Jayne

Not a plain Jayne I hope. Past my best? Probably, but I know some men describe me as a GILF. I can get my pussy filled by plenty of guys once. They are all married though and aren't interested in a second time unless it's me giving them the good stuff their wives won't. Having been on the wrong side of a cheating relationship I'm not about to drop that particular shit bomb on someone else. Once you get to sixty it seems a bar against an equal relationship goes up. Well, I'll never see sixty again, I won't see sixty-two again and there isn't too much of sixty-three remaining.

I'm one of those women who experienced my change early. I went off sex at thirty-five. It wasn't a slow change, some bastard flipped a switch and my lady garden with its gentle flowing spring turned into a desert overnight. Now, the bodily upheavals have finished I enjoy sex as much, if not more than the next girl, OK then, the next old tart as most of my one-night stand shaggers call me.

Even as I went through the worst bits of the menopause, I was as happy as Larry getting hubby off. Hand jobs, blow jobs, anal all except my poor dried up oversensitive puss we're available to him whenever and as often as he wanted. At that time I loved the bastard and if he said get the lube and get over the back of the settee, I got over the back of the settee clutching a tube of lube. I'm sick to the back teeth of giving and getting nothing much back. I need to find a way of ensuring my bell gets rung.

I loved my old man with a passion until I found the proverbial strange car in our driveway. A fucking slut, a bimbo, bright enough only to drive an automatic He was up her arse in my bedroom on my bed using my lube. I hated the bastard with a passion then. I ran off to my best friend's flat after I had used my phone to record these events for posterity. I tried to kick him in the nuts but he has 8 inches on me in height and is very nearly double my body weight.

My BFF is Lucy, she divorced her shitbag husband three years ago. I poured my heart out to her, she said not one word but handed me her divorce lawyer's card. Janna Riley is a shark, a great white who specialises in leaving cheating husbands with their balls and very little else. There was no prenup, no grounds for anything much other than a 50/50 split, or so I thought. Jenna didn't quite see it that way, according to her, I brought the girls up single-handed. I sacrificed my career, I was working as a solicitor's clerk when I left work to have Katy, my eldest daughter. Milly, my youngest was still at university, doing a post-grad at Cambridge. She spent her nights at her friend's flat in Cambridge but on paper, she lived at home with me. Jenna got me the house until I decided to sell it. I got 75% of everything else. She got him a month in the stocks and he had to buy the rotten fruit and veg for passers-by to pelt him with. I made the last bit up but I did visualise it I also dreamed about strapping the bastard over a vaulting horse and striping his arse until he was screaming none stop. I did get his XK120 though, still got it. That hurts the bastard more than losing his house. He doesn't give a shit about our girls, they don't give a shit about him now either. He's going to be a sad old lonely man one day, if he's not already. He's going to be working till he drops and he is watching me enjoy our savings and pension. Do I look like I give a fuck.

Three years later he hates me, I don't give a rat's arse about him and my girls loved their mum. Like I said a lonely old man. I didn't want to remain in that house, a part of him was still here. I went back to Jenna if I sold it, I had to give him 25% of the final sale price. I needed the money to buy another place to live. I got a job but with my work record, I was earning peanuts. I needed the investment income from my 75%, of our savings to keep my standard of living. Some may say I'm selfish, perhaps I am but he lit the fire and I didn't get burned. I'm not sharing my burn cream with him now, let him suffer.

I may have only been a legal clerk when we started our family. With my law degree, I would have gone places if I hadn't become a stay-at-home mum. So I let the place out, a four-bedroom detached in Chery Hinton, Cambridge is worth a bob or two and fetches me a nice monthly rent. I found my new dream home. It was over in Suffolk, a run-down farmhouse and a bit of land. I wanted to garden and keep bees and chickens. At the time I wanted to create a grandchildren magnate for the future. I had plans for my two daughters to give me three grandchildren each. I had visions of me helping to raise them. That picture came closer to happening when I found the house I wanted. I found a builder with all the right recommendations and I had the money set aside for the work I phoned Graham, the builder and told him to start. As I put the phone down after telling the bank to make the required transfers, Lucy, my BFF phoned. That phone call caused a huge shift in my world axis and my life changed forever.

The big difference between my divorce and Lucy's divorce was I divorced a wealthy arsehole. Lucy's ex was a bum, with loads of ideas and no drive or work ethic to turn those ideas into money. Lucy was forced to put her only talent into earning her living. Lucy, my BFF earned a dam fine living on her back. That's not strictly true. At first, she was an escort but she soon learned there was more money to be made in tips than the agency she worked for paid in wages. Lucy is six feet in her heels. In pretty extreme heels she towers over a lot of men. It wasn't long before she got a name for herself and that name was mistress. Soon her spare room was refurnished with strange bedroom furniture and black and red leather nearly soft furnishings.

Lucy was Ms Calm-Collected. I never knew her to panic about anything. So I was surprised, to say the least with the call I received just after talking to the insufferable prick at my bank. My unflappable mate was in meltdown mode.

I couldn't get a word in edgeways, she wasn't making any sense at all. "You said anything, absolutely anything, you said you owed me and you would do anything I needed. I know you think I'm a trollop and common prostitute but I need help and I need it tomorrow."

I had to shout down the phone at her. Lucy, I'm on my way around now. Put the kettle on and for god's sake, calm down. She started again, and I interrupted her, "shut up Lucy," I'm on my way.

"What in hell is the matter with you woman I asked as she answered the door to me. She had cooled down a bit. She sat me at her kitchen table and explained to me her maid had walked out this morning, just before her client had arrived. That wasn't a big problem for Lucy, she could easily wing that, tomorrow, however, she was hosting a group of men, they were all from the same posh school she said, it's all strict teacher, classroom and school canes. There are six of the sick bastards and they are very influential she said. I just have to have a maid, you don't have to do any mucky stuff just welcome them, serve coffee before we start while I pretend, I'm getting ready and tea and cake when we are finished. It's easy money, they have exams and tests, real ones, and I have them written out. You have to help me mark the papers, the one with the lowest mark gets the head boy badge. The head boy has to give the other five other boys head. Yeh, sick fuckers I know, the posher they are the weirder they are.

Don't you have a backup I asked. She has several girls she can usually count on but it's the end of term. All the students who are happy to earn a nice fee are away shagging boyfriends or each other. Please, please, Jayne. It means everything to my business. You can wear a disguise if you want, I have wigs, little hats, even a veil, please help me.

I don't suppose you will take a fee if I offer one but I'll take you up to town for tea. I'll get tickets for Covent Garden, anything.

Will I have to watch you perform with these men?

I don't screw any of my clients, they are allowed to go to the bathroom to wank if they take a good caning, but that's it. Please help me out, if I have to cancel this it will ruin my reputation.

How could I refuse, it wasn't going to be a burden and I'd get to see six naughty boys being caned by my BFF. I gave Lucy a big grin, "I think I'd like to, but what do I wear?" Lucy's relief was palpable. "I've just the thing. Lucy was just leading me to her playroom. I've been in there before for a look, she has two dressing rooms off the playroom. One for her and one for clients. I assumed we were on our way to hers. She stopped dead and cursed "Ohh Fuck". There's a client in there, ohh fuckerty fuck, I forgot about him when Lilly, her first reserve maid got back to her with the bad news she was in Lloret de Mar and so we're most of her friends.

"We can't leave him, what's he doing," I asked. He's bent over my spanking bench waiting for me to finish him off, he needs his weekly paddling, I promised him he wouldn't be able to sit tomorrow as he has been so naughty".

"What did he do?"

"Nothing you twit, I have to invent infractions for these sick fuckers. Do you want to watch?"

"Oh, can I Lucy, won't he mind?"

"Of course, he won't mind, he gets off on humiliation, not that he's getting off until the end of the month. But if you want to see a man beg, really beg and mean it I can give him a tease!"

I think my eyes gave me away. "Follow my lead," said Lucy, "Don't talk to him, as far as your concerned he isn't there untill I give you the nod. Then do as I tell you, I think you will enjoy this."

I followed Lucy into her playroom, it was candle-lit, real candles, not nasty electric ones. The guy was strapped to a spanking frame that looked as though it was made from old railway sleepers. Apart from the straps, a blindfold and what looked like a horse's bit and bridle, he was bare-naked. I could see, even in that light his arse was glowing red already.

"As you are more of a disappointment as a man than usual I am going to give you twenty-five more with a paddle. The one I reserve for my most disgusting clients. Jayne, my new maid will be watching you, try to act like a real man for once in your sad and sorry life worm. If you cry, I will invite her to match my efforts to correct you."

While she was talking to this poor guy, she was, with her fingernail, tracing the welts a cane had obviously recently left on his arse.

"As you can see Jayne, this worm has a cock the size of a caterpillar. His poor wife sends him to me. He is unable to satisfy her so while the worm is here, she is entertaining their gardener and getting what this worm cannot deliver. We will leave him to ponder his inadequacies."

I followed Lucy into her dressing room as Lucy shut the door, she told me the playroom was soundproofed, "I'm sure you have questions, ask away."

"Does his wife send him?"

"Oh yes, she pays my fee. If he didn't come here, he'd never get to cum at all.

"Never get to cum" I repeated?"

"No, didn't you see his chastity?"

"No, I didn't."

Lucy picked out some clothes from one of the wardrobes surrounding the room. She handed me a pair of stilettos, they looked to have six-inch heels with locking ankle straps. The padlocks were dummies but they looked realistic. A corset that she soon had me gasping for breath in, she giggled and then let me have an inch more breathing room. Latex arm-length gloves, black seamed nylon stockings, a choker and a pair of ridiculously frilly knickers completed my uniform. I looked just like a tart's maid in the mirror.

I couldn't believe how hard Lucy applied the heavy red rubber paddle to this poor guy's arse. It was equally unbelievable when he thanked Lucy for correcting him. Lucy gave him another dose of humiliation. He did not thank me! She added another five strokes to his total and the poor fucker had to start again. He was bawling like a baby when Lucy handed me the paddle.

"Baby is blubbing, twenty-five more and if I don't think you mean every one of them you will get the same you shameless tart."

Lucy gave me a big theatrical wink and mouthed "Go for it girl," I felt the impact travel up the shaft of the paddle the splat spoke directly to my Pussy, as he warbled "Thank you Mistress Jayne" It had had pussy gushing. I was hooked, at twenty-five I didn't want to stop but Lucy took the paddle from my hand.

"look at that thing, Lucy said pointing to what looked to me to be a very respectable six-inch plus of throbbing cock. Imagine the disappointment of his poor wife finding only that on offer when she pays so much for me to bring him up to size. I swear I don't know what to do. Try to see if you can encourage it to grow past the nine-year-old boy stage. Again my pussy was gushing, I bent to try to lick it.

No no no cried Lucy. He doesn't get anything other than a rubber-gloved hand. I gave him only five strokes with my latex-clad fingers before Lucy stopped me. Look at the mess he's making. Precum was flowing from the tip of his cock. It had to be seven inches by now and it was pulsing with his heartbeat. This poor excuse for a man is a professor of mathematics at Kings College. Can you imagine the disappointment of a young girl prepared to put in extra work to better her grades and she finds a child-size pe-pe.

With his wife's help, we must prevent that from ever happening again. Pass me that chastity belt. He did indeed have a chastity belt. Using a hook made from what I took to be stainless steel wire but Lucy told me later was silver she hooked it through the belt's cock tube then hooked it into a piercing through his urethra.

"In the fridge is a bowl of iced water with a face cloth in it, fetch it please Jayne." It wasn't the scream that surprised me the most, it was that I came. I came very hard when he did scream. His erection shrivelled away in half a second, Lucy quickly drew his shrunken cock into the tube, fastened the waist strap of the belt around Professor Worm's waist and bringing the crotch member up captured the tube, with his cock inside it and his balls trapped as well it was done with one easy movement.

Get dressed and go Lucy told him. Within seconds he was out of the playroom and I thought he was gone. As I was making coffee for Lucy and tea for me I had the surprise of my life. The Professor entered the kitchen and took a chair at the table. Lucy popped a plate of cakes and scones on the table and asked the professor if he wanted tea, coffee or something stronger. I was even more surprised he had sat on a hard wooden kitchen chair. We had tea and cakes together and a surreal conversation about his group of advanced mathematics students. When he left Lucy explained his wife was getting on a bit and was unable to bring the crop or cane down hard enough. He was also being punished. His wife had also caught his selling grades to female students for sexual favours. Suddenly I didn't feel sorry for him any more. Lucy beat the ever-loving shit out of his hide once a week. Once a month he got a ruined orgasm and twice a year, on his birthday and at Easter, he was allowed a proper orgasm. Easter because Christmas was too near his birthday.