Chapter 7
Suzanne found herself stretched over a straight-backed chair.
Her wrists had been tied to the two legs which were now on the right-hand side of the chair. Her ankles were fastened to the two legs at the left-hand side of the chair, and a length of cord had been used to do it.
Her panties had been pulled down to her ankles, baring her behind which stuck up in the air and trembled slightly as the gaze of her father stared down on it.
Her spankings had progressed in severity.
They had started out to be hand-spankings.
Later, they were spankings with the hand, followed by spankings with the belt, or, to be more exact, with belts of various lengths, widths and weights.
Sometimes they were leather belts, and often they'd be doubled over so that they really hurt. Then there had been the hairbrush spankings, mostly with the smooth side of the brush, but sometimes with the smooth side, followed by a dose of those hard bristles.
This time, however, was the most severe of all.
Daddy had watched the confrontation between Suzanne and her mother.
He had arrived on the scene to hear them screaming, even through the closed door of the hotel room. He had clearly heard Suzanne taunt her mother about the relation between spankings and sex. He had not really heard what preceded that, when Suzanne's mother had started in on her.
He had opened the door to see his wife virtually fly through the opened window. He recalled the nightmare which Suzanne had related to him some time before and he knew that in effect, this was a re-enactment of what she had described.
Taking these facts and observations into account, he naturally held Suzanne responsible, in part, at least, for his wife's accident.
Luckily, their hotel rooms had been on the second floor, and so Suzanne's mother had not been killed. She was, however, injured, because she had not landed gracefully.
Salvatore rushed her to the nearest hospital. It was their good fortune that a room was available, and they decided that the best thing would be for her to take it and to be examined by a qualified doctor.
This meant staying in the hospital for two or three days, at least.
"Some way to spend a vacation," she moaned.
"Yes, but we have to see to it that you get the best of care," Salvatore told her. "We'll celebrate when you're feeling better," he added.
"I hope they don't notice that I'm more bruised on my bottom than anywhere else," she said, rubbing herself there.
"Did you fall flat on your ass?" Salvatore asked, unable to hold back a grin. It was rather amusing for him, a devoted ass man as he was.
"No, silly," she replied. "I'm sore there from the spankings you've given me. In fact, it won't make sense to the doctors if they find my new bruises and then find the ones on my ass, too. It will confuse them."
"They'll probably think I was the one who threw you through the window," Salvatore said laughing, although it was very possible that such an assumption would indeed be made.
"Well, I guess I can live with it. I also guess that they've seen battered asses before. After all, this is New York. I'm sure it happens all the time."
Salvatore didn't know how often it happened, but his hands were just itching to smack ass. Specifically, his hands were itching to get at the naughty ass of his young daughter. He thought that she had practically gotten away with murder.
He intended to take care of her, but good.
And so, he approached the subject with his wife, while Suzanne remained back at the hotel room. Salvatore had wanted to tie Suzanne to the bed, just to assure that she would remain there as well as to give her some time to think about what was coming to her.
But of course, there had been no time for that. They had rushed to the hospital.
"What exactly happened between you and Suzanne," he said.
Even though Salvatore had waited until he thought the moment was right to bring up this subject, it took his wife by surprise.
"Well, I can't really say," she explained in all earnestness. "I can't even remember it now. It's as if I've blocked it out. All I remember is that I couldn't help myself. Whatever I said to her came almost automatically, and one thing just led to another, and it all happened so fast."
"I know that she provoked you," Salvatore told his wife.
"Well, she is a provocative little girl. And she's growing up."
"Yes, I know, and that's why she needs stricter discipline now than she's ever needed before. She needs a heavier hand. She needs, in fact, more than a hand. She needs a real good licking and I intend to give it to her."
"Don't be too hard on her, dear. Remember, she's still a delicate girl."
"Don't worry," Salvatore said, rolling up his sleeves to expose his hairy, muscled forearms. "I'll be able to know just how much to give her."
His wife knew that the girl would not be let off easily.
She would feel the full brunt of the spanking, that much was certain.
He kissed his wife on the lips, forcing his tongue down her throat. He had a stiff boner, and he suggested that since no nurses had been around, he fuck her there in the hospital bed.
"Salvatore, no," she said, pushing him away. "I swear, you're absolutely terrible at times. I don't know what to do with you."
"Take my stiff dick down your pussy hole," he rasped, stroking the bulging boner through his pants. "It'll be exciting to do it here in the hospital room."
"Salvatore," she said, still pushing him away. "Wasn't it exciting enough to do it in the hotel room? I mean, really, enough is enough."
"No, enough is never enough if I have my way," he said, climbing into the bed anyway.
"Stop it," his wife said, as Salvatore forced his hand under her body, feeling her ass globes. Then he moved his fingers to her pussy and massaged the cuntal flesh even though she held her legs together and tried to keep him out.
But she couldn't stop him from feeling her up, or from withdrawing a hand covered with dripping cunt cream.
He placed it to his nostrils, and then he licked it off.
"You can be so damn crude," she complained. "Get out of this bed before I call the nurse. Then you'll really be in trouble, even if you are my husband."
Aroused as he was by her pussy, and her breasts, and her ass, and her position in the hospital bed, and by her dripping snatch juice which was all over his fingers, and by the sensations in his own big rod which was pulsating like crazy and making his balls tingle, he just had to have her.
Besides, his ire was up. He thought that she was being unruly, and an unruly woman, be it his wife or his daughter, was something he couldn't abide.
"You're askin' for a licking with my belt, woman," he declared.
His eyebrows were arched and his nostrils were flaring like a bull's.
She knew that he might get carried away and demand that she assume the position and take another flogging, right there in the private room.
It was then that the nurse opened the door.
"Oh, excuse me," she said, realizing that she had caught the two in a compromising position. She realized that they were husband and wife, and yet, she also realized that Salvatore had no business being in the bed of his injured wife, especially with his street shoes still on his feet, rubbing against the clean sheets.
But her polite entrance was enough. She didn't have to say more.
Shamed, a bit, by the authority she represented, Salvatore felt like a boy who's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
Actually, he was caught with his hand in the honey pot.
The honey pot of his wife's tender pussy!
He got up out of her bed, although his prick was still busting at the front of his pants. The nurse had the decency and good sense not to look between his legs although she was no fool and knew what she might find there under the circumstances.
Besides, she was a lesbian, and had little interest in cock.
She saw enough of them in her rounds of the hospital rooms.
As for Salvatore, he realized that it was time to make his departure.
"Visiting hours were over a long time ago," the nurse added. "You were permitted to stay here since your wife was a new arrival, but now ... "
"Now you must ask me to leave," Salvatore said, filling in the words.
"Yes, I'm afraid that's correct. I must administer an enema to her now," the nurse added, and both of them looked down at the rubber enema bag in her hand.
"Well, I'll be going then," Salvatore said, backing off.
Naturally, he was frustrated. He had wanted to fuck his wife there in her hospital bed. It had been a longtime fantasy of his.
But she wouldn't cooperate.
Well, it must have all been for the best, he thought. He had to get home to administer some well-deserved discipline to the bottom of his very naughty daughter.
His cock was still half hard when he thought about Suzanne.
It was her ass that came into the pictures in his mind.
"I'll take care of you another time, real soon," Salvatore promised his wife. "For now, I'll leave you in good hands," he added, bowing slightly to the nurse.
It was rare for this macho man to make such a gesture to a woman, but the nurse's statuesque figure and self-assured manner almost invited that.
Nurse Vanessa Stevenson was a lesbian, but she did not fit the old fashioned stereotypes of what a lesbian would look like. She was a new lesbian - a woman who was certainly attractive enough to have any man she wanted, and yet, she chose to limit her sexual affairs to those with other women.
Her reasons for this were many and varied, and certainly they did not have anything to do with an inability to function sexually with men.
Now twenty-seven, in her teen years she had received many sexual invitations from both boys and from men. She had, in fact, taken a few of them up on these invites.
While she was able to enjoy the feeling of man's shaven stubble rubbing against her soft pussy lips, and was able to orgasm when a male tongue explored her clit and her inner cunt meat, and was able to writhe quite naturally when a man bit on her nipples, and was able to respond with throbbing lust when a man fucked her, she still always felt that something was missing from these experiences.
She discovered her real needs in nursing school, of all places.
She studied in New Jersey, and since she did not live there, she took up residence in the women's dormitory of the school.
Her roommate was an attractive girl also, and in fact, the two were almost mirror images of each other. Brenda was, perhaps, a bit stouter, although it certainly looked good on her with her sweet breasts and rounded thighs.
Vanessa was the more voluptuous one of the two, however, with her long, shapely legs and size forty knockers. She held herself like a princess, always walking with her head held high. She used to practice walking holding books balanced on her head. She had once wanted to be a fashion model, but her blossoming bosom made her an unlikely candidate. Not that she wasn't beautiful enough for it, but she was a bit bustier than the traditionally flat-chested beauties who filled such roles.
Anyway, she and Brenda were having a discussion about men late one night in the dorm room. Both of them had returned from dates with young doctors.
Neither of them had experienced a very good time of it.
"We were sitting there in his apartment," Brenda began, telling of her date, "and he said that he wanted to take my pulse. He opened his eyes real wide as if he didn't feel anything pulsing there at all. Well, naturally this alarmed me. I figured that he was a very mild mannered guy but this bedside manner belied it."
Vanessa, undressing for bed, told Brenda that she was listening, even though she was in the process of unsnapping her bra and allowing her big breast mounds to fall free of their silk and lace confinement.
Brenda continued.
"He said that he would have to listen for my heartbeat, which by this time was racing so fast, I could feel it against my bosom," Brenda said. "I knew that if I could feel it beating, he would surely hear it.
"He placed his ear against my chest. He said he would have to open my blouse. Naturally, I didn't think anything of that. He's a doctor. He looks at naked women dozens of times a day. They may not all be as built as I am, but still, you expect some professional treatment from a doctor, don't you?"
"Sure you do," Vanessa said, sitting beside Brenda now on the same bed as she did her nightly breast massage. Each night, she stroked her large bosoms in a circular, upward movement. She firmly believed that this would keep her heavy chest from sagging, and she expected to have upturned globes for many years.
"Well, the next thing I know, he had his ear on one of my nipples. Yes, it was actually in his ear. My nipple was inside his ear! He moved his head around in such a way that it felt as if he was fucking my nipple with the inside of his ear. I know it sounds perverted, but that's what I was thinking, and it frightened me.
"With his tongue, he started licking my other nipple and sucking it into his mouth."
"That bastard! Boy, what nerve," Vanessa said, stroking Brenda's honey blonde hair to comfort her.
"That's exactly what he was. A bastard. He was just hot for sex and he thought he'd use his clever bedside manner to lure me to him."
They agreed that he had quite a nerve, and Vanessa's story of her date that night was equally as shocking in its own way.
She told it.
"I went to this party given by several of the new interns at the hospital. It was quite a bash. They had liquor bottles hanging from the ceiling with tubes running from them as if they were specimen bottles of some kind.
"My date was very handsome, but he got drunk very quickly. He had beer on his breath even before he picked me up for the evening, and after we'd been at the party for about an hour or so, he'd consumed at least four straight drinks.
"He was drunk as a skunk."
"No kidding," Brenda said, taking her turn to undress now.
Vanessa was back to massaging her breasts now, as she did every night, as she sat on the bed with Brenda wearing only a brief pair of black panties.
Her long, bright red hair hung down her back.
Brenda bared her pussy and listened as Vanessa continued.
"He got real affectionate when he was drunk, though, and I found that rather amusing and charming, in a way. It wasn't that I really liked this guy. I had just met him at the training hospital the week before, and aside from one very straight lunch together, this was our first date."
"But I always think that an affectionate drunk is a lot nicer than a rowdy one, don't you, honey?"
If Brenda was taken aback by her roommate's affectionate use of the word "honey," she showed no sign of it. They had both been through the mill, so to speak, on their dates of that evening, and now they were baring their souls to each other, as well as baring a number of other things.
It was only natural the two attractive girls would become close.
Vanessa continued.
"Anyway, he was hugging me around and kissing my neck, and then he said that he had to go to the bathroom and that he wanted me to come with him."
"He actually wanted me to join him inside the bathroom. Well, I figured, why not? What have I got to lose? Apparently, it met something to him, and practically nothing to me."
"He unzipped himself and pulled out his cock. It was big, and he stroked the thick foreskin, pulling it back to reveal the reddish, wet dick underneath. He took my hand and placed it on his prick. 'Hold my cock while I take a piss,' he told me. You'd think he'd be adjusted to the human body, I mean him being a doctor and all. But really it's quite the contrary, he was fascinated with his own urine!"
"Furthermore, he got his kicks out of this scene. He laughed and called it water sports as he directed his stream from the bowl to my feet!"
"I really got angry then. And so then I told him that I didn't enjoy getting my feet soaked with his hot urine, he told me that he would gladly get down on his hands and knees and lick off every drop of his own stuff and swallow it!"
"Needless to say, I got out of there real fast, but not until I had wiped my wet feet dry on his trousers. He was apologizing to me as soon as he got out of the bathroom, but I was ready to get my coat and go home alone. And that's exactly what I did."
"I don't blame you," Brenda said, drawing Vanessa close to her. "You went through hell tonight. Poor baby," she added, stroking Vanessa's long, red hair.
They held each other like that for a while, and then they felt each other's nipples.
Brenda's mouth was down on Vanessa's soft, warm, long and smooth neck.
It was only a minute later that she was kissing it gently, with a series of wet little kisses.
"Oh that feels so good," she moaned. "Do it more. Do it all over me."
Vanessa was on her back. Her large, naked breasts were exposed like ripe melons.
Then she covered each round globe with hundreds of wet kisses.
She didn't miss a spot, including the nipples and the circles around them.
She rubbed her own pussy against Vanessa's pussy as she straddled her on the bed and made love to her roommate's beautiful breasts with her hands and with her mouth.
That was how it happened. It seemed perfectly natural for them.
After Vanessa had writhed below the moistening slit of her girlfriend, she started to try the more aggressive role. She turned Brenda over, and started to kiss her. But instead of working on the girl's breasts, she moved down between them, kissing the cleavage, and then moved down further, kissing the smooth belly, and then found the belly button, and then found the pussy.
She knew how it felt to have a mouth down there, since she had been sucked and eaten by many men. But she knew how to do it to another woman so much better than the men had done it to her. Why? Because she had the same physical equipment down there. She knew how it felt to have a tongue muscle swirling around her clit.
And so she worked Brenda into a frenzy, building her up each time with her sweet tongue. Working in and out and around like a little prick.
When she had Brenda practically climbing the walls, she would stop.
She would allow the girl to compose herself a bit, and then she would start again.
When she felt Brenda's legs wrapped tightly around her body, when she felt Brenda's fingernails digging into her back, she knew that she had her going.
But most of all, she could tell by the way the girl's little snatch closed upon her tongue when she was approaching climax. After all, Vanessa's own pussy had done that many times, on her own fingers, and on men's pricks.
So it was only natural for her to understand what it meant when the walls of a hot, tight, juicy pussy closed and snapped around her own tongue.
She had brought Brenda to near climax six or seven times. This time, it would have been cruel to hold out any longer. She started to thrust her tongue in and out so fast that it became a blur. She was working with a frenzy to bring Brenda to orgasm.
She felt the quivers deep inside the convulsing pussy.
She felt them with her tongue.
That was when Brenda started to scream, forcing Vanessa's face deep into her cuntal pudding as it gushed gobs of sweet nectar into her sucking mouth.
After that night, their lesbian encounters continued through to graduation.
They parted tearfully upon graduation, with Brenda going off to her hometown of Atlanta, Georgia to practice her profession. She had been a real sweet Georgia peach. And a juicy one, too.
Strangely enough, Vanessa, who started working in New York, received a letter from Brenda some months later. Brenda was marrying a male doctor.
It was something of a jolt to Vanessa, who had believed that Brenda had realized her full potential as a lesbian. But one can never be certain of such things. Sexuality is ever-changing.
And now, here was Nurse Vanessa Stevenson with an enema bag in her hand.
And was Mrs. Salvatore Amorelli, being told to raise her naked bottom for the long, rubber hose which Vanessa was greasing with Vaseline.
And back at the hotel, the horny Salvatore had just entered the room where his naughty daughter was waiting. Angrily, he grabbed her and tied her to the chair, exposing her ass for his punishment straps.
It was to be a more severe spanking than usual, for he was sure she deserved it, what with the way she had behaved toward her mother.
But the telephone was ringing, and Salvatore wondered who might be calling Suzanne's room at this time of night. He looked at the girl, bound to the chair, with her naked buns high in the air, awaiting a spanking.
She was helpless and vulnerable now, and even the special powers which she was certain she possessed would not help her now.
As hard as she concentrated, there was no getting over the fact that she knew who was calling though. It could only be Mike, the New York boy who had spanked her and fucked her. She tried to close her dripping, newly screwed and deviriginized pussy, but the way her father had tied her legs to the chair made that impossible.
Her cunny was quivering.
"Say hello," Salvatore said as he picked up the telephone.
Weakly, Suzanne uttered a faint hello into the mouthpiece.
Then Salvatore took the phone back and placed it to his ear.
Sure enough, it was Mike, and he was horny.
"Hi, baby. It's me. I was thinking of that sweet little pussy I fucked today, and I just had to call you and jerk off over the phone. Talk to me about the way you like your hot little buns spanked before you get fucked and I'll drop a big load of cum."
Suzanne's Daddy slammed down the phone.
He reached between the legs of his bound daughter.
The cunt was dripping as he forced his fingers slowly into the hole. He was fingering her cunt, anxious to feel that tightly stretched membrane which defined her virginity.
There would be hell to pay if it were missing.
And it was missing.