American Blue
Authors: Penny Birch
Tags: #Adult, #BDSM, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Pornography, #Sex, #Sexuality, #Spanking, #Thriller, #Wine Merchants
Contents
About the Book
I did at least finally get to cross the Brooklyn Bridge, even if it was in a furry pink bunny costume that left every contour of my bottom and breasts on plain show to what seemed to be an improbably large and unreasonably interested gang of spectators. On the opposite shore it was worse, with tourists to add to my woes, and every single one of them with a camera.
When Penny Birch discovers that her niece Jemima has been seduced into making a working tour of some of the USA’s most notorious pornographers, she feels she has no choice but to follow. Jemima is far from impressed, making Penny’s task harder still as they travel west from New York getting ever deeper into trouble.
Also by Penny Birch:
Why not visit Penny’s website at
www.pennybirch.com
A TASTE OF AMBER
BAD PENNY
BARE BEHIND
BRAT
BRUSH STROKES
BUTTER WOULDN’T MELT
DIRTY LAUNDRY
FIT TO BE TIED
IN DISGRACE
IN FOR A PENNY
JODHPURS AND JEANS
NAUGHTY NAUGHTY
NURSE’S ORDERS
KNICKERS AND BOOTS
PEACH
PENNY IN HARNESS
PENNY PIECES
PETTING GIRLS
PLAYTHING
REGIME
SLIPPERY WHEN WET
TEMPER TANTRUMS
TICKLE TORTURE
TIE AND TEASE
TIGHT WHITE COTTON
UNIFORM DOLL
WHAT HAPPENS TO BAD GIRLS
WHEN SHE WAS BAD
(Writing as Cruella)
THE INDECENCIES OF ISABELLE
THE INDIGNITIES OF ISABELLE
THE INDISCRETIONS OF ISABELLE
AMERICAN BLUE
Penny Birch
Dedicated to all my American friends
for their invaluable assistance,
especially Brian for his knowledge of basketball,
Jessie for coaching me in Midwestern
spanking practice, and Shane.
One
ONCE I’VE GOT
my pussy fully swollen my sex lips won’t even fit in my knickers. They bulge out at the sides instead, a sight so delightfully rude I sometimes pull on a pair of spanking panties even if I’ve stripped naked to pump myself up.
It had been a long day, and that was what I planned to do once I’d finished work: first a shower, then my pussy pump, then into a pair of fresh white panties and on to my bed for a long, slow session of masturbation as I admired myself in the mirror. I was fairly sure I knew what I’d be coming over as well, a contrast as absurd as it was obscene, and thus exquisitely humiliating: the shy, respectable Dr Birch, senior lecturer in Genetics, would become a dirty, fat-bottomed little slut, showing off to myself in nothing but tight white panties with my pussy lips swollen to four times their normal size.
Just the thought of it was enough to send a powerful shiver through my body, but it would be an hour, at least, before I could leave the university. I’m all in favour of first years studying a range of subjects before choosing their speciality, but in this case that meant seventy-two assorted science students with three jars of fruit flies per pair, making one hundred and eight jars and therefore approximately ten thousand
Drosophila
, most of which seemed to have escaped.
I was going to have to help clear up, as it was hardly fair to leave it to the lab technicians, so an hour was probably optimistic, but that only served to make my sense of anticipation stronger. Besides that, a few more days and it would be the start of the Easter holidays, no students until the start of the summer term. There was also the conference in Phoenix, my first trip to the United States and a chance to see some of the animals I’d been working with in their natural habitat.
All in all, life was rosy, rosy enough to keep me smiling even when one particularly dim student managed to drop a jar and release another hundred or so fruit flies into the lab. It turned out to be nearly two hours before we’d managed to fully restore order, and when I tried to download the pictures I needed for my American presentation into the key-fob memory unit I’d bought for the purpose, the computer wouldn’t behave.
By the time I’d started towards the station I was looking forward to my shower almost as much as what was to come after. As I stood on the train I was idly watching the boats on the Thames and thinking of how I would stretch out the moment. I don’t normally shave, but swollen pussy lips look ruder still without any hair, so I would denude myself completely, bringing myself up to a fine state of arousal before I even put the suction cup to my sex. Not that I needed much, as I already wanted to touch myself, but it’s always nice to tease.
Once I was done I’d go into my bedroom and spread myself out on the bed to admire my freshly shaved pussy and my bottom crease, perhaps even pink my cheeks up a little before I got the pump out. I only did it once a month, so that the sensation stayed fresh and naughty as I watched my lips expand beneath the clear plastic of the cup and enjoyed the strange, helpless
sensation
as my flesh became ever more sensitive and swollen. This time I would take it all the way, until I felt as if my skin would surely burst, before pulling off the cup to expose the bulging, blubbery thing I had made of my normally neat pussy, a thing grotesquely sexual in a way better suited to a chimpanzee than to a human being.
I was just getting off the train when my phone went, and I very nearly didn’t answer for fear than it might be something that would break the delicious thoughts building up in my head. It was Pippa, my cousin Kate’s eldest daughter, and there was a note of panic in her voice.
‘Penny?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve got a serious problem. I need you to help me out, quick.’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’m at Morris and Mel’s house. Hudson Staebler has invited Jem to go to the States, and she wants to go!’
‘Oh God. I suppose you want me to break the news to your mum?’
‘No. I want you to stop her going!’
‘How am I supposed to do that, Pippa? If she won’t pay attention to her own parents or to you, then she’s hardly likely to listen to me, is she?’
‘No, but it’s worse than that. He wants her to join in with some sort of kinky sporting event he’s organising in New York, and it’s going to be filmed. I’ve told her what that will do for her job prospects if it gets out, but she won’t listen. That’s not all either. He’s talking about putting her in spanking videos, and going on about how much money she could make for college, and she’s just lapping it all up. You’ve got to talk to her, Penny!’
‘Oh God, um … hang on, Pippa.’
I took the phone away from my ear, my good mood crumbling as the situation sank in. Jemima was old enough to make her own decisions, just, but she was far too headstrong for her own good. She had no idea what she was letting herself in for either, despite having caught the bug for kinky sex from Pippa and to a lesser extent myself. She’d been going to Morris and Melody Rathwell’s spanking parties with us, and had fallen for Hudson Staebler, a big, brash American who was involved in SM clubs, dirty videos, internet porn sites and probably worse.
Pippa was right, and there was a horrible inevitability about what would happen. Jemima would go home and tell Kate and Jeremy she was going to the States with a man over three times her age. Kate knew nothing whatsoever about her daughter’s behaviour, but would still have hysterics, while Jeremy would forbid the trip. Jemima would lose her temper and tell them she was going anyway and it would all come out: how Jemima had pushed Pippa into taking her to a spanking party and how Pippa had come to me to explore her own thirst for submission and lesbianism. Kate would speak to her mother, who would speak to mine, which didn’t bear thinking about.
I put the phone back to my ear.
‘OK, I’m coming. Just stay there, and make sure Jemima does too.’
As I broke the connection I was cursing under my breath. Jemima’s school had obviously broken up or she wouldn’t have been allowed to go into London, so she was presumably staying over with Pippa. It was only a short walk up the hill to home and that badly needed shower, and I could be back at the station in maybe an hour, but there was a sense of panic growing within me and as a southbound train pulled in at the opposite platform I stepped on board.
Two hours later I was getting out of a cab in front of Morris’s enormous, vulgar mansion in Highgate. It was only just starting to grow dark but several lights were already on and there was laughter in Melody’s voice as she answered the intercom, making me wonder if the whole thing hadn’t been a trick designed to get me along to one of their perverted gatherings.
Unfortunately that was too much to hope for. They were in the main drawing room; Morris and Melody, Annabelle in an abbreviated maid’s costume, Pippa in her city suit, Jemima seated on Hudson’s lap with her miniskirt lifted at the back as he stroked the seat of her panties. Pippa obviously hadn’t said anything, as there was real surprise in Jemima’s voice as she greeted me, but there was suspicion too.
‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’ Morris asked.
‘Um … I was going to go to Whispers,’ I lied, ‘but hardly anyone I knew was there and Ginny said you were here, Pippa, so—’
‘You’ve come to try and stop me going to the States, haven’t you?’ Jemima interrupted.
‘Yes,’ I admitted. ‘Can I have a word in private, please?’
‘It won’t make any difference,’ she told me, ‘so you might as well say it here.’
‘You’re being a brat, Jem,’ Pippa put in, but Hudson Staebler raised his hand.
‘Say what you’ve got to say, Penny,’ he demanded.
He had a lot of presence – the depth of his voice, his abundant masculinity, his sheer physical size – and it took an effort to answer him in a level voice. Fortunately I’d had plenty of time to rehearse my speech on the train.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘First, I realise that you’re in a position to do as you please, Jemima, but I don’t think you realise the possible consequences of your actions.’
‘What?’ she broke in. ‘Who cares what I do?’
I saw Pippa bury her face in her hands and realised I was probably going over old ground, but continued anyway.
‘Your future employers, for a start,’ I pointed out. ‘I know it’s hypocritical, but that doesn’t alter the fact that a lot of professions won’t even consider a woman who’s had any involvement whatsoever with the sex industry—’
‘Yeah, right,’ she interrupted once more, ‘like Pip got her work placement because her boss likes to spank her little arse? It’s all about contacts, Penny, and I’m making them. Anyway, I want to be in the Tribeca Tails.’
‘The Tribeca Tails?’ I queried, the flow of my argument stopped by her interruption.
‘My team,’ Hudson explained. ‘Girls’ basketball, only with a bit of added pzazz because the winning team gets to line the losers up and fuck ’em, with strap-ons.’
‘Oh God,’ I sighed. ‘Seriously, Jemima, do you want to be fucked by another woman, on camera, in front of a crowd of men?’
‘Hey, we’re no losers!’ Hudson answered me. ‘My girls ain’t going to be the ones getting fucked, no sir.’
‘Yeah, sure!’ Melody broke in, laughing. ‘When you meet the Brooklyn Bitches you are going down, and those strap-ons are going up, right up!’
‘I think it’s an even match myself,’ Morris put in. ‘My money’s on the Queens.’
‘You’ll lose it,’ Melody answered him. ‘It’s the Bitches all the way.’
I exchanged a despairing look with Pippa as the others began to argue the rival merits of the various teams involved in Hudson’s bizarre enterprise. He and a dozen others had organised teams and set up a
knockout
competition which was intended to become a league if it was a success. It seemed likely to be, with money coming in on the door as well as from video and internet sales, which meant international exposure for Jemima and a lasting record either of her getting fucked by another girl or
vice-versa
. It didn’t really matter which.