Butter Wouldn't Melt (10 page)

‘You're good and early,' he said. ‘Ready to go then?'

‘Yes,' I managed, although what I really wanted to do was to burst into tears.

‘I'll need a few minutes to get my papers together,' he said. ‘If you could get a cab for us, perhaps?'

I nodded and went outside to flag down a cab. A few minutes later we were driving down the Commercial Road as I tried to pay attention to what he was saying about the case, which involved copyright law.

‘. . . so the question becomes; to what extent does copyright apply to a customised car, and specifically the paintwork.'

He continued to talk, and I continued to listen, or at least try to, until we reached a low row of railway arches, most of which had been blocked off, with corrugated iron, masonry, or in the case of Stepney Customs, old doors topped with barbed wire. When I'd first heard the name I had assumed they were something to do with Customs and Excise, and even while Steve had been explaining the case to me I'd been imagining a serious and up-market business, not the seedy garage outside which we had been dropped off.

Inside wasn't much better, with three dodgy-looking mechanics in greasy overalls and a lot of
dirty equipment. I now knew they specialised in customising cars, and there were three vehicles in. One was an ancient Ford of some sort, with a long bonnet, which had been stripped right down so that it was little more than a shell. Another was largely hidden behind a system of screens, with just a small area of gleaming chrome and brilliant scarlet paint visible. The third was a Triumph Bonneville halfway through being restored to its original glory, with the chrome work immaculate but the wheels and petrol tank off.

Steve was sharing a few male-to-male witticisms with a man who looked like a gorilla, and I took my chance to examine the bike, moving towards it in reverent awe. Another of the mechanics immediately stepped close, a tall, skinny man with a long face and acne, speaking as he came.

‘Don't touch, love, it's on blocks.'

‘I know,' I answered him. ‘I just want to look. She's beautiful.'

‘It's a 1969 T120 Bonneville 650,' he said with evident pride.

‘I don't suppose it's for sale?'

‘Nah, love. Custom job, ain't it. Cost you five grand, that would.'

The implication was that I wouldn't be able to afford it, and he was right. I found myself making a sad face as I admired the beautiful machine, and once more wondering if owning such a marvel would be worth accepting some dirty old man's cock in my hand or mouth. Even at half odds, if I took old Mr Montague in my hand with a £100 bet on, I'd have had enough. He wasn't all that bad, rather a nice old man really, and very clean and neat. How awful could it be, just to take hold of his penis and pull on it until he came off in my hand, maybe after a gentle spanking on the seat of my knickers . . .

‘Would you like to come into the office, Pippa?' Steve asked, interrupting my fantasy.

‘Yes, of course, sorry.'

I did my best to concentrate as Steve and the gorilla look-alike, Mr Mulligan, went through the case, but it was hard, with my thoughts constantly slipping to AJ and the motorbike. For all I knew by that evening I'd no longer have a girlfriend, but on the other hand, while the bike outside might not be for sale I was sure I'd be able to buy something similar and have them do it up. Perhaps they'd even give me a discount.

The way they'd been looking at me they were more likely to demand sex as an extra, but that was just one of those things. I could always refuse. The skinny man in particular seemed to be fascinated with me, and kept glancing towards the glass window of the little wooden cabin we were in, even though he could only see my head. He also made several comments to his colleague, a younger gorilla whom I took to be Mr Mulligan's son.

He was indeed, as I learnt when we finally left, while the tall skinny man was called Fitch. All three of them seemed keen on me, and assured me we'd meet again soon as we said goodbye. Steve was oblivious, or possibly assumed that I always got that level of attention. He was trying to flirt in the cab back to the office, but I was in no mood to respond one way or the other, and declined his offer of dinner.

The rest of the day passed painfully slowly, but at long last five-thirty rolled around and I left the library where I'd been trying to concentrate on reading about copyright law. As I made my way towards the door I wasn't sure which I was dreading more, AJ being there, or AJ not being there. She was there, already straddled across her bike, and my heart
gave a little jump. I hadn't been dumped, but I was undoubtedly in trouble.

She didn't speak to me, and kept her visor down, so I quickly put on my helmet and threw my leg across the back of the seat. As I adjusted my skirt to get comfortable I was showing a lot of thigh, which drew a wolf whistle from the open window of the Blockhouse above us. I didn't see who it was, and AJ responded with a casual V sign before pulling out into the traffic.

I was accustomed to her driving, but she was faster even than usual, weaving in and out of the traffic and using both accelerator and brakes with a will. All I could do was cling on tight, with both my adrenaline and my apprehension soaring as we headed north. I'd half expected her not to make for Kingsbury, and sure enough, she stayed on the A1, picking up speed as the traffic began to clear beyond the North Circular. I knew where we were going, to The Pumps, an ex-filling station turned bike garage just south of Hatfield, and what that was likely to mean.

AJ never so much as acknowledged my presence until we arrived, and I hung my head meekly as soon as I'd taken my helmet off. She took no notice, instead walking towards the back of the main building, and I followed. Several girls were already there, most of whom I knew, including her friends Sam and Naomi, also the huge Chinese girl, Xiang, but none of the femmes, only butch girls. They looked up in surprise to see me trailing behind AJ instead of walking by her side.

‘Has the Moppet been misbehaving?' Sam asked.

‘She's been unfaithful,' AJ answered, and turned to me. ‘Strip, unless you want your clothes cut off.'

I didn't, and hastened to obey, my hands shaking badly as I began to scramble out of my clothes.
Nobody else could see me, unless they came around the end of the building, but I was still going nude in public. Once I'd kicked my knickers off, the temptation to cover my breasts and pussy with my hands was overwhelming but, when I did, it only made me feel small and stupid. I put my hands on top of my head instead, to stand trembling and exposed on the warm, oil-stained concrete, examining my feet in embarrassment and fear as the girls gathered around. AJ came close, tilting my chin up with one finger to force me to look her in the face.

‘So,' she said, ‘you like a bit of variety, do you?'

‘It . . . it wasn't like that!' I managed.

‘No?' she queried. ‘That's how it looked to me. So what did she do with you?'

I hesitated, but only for a moment. Jade knew pretty well everything and it was more than likely she'd had it squeezed out of her.

‘She spanked me,' I said, ‘for taking too long over lunch. She spanked me and made me lick her out.'

‘And? Did she get you bare?'

‘Yes.'

‘Completely?'

‘No. She . . . she pulled my knickers down.'

‘What position did she spank you in.'

I was already pink faced, and going rapidly pinker as I confessed.

‘Um . . . she did me . . . on my back . . . on my desk, in nappy-changing position.'

Somebody behind me giggled. AJ gave a knowing nod and I realised Jade had definitely been made to tell.

‘Any other dirty little details you'd like to tell us about?' AJ asked. ‘How she made you come, perhaps?'

‘She . . . she spanked my pussy.'

‘And?'

‘Um . . . she fingered me, and . . . and tickled my bumhole.'

‘And?'

‘She . . . she put a little plug up my bottom, one of those rubber date stamps, while she spanked me.'

‘And what did she do with it after your spanking? Did she leave it up your bottom?'

‘No. Oh, AJ, please, no . . . oh, OK, she made me suck it.'

‘She made you suck it? After it had been up your bottom?'

‘Yes!'

There were giggles and sounds of both delight and disgust from around me. AJ smiled, her face full of cruelty and lust as she leant closer still to speak again.

‘And did you enjoy that, Pippa? Did you enjoy sucking on a plug you'd just had up your dirty bottom?'

‘I wasn't dirty!'

There was a chorus of laughter, leaving my face burning so hot my cheeks must have been beetroot coloured.

‘Did you enjoy it?' AJ demanded.

‘Yes,' I admitted, close to tears, my head filled with panic and confusion as I was made to admit my filthy behaviour, but not my filthiest, because I hadn't told Jade how I'd imagined myself being buggered by Lucius Todmorden at the very peak of my orgasm.

‘At least you're honest,' AJ said, ‘or is it just that you know that little slut Dumplings would have told me everything already? Yes, it is, isn't it?'

My eyes had given me away, and she gave a satisfied nod before she continued.

‘OK, Moppet, so you like a bit of variety. Fair enough, so do I, and just to be kind I've arranged for you to get some. Take her indoors, girls.'

‘What are you going to do?' I asked as Sam and Xiang took me by the arms.

‘It's more what you're going to do,' AJ told me. ‘You're going to satisfy all of us.'

I swallowed hard. There were fourteen of them, all bigger and older than me, most of them into spanking or bondage or worse. Yet I couldn't refuse, and I couldn't even resist, only stumble after AJ as I was dragged across the rough concrete and inside the old garage. The air was thick with the smells of petrol and grease, the light dull and greenish where it shone through algae-encrusted windows. Several half-dismantled bikes and cars stood around a clear space where a grubby mattress had been laid out on the floor, with a chair beside it. I was pushed towards the mattress, where I stood, biting my lip as the girls made themselves comfortable.

‘Go on then, AJ,' Naomi urged. ‘Teach the little slut a lesson.'

‘I don't want to be greedy,' AJ answered. ‘I'll go last. The rest of you can draw lots for her.'

She'd gone across to the far wall, and pulled a page out of an old calendar that showed a blonde girl lifting her top. I waited, ever more conscious of my nudity as she carefully cut the page into pieces, separating out the first thirteen number squares, on which she closed her hands, shaking them as she turned back to us.

‘Sam's number one,' she said, ‘Naomi's two, then three and four and so on round to Xiang, who's number thirteen. Got it?'

They obviously had, and she quickly drew out a number from the now scrumpled bundle of paper in her hands.

‘Seven,' she announced.

A girl stepped forward, someone I only knew by sight. That didn't matter. I was hers to do with as she
pleased. She was dressed as a man, but in a style out of date by fifty years, with a formal suit and a hat. I was just glad I hadn't been given to one of the hardcore diesel dykes first, and as she stepped onto the mattress I managed a nervous smile.

‘Go for it, Trilby,' one of the others urged, ‘but leave something for us, yeah?'

The girl nodded, not bothering to turn around, but fixing me with a disconcerting stare. Her eyes were steel-grey, and although she was just an inch or so taller than me and slim too, I knew I'd be putty in her hands. After a moment she spoke.

‘Ever been fucked?'

I shook my head, then halted in confusion as I realised what she meant and made a vague gesture towards AJ. Trilby smiled and spoke.

‘Well you're going to be now. Get on your knees, arse high.'

As she spoke she pointed to her feet and I got quickly down, lifting my bottom into the required position, kneeling low on the mattress with my cheeks up and open to show off the little hole between and pussy too. Trilby began to walk around me, stopping when she was directly behind.

‘Are we going to need any lube?' she said. ‘Are we fuck!'

A sob broke from my lips. She was right. I was quite wet enough already, my pussy creaming so well the juice was running down my thighs as I held my position. They could all see, laughing and joking amongst themselves for the state I was in, and clapping as Trilby pulled down her trousers to flop out a thick rubber cock. It was bright red, and fashioned in grotesque detail, with a bulbous head and great thick veins crawling up either side of the shaft.

I was staring in horror at the thing she was about to put inside me, or attempt to. As she got down I tried to crawl away, but she caught me easily, holding onto my hips as she pressed the thick dildo against my sex. I felt pussy spread to the fat rubber tip, and up it went, tight in my hole, but not so very tight. It didn't hurt at all, and as she begun to fuck me I was soon gasping and clutching at the old mattress in helpless excitement. Trilby laughed and called out to AJ.

‘I see you've already got her nice and open.'

‘I fuck her regularly,' AJ answered.

‘If you want it tight, Trilby, stick it up her bum,' somebody called, causing fresh laughter.

‘She's just tight enough to hold my strap-on in, thanks,' Trilby answered, and she'd pushed herself deep in up me. ‘Hold still, slut.'

She'd begun to rub herself on the base of the dildo, making it squash in and out of my open hole, while her open trousers were rubbing on pussy. I put my face in the mattress in a vain effort to hide my pleasure, but I knew that if she kept the motion up for long I was going to come. She was taking her time, exploring my bum and slapping my cheeks, occasionally pulling out to penetrate me again or fucking in my hole for a few short strokes. Soon I was panting and wriggling myself onto the dildo inside me, much to the delight of the crowd, and long before she'd come my own orgasm rose up in my head and burst, to leave me sobbing and whimpering into the mattress. It took another long minute before Trilby finished off and pulled free, leaving pussy to close with a soft burping noise as AJ called out.