Chapter 3
Holly
I feel so deliciously sore the next day at work in the library. My bottom aches with every stride that I take as I tidy up the shelves, replacing books properly after lazy people. Molly slid a vibrator up inside my pussy after breakfast and I have a fat butt plug inside my anus, stretching my rectal ring wide. Both are securely held in by the tight chastity belt and I know that they cannot fall out and make me die of mortification yet still I worry. Will anybody notice the slightly strange way I am walking around the floor of the library? Will Susie, the other girl with me today, hear the vibrator? I cannot even when I go to the toilet and bend my head right down so how can she? But that fear remains, keeping me on edge throughout the hours. My clit tingles delightfully from the effects of the machine inside me which changes gear unexpectedly, catching me out by increasing speed randomly or pulsing in a new pattern. Cramps, I whisper to Susie as she looks across at me when I gasp and she nods sympathetically. What would she think if she knew the true reason?
I flush at the thought and pray that Molly will not be cruel enough to send me in one day with a very loud vibrator buzzing inside my hot slit. She had had her moments in the past, relishing in my utter humiliation. I remember vividly the revealing outfit she had made me dress in one night. Skirt barely covering the cheeks of my arse, no knickers and just the leather strap of my chastity belt protecting my modesty, transparent blouse with no bra underneath and hold up stockings along with high heel shoes. She had dropped me on the corner of the red light district and left me there, my pussy instantly wet with the frisson of fear pulsing through my body. My face had flamed red with embarrassment whenever anybody passed, especially all the lustful men, eyeing me surreptitiously even if they were with their wives of girlfriends. My throat had gone as dry as the Sahara when one bloke stopped and asked me how much I wanted for a quickie in his car.
"On the rag at the moment so I can only give you a blowjob," I had eventually forced out, crimson with shame even as my slit leaked love dew copiously.
"Forty quid, love. In the alley back there and you can suck me then I'll come on those gorgeous tits," he responded with a leer and I nodded, hardly trusting my voice as he reached out and took my hand then led me into the seclusion of the narrow passage just a few yards away.
Molly
Work is bearable as my boss was in a meeting with his boss. That means that I don't have to put up with his inane questions or correct any more of his mistakes. Instead, I can analyse the financial markets and try and make some money for my clients: the ones I wish to encourage to go with me when I leave the firm to set up my own company. I smile secretively as I tap away on the computer keyboard, thinking about Holly walking round the library, outwardly so respectable in her long black skirt and red jumper. One day, I will have to dress her up sexily and surprise the people she works with as well as the subscribers to the library. I imagine her bending over to pick up a book from a low shelf, short skirt riding up her thighs and then revealing the curve of her buttocks, beautifully striped by me beforehand with a cane. The sudden intake of breath from the watchers, her red face as she realises what everybody can see and I lick my lips at the thought then suddenly remember her in the alleyway a coupe of years ago, the punter grunting away as she slurped on his fat knob while I peered round the corner surreptitiously.
Her eyes had flickered across to me after a few moments and I had smiled out into the gloom and watched on as she had sucked away fervently, trying to get the man to come quickly. His long cock had slithered in and out of her soft lips swiftly while he pulled her blouse apart roughly to bare her breasts. Another few deep thrusts into her warm mouth and then his cock was out and pointing at her face as he stroked it. A deep grunt and then came the first spurt of white cream arcing through the air and landing on her soft lips. More splashed over her cheeks and chin and then the rest decorated her pale mounds, leaving sticky trails of spunk sliding slowly down her skin.
"Disgusting!" I had observed in my best English lady of the manor voice and his head had jerked upwards immediately before he staggered away down the alley, desperately trying to tuck his half-erect prick back into his trousers while I smiled widely as I looked down at my sister's slimed beauty.
"Did you get his money, Holly?" I asked after snapping at her to follow me back to the car which I had parked a hundred yards or so away in an empty trading estate. I knew the answer before she even opened her mouth but I still shook my head in disapproval as she shame-facedly said that she had forgotten to get him to pay in advance.
"A useless whore but a good cocksucker!" I opined as we reached the car. "As your sisterly pimp, I am going to have to teach you a painful lesson. Always get the money first, girl!"
I swung her round and bent her over the bonnet, yanked up her skirt and took off my heavy leather belt, folding it in two while she looked nervously over her shoulder, face still stained by the man's come.
"Forty strokes for the forty pounds you are lacking!" I remarked coldly and then I whipped the belt down and made her hiss out in pain as a livid red welt appeared as if by magic on her tender whiteness. It is so enjoyable to watch her bottom cheeks ripple under the impact of the leather and to hear her agony expressed increasingly loudly. The belt curves round her hip and leaves marks there and I switch sides, wishing to even up the redness that has now blossomed on her pale flesh. I kept a count in my head of the number of strokes then halt when I have reached twenty-seven and ask her how many she has received.
"I don't know, mistress," she mutters, turning her head so that her tear-filled eyes stare straight into mine.
"Guess, Holly, I will allow you to be two out either way or I will start all over again!"
I don't know what I was wishing for. Did I want her to fail or succeed? I loved the thought of allocating her another forty strokes, cutting the leather down into that soft beauty and yet I almost felt sorry for her too. She gulped and dithered, unwilling to commit herself in case she gets it wrong so I whipped the belt down hard and told her to give me an answer or I would start again regardless.
"Thirty?" she ventured eventually, nervously biting her lip then her face fell as she watched me smile slightly.
"Incorrect, sister!" I stated and I began again, lifting the belt high and allowing the heaviness of the leather to bring it down painfully on her defenceless arse cheeks. I wondered if she knew how close she was to gaining a reprieve as I beat her hard, striking the back of her tender thighs and striping them from the back of her knees up. I knew that she was trying to keep count now even in the midst of her agony and the fact that I had taught her a little lesson in submission pleased me no end.
Holly
I think back to the sheer shame of sucking the man's cock and then the explosion of his spunk over my face and tits before my sister's voice had echoed out of the darkness. Then my punishment for being so lax and not getting any money. I had learnt then to make sure that I counted every stroke afterwards when my mistress, my twin sister, was whipping me for her enjoyment...and mine! My slit had been leaking like a sieve when she had finally finished and ordered me into the car where I had sat wincing and hissing in pain as she had deliberately chosen a route with as many speed bumps as possible on our way back home. It had taken me a few minutes crouched down in the car to then clean up the stickiness that had oozed out of my labia and coated her leather seats.
The memory makes me smile as does the realisation that I have reached my lunch break. Desperate for the toilet, I dash off, handbag over my shoulder, and squat down in the cubicle, relieved as the golden fluid streams out of me through the tiny hole in the leather belt that encases my sex. I clean myself as best I can and wish that I could slide my finger inside my pussy and tease my clit until I came as the vibrator has me so aroused. It is so aggravating not to be able to touch myself there and I hiss in frustration as I rise from the seat. A thought slides into my mind abruptly and I ferret inside my bag and find my electric toothbrush and stare at the rounded bristles of the head. Would it? There is only one way to find out and I pick it up and slide it down my body until I can push the head against the hole in the belt. It won't all go in but some does and I switch it on then gasp as I feel enough of a tickling sensation in my pussy lips to excite me. The noise buzzes insistently along with the vibrator inside me and I recline against the back of the cistern and feel my flesh slowly but inexorably grow more and more aroused.
I am so close to coming at last when I hear the outside door to the women's restroom squeak open. I almost continue teasing my softness with the head of the toothbrush but manage to overcome my desire and switch it off, afraid that the whining noise will lead to awkward questions. Instead, I wait until I hear a cubicle door shut and then I pack the toothbrush away in my bag and stand, flushing the toilet before I emerge and wash my hands noisily at the sink. Susie comes out of the other stall and smiles at me as she washes her hands and then we exit together while my clit tingles away unsatisfied, nagging away like toothache as I eat my sandwiches.
Molly
The sudden flash of blue lights in my rear view mirror jolts me out of the almost dream-like drive back from work and I curse, wondering what I have done to catch the attention of the police. I pull over obediently into a convenient lay-by and wait in the car, drumming my fingers in annoyance on the steering wheel as I cast my mind over the past few minutes. I had stopped at the last red light and I certainly wasn't speeding and my seatbelt was on too so what was up? I power the window down and stare out in frustration, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as the tall policeman, dark hair plastered to his scalp by the relentless rain, bends down and looks at me, eyes like a summer sky peering into mine.
"This your vehicle, miss?" he inquires in a deep, almost gravelly voice laden with authority.
"Yes, officer" I half-snap back at him, angry at the delay. "And it is registered to me, taxed and insured properly and only passed its MOT last week so I don't see how anything can be wrong with it! Nor was I speeding!"