Maid to Order (16 page)

John’s hand found my head, pulling me closer and forcing me to take him deep. I didn’t mind at all, quite happy to let him make me gag on his erection, even fuck in my throat, just so long as it made Vince jealous to see how dirty and how compliant I could be. He’d seen, swearing under his breath and squeezing his crotch. I got busier still, blatantly enjoying John’s now straining erection, tickling and squeezing at his balls, wanking him into my mouth and performing all the dirty little tricks I’d been taught in America.

‘That’s so good,’ John sighed. ‘You’re lovely, Jemima.’

‘Lovely, yeah. A lovely little tart!’ Vince exclaimed, his voice thick with envy.

I pulled back long enough to stick my tongue out at him before taking John in my mouth again, as deep as I could to make him sigh once more and tighten his grip in my hair. He began to push into my throat, making me gag, but I was determined to be a good girl and didn’t even try to pull away, watching Vince sidelong all the while. It was too much for him. His hand went to his fly and he’d whipped out his own cock, long but skinny, and already erect. I just had to taunt him, and pulled back once more.

‘You dirty bastard!’ I mocked, laughing. ‘Here, have something to wank over.’

I thumbed down the back of my bikini pants, baring my bottom, then shifted a little to give him a good rude view of what he wasn’t going to get, never once letting go of John’s cock. Having him getting so horny over me was almost as good as sucking on John’s erection, and the temptation to stick a hand down my half-lowered bikini bottoms and bring myself off while I sucked was growing fast. It would have been the final insult for Vince too, watching me get off over his friend’s cock when I’d rejected him.

I gave my bottom a wiggle, taunting him, but he got the wrong end of the stick, stepping close with his erection in his hand, obviously intent on taking me from behind. John swore, but didn’t let go of my hair, and I was forced me to grab Vince’s cock, because it was the only thing I could to do stop him putting it up me. I pulled hard, meaning to hurt him, but he merely grunted and closed his hand over mine.

‘Not so hard, love,’ he gasped. ‘There, like that, over your tits.’

John’s grip had tightened and I knew he was going to come, his fist twisted in my hair and his cock jammed down my throat, too deep for me to pull off, while Vince was using my hand to wank himself, squatted down with his erection pointed at my bare chest. I squeezed John’s balls, hard, and felt his cock jerk and fill my mouth. The next moment I was gagging, with spunk exploding from my nose and around my lips, again and again, all over my hand and his overalls too.

‘You filthy bastard, John!’ Vince crowed. ‘Get it out. It’s my turn.’

I’d given in, wanking Vince’s cock of my own accord as I struggled to swallow John’s spunk, although most of it was dripping down my face and chest. The moment he’d withdrawn Vince put his in, sticking it deep without the slightest thought for me. I tried to take him, but he was so long and so thin it had gone right down my throat, making my stomach lurch violently.

‘You suck like a pro!’ he sighed, an instant before I brought my breakfast up all over his cock and balls. ‘Jesus shit, you dozy bitch! Oh who gives a fuck ...’

He trailed off with a sigh, wanking furiously at his cock as I sank down, coughing and retching. My tits were covered in John’s spunk and my own sick, then Vince’s spunk too as he came in my face and down my chest, milking his erection with his hand squashing in the mess I’d made over him, right down to the last few drops, which went in my hair before he shook his cock in a vain effort to get it clean.

‘You’re a dirty pig, do you know that?’ he snapped.

I couldn’t speak, but managed a half-hearted V-sign before climbing unsteadily to my feet, dripping filth. John looked concerned, but I could see he was trying not to laugh, while Vince was only worried about himself.

‘Look at my fucking overalls!’

‘That’ll teach you to stick your cock down girls’ throats!’ I managed. ‘Give me a hand, please, John.’

‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked, obviously reluctant to touch me.

I threw my hands up in despair and started down the beach for the nearest decent sized rock pool. Behind me, they’d begun to argue. I ignored them, getting down in the sand at the bottom of the pool and splashing water in my face. I still wanted to come, but I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of watching me, especially Vince. It would have to be later, but I knew what I’d be thinking of when I came, not John with his gentle but masculine style, but the moment Vince had jammed his cock so deep that I’d been sick down my tits.

He’d started back for the hotel, but John waited for me, apologising for his friend as we walked back towards where I’d left my clothes and towel. I hadn’t bothered to put my top back on, because he’d seen just about everything anyway, which meant that I was in nothing but wet bikini bottoms and flip-flops as a woman jumped down the last couple of rungs of the cliff ladder and started towards me, a woman I recognised immediately – Danielle.

‘Oh shit, it’s my stepmother ... I mean my ... whatever. Say we were swimming, please.’

‘Yeah, but ...’

No doubt he wanted to point out that he was in his overalls, but as he hadn’t bothered to clear up it was pretty obvious what we’d been doing anyway, and the smirk of contempt on Danielle’s face as she approached made it very clear that she’d realised.

‘There you are, Jemima,’ she began. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be working instead of flirting with the workmen? Although flirting isn’t really the right word, is it? You really do need taking in hand, don’t you?’

For one ghastly moment I thought she was going to spank me, then and there on the beach in front of John and Vince watching from the cliff top, but she merely shook her head and picked up my towel for me. ‘At least have the decency to cover your breasts.’

‘What are you doing down here?’ I asked, wishing I could speak to her without sounding like a sulky little brat.

‘I came down to see you, of course,’ she replied, ‘and uncle Vilmos.’

‘Is Dad with you?’ I asked hopefully. ‘And Summer?’

‘No. He’s taken her to the London Eye. Summer gets on very well with your father, and I think you might make a little more effort to get on with me. We’re a family now, Jemima.’

‘What did you send me here for then?’

‘Because I wanted you to do something productive and sensible in your year off, something that would teach you about life.’

John had wandered off, no doubt embarrassed by our conversation, allowing me to give free rein to my outrage as I replied. ‘Oh, I’m learning about life all right, getting spanked and molested by your pervy old uncle! And the rest.’

‘Oh what nonsense! I’m sure uncle Vilmos treats you very well.’

She knew it was a lie. I could tell from the tone of her voice, and I wasn’t going to let her get away with it.

‘Yeah, right, Danielle. I’ve spoken to Morris, so I know!’

For just a moment she seemed discomfited, then quickly changed the subject. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, but I came down here to see you, and to treat you to lunch, so you can stop behaving like a brat and show a bit of gratitude.’

I responded with a grunt and followed as she turned for the ladder. Whatever reason she had for coming down, I was sure it wasn’t just to treat me to lunch, and I was on my guard as we went inside, even wondering if she was looking for an excuse to spank me. Mr Hegedus was in reception and I was ready to run rather than get done in front of him, or by him in front of her. Nothing happened, and she was actually quite nervous, sticking close to me and going out to her car when I went to shower and change. I was just about to get into my uniform when she knocked on the door. ‘Jemima?’

‘Hang on. I’m just out of the shower.’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake, it’s only me!’

‘Yes, and ... oh never mind.’

I pulled my knickers up, wrapped a towel around myself and opened the door. She was holding a parcel, which she gave to me.

‘This is a present for you. I’m hoping we can be friends, Jemima.’

I couldn’t help but smile, and quickly tore the paper off. It was a dress, bright red and very light, just right for a summer’s day, also very short.

‘Thanks!’

‘Put it on. No, let me do your hair first.’

‘I’m all right.’

‘No, come on. I want to.’

I’ve never been good at going against people when they’re being nice, so I let her, and sat on the bed while she dried my hair and brushed it through. She had her own brush in her handbag, one with a handle, which had my tummy fluttering at the thought of what else it could be used for. But again she behaved perfectly normally, expect for insisting on putting my hair in bunches fixed up with little red plastic flowers.

‘That’s very pretty,’ she said as I went to look in the mirror.

‘I look about twelve!’

‘Nonsense, and don’t be in a hurry to grow up too soon. When you’re my age you’ll wish you did look twelve.’

‘You’re beautiful, actually.’ I couldn’t stop myself blushing as I said it, and I felt as if I was betraying myself for doing so, but she was trying so hard to be nice to me.

‘Put your dress on then.’

I let my towel slip off, no longer worried about being naked in front of her, and slipped the dress on over my head. It was pretty, although a bit embarrassing because it made my nipples look really prominent and it was so short and light that the slightest breeze was going to leave me with my knickers on show. So was bending over too far.

‘It’s lovely, thanks. A bit short maybe.’

‘I wasn’t quite sure about the size, but you’ve got the legs for it. And anyway, you were topless on the beach just now!’

It seemed ungrateful to argue and I kissed her to say thank you, feeling better about our relationship than at any time since she’d shacked up with Dad. I didn’t mind showing off either; there were no guests about, the workmen had been packing things into their van when we’d been in reception, and the staff had seen everything I had to show anyway, several times.

‘Lunch then,’ she said. ‘I’m starving. Let’s eat in the sun gallery.’

‘It smells of paint, and we’re not allowed to put the blinds up.’

She ignored me, chattering blithely about shoes as we made our way down to the main building. It was rather nice in the gallery, especially as the sun had gone in behind the clouds I’d seen earlier; cool and dim after the heat of the beach. I was hungry too, after being sick on Vince’s cock, and it was amusing to have Stefan serve me. We were the only people there, and it was strangely quiet after the usual bustle of a Saturday lunchtime, making me wonder if Morris had a party planned for later. Again I considered whether there might be something going on, something Danielle knew about, but if so it wasn’t happening at that moment and so I was content to eat.

‘Shall we have a bottle of wine?’ she asked. ‘I don’t have to drive.’

‘Are you staying the night then?’

‘I thought I might. Jeremy won’t mind, and then I could take you shopping in Eastbourne this afternoon, if we go by bus.’

‘That would be great! If you’re sure it’s OK?’

‘Of course. A mum ought to spoil her daughter now and then.’

I bit down on my instinctive response, not wanting to start an argument, but those few words had completely destroyed my sunny mood. She carried on as if nothing had happened, ordering a bottle from Stefan before picking up the menu. ‘How about the lobster? Is it fresh?’

‘Mrs Hegedus buys them from a fisherman just up the coast and keeps them in a tank at the back, but it’s terribly expensive.’

‘Oh I think we can cope.’

‘OK then, thanks, Danielle.’

‘Shouldn’t that be “thanks, Mummy”?’

I shook my head. She was looking right at me, and her voice had been kind but firm, growing firmer still as she spoke again. ‘Jemima.’

There was a lump growing in my throat as I struggled to find the right thing to say. She was trying to be nice, and I did want to respond in kind, but that was one thing I could never do. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t!’ I pleaded.

‘I thought we had this out?’ she said, her voice soft again but still with a hard edge.

‘No,’ I retorted, and once again I couldn’t help but sound sulky. ‘Just because you ... you spanked me doesn’t mean I agreed to that.’

‘Jemima, now come on, be sensible. I don’t want to make a fuss over this, and I don’t want to have to spank you again, but I will if it’s necessary.’

‘Necessary! I ... can’t you just leave it?’

‘No, Jemima, and I rather think I do have to, because it’s something you need, quite often, and I’m not talking about the dirty little games you like to play with your sister. I’m talking about discipline, badly needed discipline.’

My voice was rising in outrage as I answered her back, but the blood had come up to my face at the realisation that she knew about Pippa.

‘I do not ... Anyway, you’re one to talk, you were feeling my bum!’

‘You have a very pretty bottom, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be spanked when you’re naughty. Now come on, this is your last warning, either do as you’re told or you’re going to get another trip over my knee!’