow necessary for Mr Kilmer to have his fingers in her slick wet purse.
More gaspy, squeaky exhalations. As Mr Kilmer’s fingers do what they seem to have to do. After what seems like a considerable time, an age, he removes the fingers. Notes some figures in his little book. Then goes out, into the next room. Sophie is still trying to recover some semblance of composure. She hasn’t, though. Not really, Not at all. Those fingers!
And now he is back. And now Mr Kilmer has this strap in his hand! A frightful looking thick leather tawse!!
Without ceremony he cracks it across Sophie’s bared nates. She screams out.
‘Cut that racket!’ he grits. ‘Or I’ll whack this pretty arse so you won’t want to sit on it for a week.’
He slices the tawse in again. Sophie can’t help yelling, in spite of that threat. Another one slashes in. And another. Her poor bum is red hot!
Then he puts the tawse down. And tells Sophie to get down off the stool.
‘Come on. You’re coming over my lap.’
Yes! Sophie’s poor bottom, fire-engine red from that dreadful tawse is now going to be spanked. Mr Kilmer is sitting on the stool. And grabbing whimpering Sophie. Pulling her down, across his meaty thighs.
‘Let’s hear it then,’ Mr Hodgley demands. ‘I want the whole story. What you and Mr Kilmer did. And I suppose you were egging him on. Enjoying it! Oh yes, I know what you young girls are like!’
Sophie has just got back to Mr Hodgley’s. Delivered by taxi. By a taxi-driver who helped himself to a firm grope of Sophie’s bottom as he assisted her out of the cab. But after Mr Kilmer that scarcely seemed worth worrying about.
She is sitting now with Mr Hodgley on the lounge sofa. Mrs Brentgrove has gone to make some tea. Perhaps Sophie needs something stronger than tea. After that Mr Kilmer.
‘Come on, dear!’ Aubrey Hodgley is impatient. Well he has been sitting here all afternoon. Imagining. And now he must know.
Sophie can’t answer. She is tongue-tied. Her head is still spinning around a bit.
Mrs Brentgrove brings in the tea, then silently departs. A pot of tea and some cakes.
‘Now! Let’s have it!’ Aubrey eagerly prompts his girl. ‘Come on! Mr Kilmer, our dear friend. I want to know all about it. A spanking I suppose. Well naturally. And the strap? The cane?’
His voice lowers, conspiratorially, ‘And... anything else? Did he use any... ah... lubricant? Vaseline...?’
Sophie goes bright red in the face. She can’t talk about it! Not possibly!
Mr Hodgley moves closer and slides his arm round Sophie’s shoulders. ‘I know you won’t want the cane again, my dear. Now, right away. And you won’t get it — if you give me a full and complete account of that fitting session right now.’
So what DID Mr Kilmer do? And what will happen when Mr Hodgley takes Sophie back for her next fitting?
To find out don’t miss Part Two to appear in Blushes 94.
Blushes 93 turned out to be the last in the originally numbered series, and so the next instalment (Sophie’s Follow-Up Fitting) actually featured in the first edition of New Blushes 2 magazine.