Neighbourhood Watch (13 page)

‘You were watching Joanne’s gimp quite intensely,’ Tom observed.

‘Was I?’

He chuckled. ‘There were so many things you could have been watching around the pool. That blonde with the big chest was sucking two men without protection. Those gorgeous black lasses were going at each other. Joanne herself looks quite resplendent in her costume. And there was a woman in the kitchen doorway being sandwiched between two men. Yet you weren’t watching any of those events. You couldn’t tear your gaze from Joanne’s gimp.’

‘You must have been watching me quite intently,’ Linda muttered.

He took another swig of beer and tilted his head. She still couldn’t read his eyes, but she had the impression Tom was looking only at her face and was not interested in her naked form. The thought was crushing.

‘You could never be a gimp,’ he told her. ‘Not an anonymous one.’

If the remark had come as a shock she would have asked him why he thought she wanted to be a gimp and then denied his assumption. But, because it was so in keeping with her thoughts, she couldn’t control her automatic reaction.

‘Why on earth not?’ She heard her voice ring with indignation. ‘I could gimp as well as Joanne’s shiny pet mongrel. I’d be obedient and I’d eat pussy and suck cock and I’d take whatever anyone wanted to –’

‘You couldn’t be anonymous,’ Tom broke in gently. ‘I saw your quim at the start of the evening. The lips were so full and ripe and appetising I’d recognise them anywhere. I’m sure any man with a passing interest would spot you straightaway and know who you were.’

She shivered in the darkness. Ted and Phil had both been amazed by the sight of her pumped-up pussy lips, but, as soon as the party began, they had gone in separate directions and not mentioned the temporary modification. Tom’s obvious appreciation was made more remarkable by the simple fact that he had noticed. In that moment, she realised, if he had suggested they do anything – absolutely anything – she would have happily obliged.

‘You’d best be getting back inside,’ Tom said, nodding towards the conservatory. ‘You’ll catch a chill out here.’

Linda wanted to argue, tell him she was enjoying his company, but she suspected Tom would rather watch than interact. And, even though she now longed for him, she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable or act against his wishes. Squaring her shoulders, pushing her chest forward and breathing in so her waist narrowed, she allowed him a moment to appreciate her body while it was tangibly close.

‘I’m glad you liked my pumped-up pussy lips.’

‘I still like the way they look,’ he admitted, ‘even though the swelling has subsided a little.’

She trembled, delighted by the idea that he might now be looking directly at her cleft. Not wanting to leave him, feeling the need to say something else, she added, ‘I think I could play the role of a gimp if I really wanted. I could take the punishment and the humiliation. And I don’t think anyone would ever know it was me.’

His head moved slowly from side to side. It wasn’t a firm denial, she thought, only a gentle assertion of disagreement. ‘If you want to try the gimp experience you’d be better off making contact with McMurray at number four. I don’t know much about him, but I hear he knows how to properly punish and humiliate a woman. If you really want to try that sort of experience, I’d suggest you meet up with him first.’

Shocked by the excitement that Tom’s suggestion inspired, Linda thanked him and then stepped back inside to the party.

It was proving to be a hell of a party, John thought, the best he had ever attended. When Joanne suggested he should wear the gimp suit his initial reservations had vanished beneath her insistent scowl. Slipping into the tight-fitting costume as she assailed him with a barrage of insults and abuse, he had found his spent length quickly growing hard again.

It helped that his identity was concealed beneath the gimp suit’s mask. Even though no one knew who he was, it had still been humiliating walking at Joanne’s side as she strode across the street to the party. When they entered Ted and Linda’s house and Joanne commanded him to crawl on his knees, John thought his degradation could never be more complete. And yet, as the evening progressed, Joanne had thoughtfully taught him that there were still fresh depths for him to plumb.

He had never known such a thing as a gimp suit existed until Joanne threw the leather at him. Now, wrapped inside its tight confines, aware that everyone could see the inadequacy of his physique and that they could use him however they saw fit, he wondered why the existence of such a treasure had been hidden from him. He had already decided that, regardless of what happened at the party, he wanted to wear Joanne’s gimp suit again and again and again. If it had been possible to give up his job, and dedicate his life to wearing the suit and serving his mistress, he would have happily thrown himself into the new lifestyle without a thought for all that he was leaving behind.

The leather was tight across his crotch. It had remained tight until Joanne unfastened the zip there and allowed his erection to burst into view. A few people had snickered at his length but the majority had simply ignored his arousal. Each time he was presented with a new pussy to lick – and there had been so many of those delicious folds of labia pushed in front of his face he could no longer be sure of the number – his erection had twitched into fresh life and come close to the point of climax.

‘Aren’t you doing well?’ Joanne murmured.

Her praise warmed him. He would have felt a genuine affection for her if Joanne hadn’t chosen that
moment
to slice her crop across his rear. Even though leather covered his backside, she still wielded the blow with enough efficiency to make it smart. A blazing line raged across his buttocks. Tears of raw anguish blurred his vision. He teetered on the brink of ejaculating.

She had commanded him to lick her. She had insisted he bury his nose into every woman who consented to be serviced by her gimp. She had even laughed at him as a group of her friends watched and he was forced to slide his tongue through the puckered ring of her anus. Her control had been divine, his submission exhilarating.

‘Joanne?’ John didn’t bother to look up. Joanne had already informed him that he was not expected to interact with any of the guests at the party. He tried to work out what was happening by studying the dark trousers that moved into his range of vision. It was impossible to tell who the man was but he could see from the way Joanne turned and enthusiastically greeted the stranger that it was someone she considered an equal.

‘Darling,’ Joanne purred. ‘How are you tonight?’

‘All the better for seeing you in that outfit.’

She laughed demurely.

John instantly loathed the man. He had been in Joanne’s company as her gimp throughout the evening and hadn’t managed to make her respond with so much enthusiasm. He despised the confident authority of the man who now embraced her and pressed a hand against her barely covered buttock. Raising his gaze slightly, not wanting to see but desperate to know what was happening, John saw the man draw a finger along the slit of Joanne’s sex.

She had discarded her panties earlier in the evening. The sight of her bare sex was nothing new to him. But
this
was the first time he had seen another man’s hand touch the flushed folds of her labia, another man’s finger slide inside Joanne’s warm, wet hole.

John’s erection throbbed urgently as Joanne flicked her cane against his rear. He flinched and glanced up at her.

‘Stay here,’ she growled. ‘I’m going to get myself laid now. I expect you to be waiting in this position when I get back. Move and the punishment will be far more severe than you could possibly imagine.’ Her tone was so severe he almost climaxed. Watching her stride away on the arm of the man, wishing he could be by her side and able to watch as she had sex with someone – even if he wasn’t allowed to physically participate – John squirmed miserably on all fours and quietly cursed the torment of his agony and ecstasy.

A glance in the mirrored surface of the conservatory windows showed that he had become a ridiculous spectacle. He was a shiny figure on all fours, a black-swathed intruder in a sea of naked pink flesh. He sported an erection that no one wanted. He was an undesired sex toy. It was a new level of humiliation that he yearned to enjoy but, without Joanne’s guidance and control, he couldn’t take pleasure from it.

A hand slapped his rear. The pain was short, sharp and deliciously condescending. John turned to see who had struck him and stopped, mesmerised. There was something familiar about the woman but he couldn’t place her. Her hair was dark, shoulder length, and glistened like a shampoo advert. Her china-blue eyes, shadowed by the eye-mask, sparkled with mischievous excitement. Glancing down her body, marvelling at the lacy dark bra hugging her breasts and the jet stockings that clung to her thighs, he gazed reverentially at the large black strap-on protruding from her loins. The shaft was a good twelve inches long and as thick as his
wrist
, the bulbous end huge and rounded. It had obviously been modelled on some heroically equipped giant.

John swallowed.

‘Stay down on your knees, gimp,’ she sneered.

John did as she commanded. He had thought Joanne was a commanding authority figure, but this woman was far more menacing. Staring up at her with the respect she deserved, he contemplated stammering an apology and then remembered it was not a gimp’s place to speak.

She knelt by his side and reached beneath him. Her wrist brushed against his erection and he stifled the urge to moan. Not daring to look at what she was doing, reminding himself he was there as a gimp and simply had to suffer whatever any of the guests wanted to do with him, John remained rigid as she fumbled with the zipper on his suit. He had assumed Joanne had opened it to its full length when she tugged its teeth apart and allowed his erection to tumble free. But, when the masked stranger pulled more fiercely on the zip, and his balls were released from their confines, he realised the design of the suit was not as simple as he had first imagined.

She tugged the tab of the zipper hard underneath him and then yanked it up between his buttocks. John hadn’t expected the costume to open in such a fashion and was disquieted by the idea that so much of his body was now visible and accessible.

‘Don’t move away,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve been wanting to play with you since I first came to this party.’

He nodded and remained still. Her hand encircled his length and squeezed with more force than he thought necessary. She stroked his shaft and then cupped his scrotum. Her hand was cool against the sticky, sweaty flesh of his sac. He stiffened, sure she
was
going to squeeze, not knowing whether he wanted that level of punishment or if it would prove more than he could tolerate. Holding his breath, trying not to sigh with relief when she lightly kneaded his balls and then moved her hand away, he resisted the urge to glance at her and try to work out who she might be.

A finger brushed against his anus. The sensation was almost too much. He had spent an evening as the plaything to a dozen or more unknown partygoers. His backside had been repeatedly cropped and caned. He had enjoyed the humiliation of Joanne’s cruel, scathing insults. But he had never known pleasure like this.

‘Don’t move,’ the woman beside him hissed. ‘Just let me get you lubricated so I can ride this tight little arse of yours.’

It was all the warning she gave before sliding a finger into his rectum. The muscle of his anus yielded to her. The slender girth of her finger slipped easily inside. His erection hardened with such force that he wondered if his body was already in the throes of climax. As her cool finger slipped deeper, gliding easily on a greasy layer of lubrication and shocking him with undiscovered sensations, John lowered his head and released a soft moan of satisfaction.

‘If you’re going to speak at all you’ll call me Goddess,’ she said firmly.

‘Goddess,’ he murmured.

The name suited her. He was about to tell her as much when she dragged her finger from his backside. The muscle clenched tight and a spasm of obscene pleasure rippled through his rear, bringing him to the verge of orgasm. He resisted the impulse with superhuman force and a frantic gasp.

‘Don’t even think about coming yet,’ she hissed.

Again, his rectum was caressed. This time, instead of a single finger threatening to penetrate him, John could
feel
the pressure of two slick digits on the muscle. He forced himself to relax as she pushed them forward. He wondered why she was taking so much time and pleasure in stretching him. It was only when he remembered her gargantuan strap-on that the truth of his predicament struck home. As her fingers delved deeper, forcing his anus wide and teasing previously undiscovered pleasures from his body, John clenched his teeth and whispered, ‘Goddess.’

There were four of them on the bed, lying in a loose square so they could touch hand to thigh, head to groin, mouth to crotch. Ted’s face was buried between Denise’s thighs. Denise had her lips wrapped around Phil’s erection. Phil slurped at the split of Joanne’s pussy while Joanne sucked Ted’s cock.

They were all naked. The excess of nudity, sweaty flesh and saliva-silvered genitals made Linda shiver. She wasn’t sure if her reaction came from revulsion or fascination. It was certainly exciting to see so many of her friends involved in such explicit intimacy, but she felt slightly miffed that none of them had thought to invite her to join the game. Pushing the jealous thoughts from her mind, recognising them for what they were and realising they weren’t appropriate at a party like this, she joined the quartet on the bed and stroked Ted’s chest.

He grinned at her, moved his mouth from Denise’s sex, and gave Linda a chaste kiss on the cheek. His breath was flavoured with the perfume of Denise’s pussy, his lips moist with the rich juice that glistened on their neighbour’s cleft. When he moved his face away from hers, Linda could feel the sticky gloss of Denise’s wetness upon her cheek.

Denise, noticing that Ted had moved away from her, glanced at Linda and then grinned. ‘Hell of a party.’