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Shawn Ch. 07

Shawn Ch. 07

Babes

The “Sarge” wasn’t really active any more in the service. He did some consulting now and then, and he had a favored group of cronies that he played poker with. All in all, almost a stereotypical, brusque, older military man type.

With a few “quirks,” as Dan had noted.

Things were staying quiet at the Winnebago’s site, for which Anthony was glad. Anna seemed calmer, and with Mama San and Auntie K gone most of the time now with new friends to play MahJong, it was peaceful. Anthony had started fishing at times now. Anna sometimes left with Mama San, sometimes went into town for hours. He suspected that at times she drove to Atlanta and talked to Them. He never asked.

Dan and Roger had brought Sarge with them the next time they were free to visit, and the Sarge seemed taken by Shawn. After she’d had sex with Dan and Roger, the Sarge had played with her, getting her to sit on his lap facing him, roving his hands over her, pinching here and there, stroking. He was quiet, but smiling. Dan frowned.

A few days later Anna entered the Winnebago with Bambi and Bunni in tow, furious. She waved a note at Anthony, demanding to know why he hadn’t been watching and paying more attention? She’d gotten a note from the Sarge, a pleasant note. It was an invitation to his small farm, on the outskirts of Savannah. He had a few horses, a small acreage really, an isolated quaint, lovely old home.

The invitation mentioned his friendship with the local sheriff, and how careful the Sarge would be NOT to mention the little group’s private SM demos.

Anna was fuming.

“Now we have to go!”

“But honey-“

“Don’t you `honey’ me! You should have been watching!” She smacked the table with the note, the envelope flying. She paced, thinking. They couldn’t draw any more attention to themselves. They didn’t dare let the sheriff bring in an investigation. She sighed. They would have to go.

Anna let Mama San punish the twins. She couldn’t afford to let her do anything more to Shawn at this point. So she let Mama San loose on the twins to vent her anger, and Anna told Auntie K to make sure the girl was ready.

Mama San, Auntie K, and Anna drove with Shawn to the Sarge’s house a few days later. When they arrived, he met them himself. Two men were nearby, working on a tractor. The women went inside to a large, cool room, pleasantly decorated. The Sarge was eyeing Shawn.

Sarge was tall and bulky, still wearing a crew cut which showed gleams of sunburned white skin through its graying thatches; he favored wearing short-sleeved t-shirts and his fatigues and boots when he was in what he thought of as his “hunting” mode. Today, he was definitely hunting. He’d had ideas, several of them, and he was excited. He knew something was wrong, something needed to be kept quiet about the black-haired young woman, and he had used that to bring them to his home.

He was, Anna thought, like a great white spider, drawing them into his web. She hated the whole thing. She was the one who should be in charge.

They had a light lunch, but Sarge insisted that Shawn remove her skirt. He had her to stand near him before they ate, and he looked at her, turning her this way and that. Even Mama San was quiet, her black eyes suspicious and sharp.

Sarge was finally satisfied with one of Shawn’s usual outfits, this time the black leather: boots over the knees, very sheer silky thigh hi hose with a darker band that fitted snugly at the tops of the thighs. Collar, pendik escort wrist and ankle cuffs. He nodded. Gold waist chain, he liked that. He insisted that Mama San fit a clit clamp to the end of the chain and hook it to the base of Shawn’s clit, so it tugged and pulled when she straightened up. Nipple nooses, he liked that. He had lots of ideas about those. He flicked one and watched it puff up a little more, and he asked Mama San to tighten the little nooses. She did. He let Shawn keep on the little half-jacket of black leather during lunch.

They ate, the two men who had been working on the tractor entering later and joining them. They goggled at Shawn but said nothing.

When they were done, he led the women and two men outside to a small barn. They entered, and one of the workers brought out a tall horse. The Sarge explained.

“I want her to ride on this horse’s back,” he said. He pointed at Shawn. “I want to see if she gets off.” He was excited, and his voice quivered slightly at the end of the sentence. He looked annoyed at that.

A thin blanket was put on the horse’s back, then Shawn was hoisted up and astride. They took the horse outside to a small corral, one of the men leading it. Shawn clung to the horse’s mane. At one point, Sarge had the man to make the horse break into a trot, and Shawn bounced gently on the horse’s back, but it was not quite the reaction Sarge had hoped for. He stopped them and had them to pull her off.

“You,” he said, pointing at Mama San. “The guys told me you had something you could put on her. You bring it?” She was angry, but looking at Anna, Mama San nodded.

“Here,” said the Sarge. He pulled a small box off a shelf near him. “Put these in her, too.” Mama San snatched the box and stomped off into the house, dragging Shawn with her.

“And make sure you don’t stint on that pussy juice, old woman!” shouted the Sarge. He grinned at Anna. Auntie K had gone into the house, panting and waddling after Mama San.

Inside the two women applied the ginger juice to Shawn’s nipples and clit, dabbed it liberally on the lips. Mama San pinched them with her fingernails, pulling them open. Auntie K held out the box, opened.

“He want these in her?” she asked. Mama San nodded.

Auntie K pulled out a long string of oversized pearls, each one separated by about 2-3 inches of strong slender cord. She shrugged, dumped them into a small bowl of ginger juice, and swished them around absently with a brush while Mama San finished painting the inside of the girl’s pussy with the ginger juice. Shawn pushed against the brush a little.

“Not yet, slut!” snapped Mama San. She pulled up the clit and had Auntie K wrap a thread around the base, tightened the clamp, then released it. She did the same to the nipples. They were a dark red now, swollen and tender.

The two women threaded a chain through the D ring of Shawn’s collar, then pulled the nipples up, snapping a clover clamp to the base of each nipple tightly. Now when she moved on the horse, the clamps would dig into the nipples’ flesh. Mama San nodded, satisfied. That would teach the little slut.

They shoved the pearls inside Shawn’s pussy, ginger juice dripping. Auntie K dabbed at but didn’t remove all of it. Shawn was burning and throbbing. Mama San fitted a thin leather belt around the girl’s waist and jerked it tight, threaded a slender leather thong between her legs, then up between the pussy. The leather divided into two wider şişli escort strips – a labia spreader. Mama San grinned evilly. She pulled the strips tight, getting Auntie K to pull the lips out, then snapped the straps into place on the thin leather waist belt.

“Now pussy open,” said Mama San, and cackled.

They went back outside to the corral. Sarge made Shawn remove her jacket. The two workers helped her onto the horse’s back. This time, with her pussy spread wide and held in place with the labia spreader, she felt the spine of the horse working beneath her. She breathed in sharply. Sarge nodded, his eyes gleaming.

One of the workers led the horse in a trot, then a canter. Back and forth, the length of the corral, Shawn holding onto the mane. Inside her, the pearls jostled against each other, and the ginger juice burned and worked its way into a warmth of lust and sex. Her breasts bounced, pulling at the clamps, which began to hurt, then gave over to a slow warm buzz of tingling and almost mindless sensation. She felt the horse’s spine, working beneath her, and she moved up a little, pressing in.

“Yes,” the Sarge whispered harshly. “Good girl!” he shouted.

They made the horse jog up and down a few times, jouncing Shawn on the horse as she held onto its mane with both hands. She closed her eyes once, thrusting her breasts out which pulled on the nipples painfully, and she came on the horse’s back. The Sarge wasn’t satisfied until he saw her orgasm several times, and then he finally let her off the horse. She was weak-kneed and had to be helped into the house. Sarge had Mama San and Auntie K wipe off the ginger juice, but they kept the clamps on and the pearls in at his request.

“Bet you liked that, didn’t you, chickie?” he said. He had taken her into his study and shut the door, just the two of them. He sat her on the edge of his desk and pushed her back, spreading her legs wide. She was still heaving and panting. He muttered, got up, came to the side of the desk where her head was.

“Give me your wrists.”

She obeyed, and he slipped a chain through the D rings and linked it to one of the desk’s legs. He moved back around and sat down again, holding her legs open with his hands. He bent his head between her legs and took her clit in his teeth, nibbling. Then he bit, tugging with his teeth. He felt her try to close her legs, and he smacked the inside of her thighs with one of his hands. He leaned down and bit her clit again, a little harder this time. She shivered but didn’t close her legs.

“Good. Fast learner,” he muttered against her pussy. He began to lick, his tongue flicking in and out of her, then he bit the labia, pulling them a little with his teeth. He looked up.

“We’re going to keep doing this, girl, until you come in my mouth,” he snapped. He stood up and jerked her legs further apart, tying them to each side of his desk so they were spread almost painfully far apart. He moved to the front of the desk again.

“Now stop moving!” and he leaned over and grabbed a lip in his mouth again, sucking and pulling, nibbling with his teeth. He used his hands to grab under her hips and pull her up towards him, his fingers digging into her bottom, squeezing hard and pulling it apart, then squeezing it together. He flicked his tongue inside her again, slurping, until his tongue found part of the string from the set of pearls. He worked it out, then tugged a pearl out with his teeth, feeling Shawn shudder a kartal escort little.

“Good. You’re gonna come for me, you little whore, and you’re gonna love it,” he warned. He pulled out more pearls, some slowly, some quickly. She came twice, and he was satisfied finally. He twisted her clit with his fingers cruelly, rolling it, tugging.

“Good.” He wiped his mouth and stood up. He looked at her, sprawled on his desk and helpless. He grinned.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled it off and doubled it in a loop. He smacked her pussy with the belt a few times, watching her jump.

“Good,” he said again. He was breathing really hard, and his eyes had a glazed look.

He was still smacking her pussy with the belt when he suddenly stopped, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock. It was huge. He said nothing, just suddenly rammed into her with it. He watched her hands grabbing at the chains near her wrists, scratching, trying to free herself, and he laughed and panted, fucking in and out, hard. He shoved in and lifted her hips with his hands, digging his fingers in harder to her bottom, shoving her hips up to meet his, gouging into her with his cock until he was spent. He stayed in her and hit his intercom.

“Rodriguez, get in here!” he shouted.

He looked down at Shawn, who was panting, but her eyes were half-closed.

“Good,” he said again. “You’re going to be begging me to do this again.” He heard a knock on the door and pulled out of her, zipped his pants, and picked up his belt. He was threading it back through the loops when Rodriguez came in.

“Shut the damn door!” snapped Sarge. Rodriguez hastily closed it. “And lock it!” The lock clicked shut. “Get over here.”

He pointed at Shawn when Rodriguez came over. “Ever see a prettier little slut?” Rodriguez shook his head, not sure what to say. There were red marks across her clit and inner thighs. Sarge clapped him on the back.

“Take her.”

Rodriguez looked at him, puzzled.

“Go on, man. Fuck her. I’m going to go get a shower. Call in Michael. Let him have a look too if he wants. Just don’t untie her yet.” He left the room.

Rodriguez looked at Shawn, but he knew his boss. He picked up the phone and called for Michael, who entered a few moments later. “Oh wow.”

Rodriguez shrugged. He unzipped his pants.

“Are you gonna keep those clamp things on her?” Michael asked.

“The boss said not to untie her.”

“Yeah, but the clamps – don’t they hurt?” They looked at each other.

“Yeah. I see what you mean.”

Sarge had his quirks, after all. They left the clamps on.

Rodriguez was more gentle, sliding into her, feeling her excitement rise, meet his own. Michael was a little more forceful. Sarge returned about the time Michael finished.

Sarge clapped his hands together, rubbing them gleefully. “This is wonderful!” he gloated. “I’ve already told the two old biddies to bring her back in a few days.” He clapped them on their backs, Michael still fumbling with his pants. Sarge leaned forward.

“I guess this can come off now,” he said, knowing full well what would happen. He released the clit clamp, then the nipple clamps, and watched Shawn jerk and arch her back, shuddering. “A little pain slut. Made her orgasm. God I love this!”

The Sarge was grinning. Anna was frowning. Mama San and Auntie K had Shawn in the back of the car.

“So I’ll see you Wednesday night,” said Sarge. He shook Anna’s hand. She narrowed her eyes. “Or, I guess I could always call…”

“Never mind. We’ll be here Wednesday.”

“Good. Good.”

He waved happily at them as they drove off, then turned to the two workers.

“Start setting up a poker game for Wednesday night.”

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